The John Griff Column: Hiding in plain sight, watching the wanderers...

Last weekend gave me a front row seat for one of my favourite pastimes. I’ve done it for years, watching people going about their business in the same way that a bird watcher or wildlife photographer might plan, wait and observe their targets, remaining unseen themselves. Last weekend I did so and in plain sight. It yielded some memorable, pleasurable moments.

For a number of years, I have had the opportunity to manage and deliver the public announcements at the Crick Boat Show. Now into its second quarter-century, the show sits alongside the Crick Marina just off Junction 18 of the M1 and adjacent to the Daventry International Rail Freight Terminal. Each year, thousands of people throng the show’s corridors, marquees and displays, taking in everything connected to visiting or living on the inland waterways. Once the backbone of Britain’s transport industry, the business of the network now provides work and wealth in the recreational and tourist industries, making the show’s location a touch ironic when you consider this county’s developing reputation for logistics and the show sitting adjacent to DIRFT. Some visitors will have left the show with new toys for their existing boats – others may have made the lifestyle decision to get on the water themselves – quite literally taking the plunge either to buy a boat for weekends and holidays away, or maybe even to live life off-grid on the water. Hundreds of already waterborne visitors arrived at the show from all over the country, some taking days to make the journey, stay the weekend (or longer) and then slowly motor away again back to their home moorings or their next destination – and all at a leisurely pace under what has been a very welcome few days of sunshine and summery heat.

This is what generated the opportunities for me to do indulge in some people watching. Sitting in my glass sided commentary box (or studio), I could carry out my duties whilst also watching as cars queued to park, disgorged their human (and canine) cargoes and then parked in one of the adjoining fields. Crick delivers a wonderfully relaxed show with a pace that mirrors life on the water - visitors meander slowly around the various displays and outlets, taking everything in. Bizarrely, the pace of the show stepped up when the live music began in the afternoon and early evenings as a variety of tribute acts served musical tastes from two-tone, reggae, and folk to new wave and glam rock over the Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. All this gave me the chance to witness many of the people I had earlier seen window shopping or considering those bigger purchases and who then began to let down their hair a little, fuelled by one of the dozens of real ales, ciders and gins available from the opposite end of the same enormous marquee, large enough to swallow up a football pitch.

We all tend to dress in uniform, be it corporate, formal or informal. As mostly pack animals we tend to mirror each other and our surroundings. Unless I’m working in a focal, presenting role, I prefer to blend in, so walking around in a T-shirt and shorts made me invisible – making the job easier to do. Anonymity suits me fine and has allowed me to watch good friends of all ages obviously meeting up after last year’s event. I witnessed families interacting within themselves and one or two content creators creating material which, in truth seemed more about them than the show. There were also a few individuals who almost defined description. I watched as a gentleman clearly in his late middle age paused outside my box, wearing a smiley bucket hat, lurid coloured shirt, rolled up shorts and flip flops. Puffing thoughtfully on a vape he seemed lost in thought for a full ten minutes and I wondered if his vape was exerting its own ‘special’ influence. The general atmosphere was very embracing, friendly and exuded bonhomie – something of a contrast to the Chelsea Flower Show which Lois and I went to on Wednesday afternoon and which seemed dominated by money and position. £31 for two very small flutes of sparkling wine didn’t make it taste any better – the service at the Crick Real Ale Festival was way more friendly too. Things like that matter and are their own advertisement for the future.  

Over a beautiful weekend I was struck by the positive atmosphere created by a shared experience at the show site, in the marina and in the adjacent campsite. It reinforced in me what I have always believed – that people are at their best when they approach their existence with an open-minded positive, inclusive attitude. I was observing social politics with a low case ‘p’ - more of it please!