There can be no doubt that Biggar Little Festival is tiring. I know it is built on the foundations of a huge amount of work by a wide range of individuals, clubs, societies and interest groups. But I mean tiring just to attend.

 For me it started with the reception on Thursday. “Hello”, I said to a rather lost looking young man, “What are you doing here?” He smiled, shook my hand and introduced himself as James MacKenzie. 

 “Mike asked me here to open proceedings.”

 “Oh you’re the Raven guy!” I spluttered. “I’m sorry but….” We laughed, he acknowledged that I’m not his target audience, and the evening went smoothly from then on.  Some of the art on show was splendid and the canapés were very good. The frustration of driving and watching others mellow with the gentle application of a little wine is something one becomes used to. 

Saturday arrived. I’d been asked to represent the festival committee by “popping in” to a couple of things during the day. Felt making and fascinators are not my thing but the workshops were going like fairs when I visited them and it was clear that a few attendees had travelled some distance for the experience. Next it was on to Carol Taylor’s studio in Symington. Talking to an artist and seeing where they work is well worth while and Carol very patiently explained the process of capturing images through a scanning electron micrograph. Not just fun but educational too! 

 The Ball finished off the day with an excess of dressing up, eating, dancing and finding ways to give money for charity. Did I mention that the frustration of driving and watching others mellow with the gentle application of a little wine is something one becomes used to.

 Sunday dawned. Biggar Day Out. God smiled and the weather, unlike last year, was kind to us. By 2 pm the town appeared to be buzzing. The craft & food fair was heaving, Rabbie Burns was all over the High St. Music, entertainment and generally good times were everywhere. Several people told me that the town was buzzing and the shops appeared to do well too. By the time I got home around six I’d had enough. Fortunately my wife had the sense to buy a couple of superb pies at the fair. Sorted! 

On Monday evening the Rotary Club was hugely entertained by the Choir from Poland and Koda, an accordion band made up of very talented local youngsters. This turned in to another late evening during which several young Polish ladies quickly learned that Scottish country dancing can be great fun and awfully tiring. I must say that the frustration of driving and watching others mellow with the gentle application of a little wine is something one becomes used to. 

Tuesday evening, and off to a concert in Biggar Kirk. The Polish Choir started the evening with a magnificent demonstration of what a top notch choir can do. The second half Messiah sing-a-long led by Biggar Singers was also huge fun. Although a tenor, I refused to attempt some seriously high notes from the confines for the audience pews. Halleluiah!

  We were back in the Kirk for a very different event on Wednesday with an evening in the company of Bryan Evans, He’s a Welsh artist working in Glasgow and clearly has developed a real feeling for his abode of choice. He was able to speak with some authority on the difference between a Glasgow stair and Edinburgh one and has also discovered the intimacies of ‘a lumber’. Bryan’s art was very tempting.  The evening was great fun, with very pleasant canapés too. The frustration of driving and watching others mellow with the gentle application of a little wine is something one becomes used to.

 Obtaining tickets for Ian Rankin’s visit on Thursday had almost required camping outside Atkinson-Pryce bookshop over night. Arriving half an hour before opening time on the day appointed for their sale left us 12^th in the queue for very limited tickets. The event itself was very laid back. The man knows how to use language verbally as well as on the page and he charmed his way though an hour or so of chatter to an audience well curled round his pinkie. Undoubtedly their mood was primed by what must be the cheapest booze in town at the Corn Exchange bar. Let me just say that the frustration… No, let’s not go there!

 On Friday I did nothing. I completely failed to make it to the clay modelling, poultry keeping or stone carving workshops. I can’t stand the pace so there was absolutely no chance of me being seen in the nether reaches of the Festival Club late in the evening. More training will be required for next year.

 Saturday evening and the Municipal Hall was packed by what used to be the Arran sweater brigade, now more likely to be wearing waistcoats or Weirdfish gear, to hear Rab Noakes followed by Tam White & the Shoestring Band. Much musical artistry was followed by wild applause. This was undoubtedly an evening that could have gone on a lot longer. The audience was extremely mellow to start with and positively swooning by the end. Words like frustration, driving and alcohol spring to mind!

 I didn’t make it to any of the closing events on the Sunday. I’m told that the final show ‘A Funny Valentine’ at the Corn Exchange was very good.

  So that was my festival. A mix of local, national and international talent all brought to Biggar for us to enjoy. And if what I saw of the townsfolk over the course of the festival is anything to go by, enjoy ourselves we did. Dance, music, fine art, literature all combined with splendid theatre, food and crafts to make Biggar the place to be in the third week of October. If I start a ticket fund now, I might make it to more events next year.