Unconsidered Trifles

We went to Narberth on Saturday.  So did a lot of other shoppers. There was the added bonus of a craft fair, too.  The shops were so crowded, Peter waited outside most of them.

Narberth is a jewel of a town,  transformed in the last twenty or so years by little boutique shops, all privately owned.

'The Maltings' an antique emporium, exotic as any souk, is one of my favourite goody-bag places. It is large and rambling, but encloses small shop units, all displaying different things.

My Melyn Tregwynt blankets are from here, one in blue, one in a purple, pink and black pattern. I am looking for a red one next. I have bought cotton, crochet-edged sheets for the bed, and abundant teacloths and tray cloths in fine needlework.

Hats, bags, teasets, Sir Kyffin Williams paintings, furs, easy chairs and a whole kaleidoscope of treasures all await the enthusiatic shopper.

Athough the 'Maltings' was full, I found a  unit with no-one browsing, so I went in. Alas and alack, (I don't mean to sound like Dame Trot from the rhyme), I was immediately followed by a family of four adults.

Comfortably, there was room for two people. I decided on my exit strategy, which involvied a tight right turn and  straight out. I glanced, only glanced, at the handbags and the family followed me, going through the bags with intense interest. There were three other corners in the room, and I'm sure if I had gone to them, they would have followed.

I've seen this phenomenon many times, people developing an interest in what someone else is looking at.

I was in a Carmarthen store one day, reaching for a pot of jam, and a woman put her head under my arm to get something from the shelf.

Saccharine sweetly, I said:  'I'm so sorry. I would have moved if I'd realised.'
'Don't move. I've got it now' she replied quite insouciantly.

If I only hesitate to look at something in a shop window, people gather round and stare at it with interest.
There must be a label for this psychological condition: 'annoying fellow shoppers syndrome', comes to mind.

Enough was more than sufficient. Narberth was too busy for us. We decided to come back mid-week but the question is, what makes this little town so successful?

It helps that it looks like something out of Enid Blyton's Toytown. (Noddy and Big Ears might just go by in their car with the 'parpy' horn.)

There are little tea-rooms,  a surf shop, three art galleries, a newspaper shop, a hairstylist a chemist, a Clock Tower with a shop, a bargain box shop, three shoe shops, three grocers. Magical.

'To think there's this place, in the back of beyond, with all these goodies', one shopper from Cardiff said.
Well, get down here quickly for your Christmas gifts, I say.

The 'Snow Queen' and her carnival will drive by one night in December. Mulled wine and a mince pie, anyone?