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Oooops – There Goes May

Oh my God I haven’t blogged in nearly a month. That is disgraceful! Rest assured I feel suitably ashamed… And on a completely unrelated note, the RT team are off on hols to Spain soon, so next week’s entry might be affected as well… Normal service will resume shortly, I promise.

Anyway – aside from my poor blogging over the last month, life in Rockpool Trading-land has been pretty swell. The news in brief is as follows…

New lines have been added to the website, the sun has been (mostly) shining (aside from the odd clap of thunder), have attended fairs in Devon & Cornwall and had a lovely time nattering to lovely people, attempted (and failed) to find a dog groomer to sort out our walking bush of a labradoodle, continued the ongoing quest to teach myself to crochet, carried out more research new suppliers who might join our happy RT family, realised mini-RT can now turn the gas hob on, banished mini-RT from the kitchen until he’s 10 and old enough to make Mummy breakfast in bed on her birthday, successfully got tickets for MTV Crashes Plymouth, watched in horror as some Polish lass in the in the Eurovision Song Contest did something unspeakable with a butter urn, got mini-RT his first mini-passport for his upcoming travels, went to the cinema twice in one month and felt momentarily young and extravagant, voted (and then ranted at anyone who would listen about the results), and had a mini-pedicure.

All in all, May has gone off without a hitch.

Finally, had a quick semi-business, semi-pleasure trip to Liskeard last weekend, and Mr RT was highly amused by a sign he saw in the window of the local Boots. Only in Cornwall people, only in Cornwall…

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An Englishman, an Irishman and a Cornishman…

OK, so this week has actually seen quite a momentic (word? Possibly not) change in our rather little but rather marvellous corner of the world. The fair residents of Cornwall (including at least 6 of our lovely suppliers) woke up on 24th April to the news that they have now been granted official minority status, bestowed on it, via several committees and frameworks, by Europe. Hoorah! The Cornish can now officially refer to themselves as Cornish. I’m sure they would have done this without some committee telling them they can, but still, anything which recognises and celebrates Cornwall’s unique position among other UK regions in terms of language, history, culture and character can only be a good thing.

So congratulations Kernow! You truly are unique and minoritnous. (Non-word number 2), and we loves ya for it.

And that’s not all – there’s also exciting news Eastside this month; the South West is now connected to the mainland again! Yep, that’s right, rather unexpectedly, the train line at Dawlish was actually finished ahead of schedule (Rio Olympics committee, take note) so west of Exeter is now not completely inaccessible to everyone without a car and/or private jet. And on a personal note – hoo-bloody-rah! No more replacement coach services, no more standing on the platform at Tiverton waiting to get on a train to take me the last 10 minutes of my 2 hour journey to Taunton and (sadly) no more free drinks vouchers as compensation for the whole ballache.

But seriously, it’s fantastic news for all those local businesses who risked losing oodles of income due to reduced tourist numbers. So well done to Scoop, Muck, Dizzy, Bob, Wendy and whoever else was responsible (that’s one for the parents); perhaps now we need to address the bigger problem of making the South West more accessible and not entirely dependent on one solitary rail line in and out of the region for the future. After all – we’ve got a protected minority down ‘ere now. We’ve gotta look after them.

 

 

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Raisins at 30000 feet

This entry comes with a big BIG dollop of sorryness. I dearly wanted to be vigilant with my blogging when I started Rockhoppers, and I guess getting 5 months in and writing pretty much every week isn’t bad. But unfortunately life went bonkers 2 weeks ago and blogging went to the back of my head, and here’s why…

(NB – for the record, these aren’t excuses, but explanations…Honest…)

Firstly, we took our 1 year old for a long weekend in Scotland. (Random, but true). Recommendation for any other crazy parents contemplating the insane endeavour of taking a wriggling 1 year old on a plane? Raisins. And enough of ’em to sink a battle ship. Our little one was so busy scoffing, he didn’t have time to worry about the fact he was 30000 up in the air in a very confined space. (However, a word of caution; what goes in , must come out…).

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After the heady heights of the spontaneous weekend away, we were then thrown into dealing with said child getting chicken pox. Or some other nasty, blister forming disease – not quite sure what it is, but whatever it turns out to be, it’s looks angry. A tad unfortunate that we unwittingly took the incubating bug up to Edinburgh, not only potentially infecting our hosts but also all the other passengers on the plane; but hey ho – share and share alike I say. (Hope this little indiscretion doesn’t prove to be some pivotal turning point in the Scottish independence question?!).

And now the final explanation; whilst dealing with a pickled littl’un, we’ve been getting all geared up for the beginning of the craft fair season! (Woohoo! Bring it ON!). It’s time to shake out our tablecloths, brush off our shelving units and get on the road to craft fair giddiness. We already have 6 fairs booked in for the next few months, and frankly, we can’t wait. I love our online business, and it genuinely gives me so much pleasure selling Devon & Cornwall’s finest designs to customers all over the planet, but nothing replaces nattering to people about the items in person. So first up with at Diverse Events Easter Show in Saltash, Cornwall on 12th April.

So come along and see us sometime in 2014 – we love seeing you lot.

(PS – We promise we’re pox free).

 

 

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Here comes the sun…doodle doodle…here comes the sun, and I say – it’s alright…

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Need I say more?

I do? Oh, OK then.

This weekend’s brief cemeo appearance from that big ball of burning fire in the sky has left the RT team, like many others I suspect, positievly hungry for summer. As ol’ George Harrison quite rightly croons – Little Darling, it’s been a long, wet, lonely winter… (or something to that effect) – and, Little Darling, it does most certainly feel like years since it’s been here. But here it was this weekend and, like most of the rest of the population lucky enough to see temperatures over 12 degrees – we were packing up the car and heading to the beach before you could say “unseasonably mild”.

And it’s times like this that I realise how incredibly lucky we are to live in such a stunning part of the world. Like other Westcountry kids, I grew up with the luxury of only ever being 15 minutes away from a beach, and some of my strongest memories are from family holidays by the sea – whether it was basking in the sunshine or shivering under a blanket, the beach was a constant fixture in our lives. And on Sunday I got to take my little man for his second trip to the beach, where we enjoyed a glorious walk at Bigbury with the hound, and then a brief sit down on the rocks for him to have his afternoon snack (the little’un, not the pooch). It was a beautifully warm afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, and everyone on the beach was smiling. Memories are, indeed, made of this, and I sincerely hope come rain or shine, growing up by the sea will be something mini-RT comes to treasure as much as I do.

So lets hear it for the summer 2014 – sandcastles, ice creams, surfing, rockpooling (naturally), jam packed coolboxes and sandy sandwiches, much needed windbreaks, paddling, snorkelling, falling asleep with our sunglasses on and washing sand out our hair for days… It’s going to be awesome.

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Rockpool on the road…

Evening Rockhoppers!

Tonight’s blog will be short, sweet, and a little bit all over the place, but hell – lets see if we can pull it together by the end…

So I’ve spent most of the last week back on the craft fair trail for 2014. We maxed out on fairs in the run up to Christmas, and had a splendid time, but now we need to get over the winter blues and get back out there for the spring. I’ve already booked in fairs for April, May and (randomly) November, but our aim is to do at least one per month, across the length and breadth of this fair region of ours. Now – here in lies part of the problem; when you’re new to the scene as we are, booking a craft fair is a bit like walking up to a prospective partner in a bar; they may look good on the outside (snappy dresser, nice hair, not wearing white socks), but delve a little deeper and before you know it, you’re sitting in a freezing church hall next to some ol’ dear who crochets her own toilet paper.

(OK, so my metaphor may be a little muddled, but hopefully you get the gist).

And don’t think it doesn’t happen! Luckily the RT team have so far managed to side step most land mines when it comes to disastrous fairs, but even we experienced one occasion when we travelled over 60 miles only to sit in a venue for 8 hours with just a handful of customers. And this was a fair that, on the outside, seemed like the George Clooney of fairs – nothing to suggest the Baldrick of an event which lurked underneath…

Anyway – punts have been taken, caution has (to some degree) been thrown to the wind, and we’ve booked some more dates and venues in the calendar. Keep an eye on our home page for more details, but needless to say we’re hitting the road big style in 2014. And hey – it’s a numbers game: you kiss enough craft fairs, you’re bound to find your prince… (or something like that).

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Back of the net…

Woo0hoooooo! The accompaniment to writing this week’s blog is the dulcet tones of Drew Savage on Radio Devon – yep, I’m listening to the Argyle commentary on the radio and we’re currently 4-0 up, away to Fleetwood. (Come on you Greens – play offs here we come!! LET’S BE ‘AVING YA!!!!!).

Ah-hem. Apologies for that brief Delia moment. It’s just that Argyle winning by that margin isn’t a common occurrence – one has to celebrate smugly when one can when one follows the Greens.

Anyway – back to the world of Rockpool Trading. It’s been a busy week! (When is it not?!). Following on from welcoming the fabulous Home Threads into the RT fold with their gorgeous range of shoulder bags (made exclusively for us, doncha know), I’m jolly excited about our latest product, due to hit the shelves this week. Hold on to your hats – Rockpool is dipping it’s toe into the vast world of art work! And what better way than by welcoming our newest crafter, Kirsty M from Lanivet in Cornwall, to the gang? This lovely laydee is a very talented soul, not to mention incredibly patient; each of her beautiful paper-cut designs is painstakingly drawn and cut by hand. I’m in constant awe of the talent and commitment of our crafters, and when I see all the hard work that goes into making their products it spurs me on even more to build a business that supports and promotes their wares. It’s a topsy turvy world where some crummy, poorly made products get lots of publicity because they’re sold in large, high street chains, whereas crafters have to jump up and down and wave their arms just to get their beautiful, original and well made products seen. Still – if we can provide another outlet for these talented types, whilst bigging up the fabulous South West at the same time, we’ll have achieved our goal.

And speaking of goals, the final whistle has been blown and that’s 3 points to the Mighty Greens. Altogether now! Westcountry…la-la-la…Westcountry…la-la-la…

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Open for Business… and Gin.

So what’s the expression…? Oh yes –  “if life gives you lemons… make a (Plymouth) G & T”. Or something to that effect…

So after another week of rain, high winds, flooding, more rain, power failures and general, all round weather grimness, the Westcountry is fighting back with the hashtag #OpenforBusiness. (Check out the wise words of Cornwall’s adopted son, Rick Stein, on the subject here) . The message is ringing out across Twitter, You Tube, Facebook and even sneaking its way into Prime Minister’s Questions – it’ll take a bit more than some heavy rain to make us shut up shop! Devon & Cornwall has some of the best attractions in the country, so this week on Twitter we’re sending out some of our favourite recommendations for things to keep the noisy sprogs entertained over Half Term – come Hell or (lets face it, it’s possible) high water. Check it out if you are, like us, a Twitter nut.

And speaking of all things Twitter…

I’m keeping it short and sweet this week, but thought I’d finish with a photo I took of a mass produced top in a large, high street department store (who shall remain nameless). Are they being ironic, I wondered…? Answers on a tweet…

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Message from the Westcountry to the Mainland…

Can you read me…Over…?

Message reads:

FOR GOODNESS SAKE INVEST IN OUR INFRASTRUCTURE (stop) – IT’S AWFULLY QUIET DOWN HERE (stop).

On this cold, rainy miserable evening, this rather chilly Plymothian is sat listening to the Proclaimers and drinking a glass of wine, wondering if I could indeed walk 500 miles (and then 500 more) to reach the heady heights of “up north” (aka Bristol and beyond…).

You would have had to have lived in a cave with earmuffs on this last week to not know what I’m talking about – the devastating storms that have hit the UK have been all over the media, particularly the pictures of the beautiful coastal train line running through Dawlish, or at least where the beautiful train line used to be – half of it is now hanging precariously a few feet above the water. Whilst it’s a blessing that no one (as far as I know) has been seriously injured (or worse) by the damage, the focus has now shifted and the devastating effect the complete lack of transport infrastructure into the Westcountry is going to have on local businesses is becoming apparent. Plymouth and Cornwall have, quite literally, been cut off from the rest of the UK in terms of rail links, which leaves us 2 options: road (the lack of a motorway west of Exeter leaves us at the mercy of the rather optimistically named “Devon Expressway”) and air (which has been significantly affected by the closure of Plymouth airport – now we rely on the reduced service at Newquay, or, the extremely expensive flights from Exeter – and in any event, that’s now only any good if you have a car…).

And devastating really isn’t too strong a word – tourism really is the life blood of the Westcountry. The head bod at the Plymouth Chamber of Commerce has estimated a loss of over £500 million to the South West’s economy as a result of the newly amphibious train line. Which begs the question: why has no one ever considered the implications of this before, or if they have, why weren’t they taken seriously? As anyone who has tried to catch a train heading for Penzance on the Friday before a Bank Holiday weekend and ended up sitting in the loo in order to get a seat can attest – they come in their tens of thousands to the region. Business, pleasure, relaxation, stimulation, culture, kicking back or zoning out – they come and they spend. I shudder to think what will happen if the train line is not up and running by the Easter weekend.

And getting out of Devon & Cornwall is proving almost as difficult. I was due to attend a meeting in Reading in March, and it has now become apparent that my best option is to drive from Plymouth to Newquay, fly from Newquay to Gatwick and get the train from Gatwick to Reading. (Quite literally, Trains, Planes and Automobiles).

So – to sum up. I dare say that one of the reasons so many of us love the South West is it’s remoteness, it’s quiet, laid back pace of life. But whilst we may occasionally tut at the tourists when we can’t get a seat in our Local on a Saturday night, we need them like a cream tea needs jam, like a pasty needs a pint and 2 indigestion tablets. Lets hope the Grockles don’t stay away too long – we miss them when they’re gone.

 

 

 

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A local birthday for a local boy

Evening Rockhoppers. Once again I’m writing from the region formerly known as the Westcountry, when a more accurate description would be the reservoir that now joins The English and Bristol Channels. Seriously – it’s been raining for EVER. Enough is enough – I’m so over winter; bring on the spring.

Anyway – after my last ultra negative post about Poundstretcher, I’ve used up my monthly quota of winge, so I thought I’d try to give this week’s blog a bit more of a positive slant. The reason I didn’t post last week was down to the week-long celebration we ended up having for mini-RT’s 1st birthday. A fabulous time was had by all, although M-RT will not remember a thing about it; nevertheless, we were keen to use any excuse to beat the post-Christmas blues and celebrate surviving a year as parents. (After all, it’s all about US). And it got me thinking – aren’t birthdays are a wonderful thing for the local economy?! Whether it’s going down your local for a few sneaky shandies (perhaps not appropriate at sprog’s age…), or taking yourself out for a slap up dinner, the number of local businesses we supported whilst celebrating the one-ness of M-RT was amazing!

In brief: the day before his birthday we paid a visit to The National Marine Aquarium in Plymouth (where the little-un’ showed his appreciation for the sharks in the only way he knew how – by applauding them…), and lunch at Monty’s on the Barbican the following day (I’ve not yet found a better fishfinger sandwich). On top of that, we held his 1st birthday party at Plymouth Argyle FC at the weekend, mainly because the clan are big fans, but also partly because it’s a venue local to us. To top it all off, and because I drew the line at making cakes to feed 60 odd guests (including sprogs), we ordered super scrummy cakes from Sage cafe, just down the road from us, and ordered soft play stuff from The Play Association in Plymouth. So that’s 5 local businesses we have supported by celebrating our little clapping, singing, crawling, winging, gurgling, screaming, oblivious bundle of joy. Maybe celebrating his birthday wasn’t all about us after all.

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Pound Stretcher Strop

Greetings Rockhoppers. I’m going to keep it short and sweet tonight, as I’m just a little bit narked, and as it’s apparently “Blue Monday” I don’t want to feed into the collective grump any more than I have to. So here goes…

Just when you thought the high street couldn’t get any more bleak, you find that something rather dubiously called a “Pound Stretcher” is going to open in a massive retail unit just down the road from you. (In this case, the Friary Retail Park in Plymouth). This has irked me for several reasons, which I will try to summarise as follows…

Firstly, whilst I accept these places have to exist (otherwise where would we get our £1 bottles of Herbal Essences with the old branding from?), the place for these units is surely somewhere discrete and out of sight, perhaps sandwiched between a Bon Marche and a pop-up calendar shop. The place is not on a highly visible retail park, with neighbours such as Dunelm, Smyths, Hoobbycraft and Pets at Home. (OK, so hardly Westfield, but surely, Plymouth City Council, we can do better than this?!).

Secondly, the sheer size of it. It’s going to be HUGE. I like my pound shops small and harmless, not the size of a small hanger, with rows upon rows of discounted nonsense. Seriously. There’s only so many £1 items anyone needs…

Thirdly, and probably predictably, I’m not a big fan of mass produced, cheap… stuff. It’s pretty much the polar opposite of everything we believe in at Rockpool; but that’s OK, it doesn’t mean we can’t co-exist. But I do object to it being in such a large unit in such a prominent location in the South West’s largest city, mainly because… and here’s my fourth and final gripe…

The message it sends. It says, in gigantic cheap, yellow letters… this country’s had some pretty rubbish financial times recently, things are hard for a lot of people and you can’t afford anything a). nice, b). not made of plastic and c). costing much more than a £1. That’s not to say that millions of people (many of whom live in the Westcountry) haven’t had an incredibly hard few years, but that’s not the whole picture! For goodness sake, give us some confidence, give us some hope, give us… oh I don’t know, something that doesn’t just hammer home the point: “Times are tough – so stretch that pound for all it’s worth”.

Plymouth deserves better Plymouth City Council. And I think anything, literally, ANYTHING would have been better than this. Times may be hard, but as important as it is to be frugal and live within our means, it is also important to not lose sight of the big picture: things will change, things will get better, and when it does, we’ll be wishing we picked up the phone to Mamas and Papas…