Big fish, small town

Spent Halloween in Cardigan with Gwyn and Erin, at the River's Edge which was given over to Folk, Fire and Ale. Delightfully chilled and friendly, with zombies and ghouls mixing shoulder to shoulder with ordinary folk in their scruffs, all ages and social classes. The headliner was James Yorkston, a moderately legendary Scottish folk singer from a small town in Fife, with a good voice, excellent guitar work and a nice line in patter that meanders in and out of his songs. Think Martin Carthy and Nick Drake on a night out with Ivor Cutler.

Sitting next to Gwyn on the bench (second along) is Charlie, blipped by Ceridwen last year. He latched on to me as Yorkston's set ended, and we ended up talking for well over an hour (he was on red wine, bought me a ginger beer - driving). He has a fascinating history - painter, poet, lifeboat coxswain, among other occupations, although now his health is poor which he finds frustrating. His background is English/Scottish and aristocratic, but somehow he fetched up in Cardigan years ago and loves it. Everyone there seemed to know him. He's a talker, but also a listener. Good company, if you have an hour to spare.