Clog-dancing? It’s utterly shattering

MANY years ago, I was invited by friends to visit a folk music club in Colchester. I have to say I didn’t know what to expect. My experience of folk music was limited to an old Peter, Paul and Mary LP — Puff The Magic dragon and all that. When we walked in, I was taken aback by several men with eccentric Catweazle-style beards. Many of the women had hippie type clothes and everyone was really friendly. There was plenty of beer and cider and everyone sat at tables. The musicians were good and, as well as cupping an ear in their hand, they sang in that curious ‘through the nose’ manner that is always evident in sea shanties. The audience were very animated and enthusiastically joined in with the singing. This caused one or two glasses to get knocked off tables. These accidents were all cleared up by the management and no harm was done. The highlight of the evening was clog dancing. I had never seen this before and I’m sure Puff would have been as taken aback as I was. Men and women were stomping around, whooping and shouting, in wooden clogs, on a sheet of hardboard. It was all very rowdy and, inevitably, a few more beer glasses bit the dust. It turned out to be a good evening, but I had to laugh when the club manager spoke to the audience at the end. He said: ‘I hope you have all enjoyed the entertainment.’ Completely deadpan, he added: ‘If there are any glasses left, can you please bring them to the bar before you leave.’

Don Townshend, Chelmsford, Essex.