Dressing up a top-quality magazine

The reappearance of the Sun and blue skies across much of the United Kingdom this week is coinciding nicely with the start of the production process for the winter edition of British Naturism magazine.

 I wouldn’t say it’s more difficult to edit a naturist magazine while wearing four layers of clothing and with the central heating turned up to max, but sunshine certainly puts me in a better mindset to do the job.

 British Naturism is, you’ll not be astonished to learn, the official magazine of British Naturism, the organisation which promotes naturism in the UK and looks after the interests of British naturists.

 I produce four editions per year, usually of between 80 and 90 A4 pages. The magazine is distributed to BN’s members in March, June, September and December as part of their subscription benefits.

 I’ve been sole editor since January 2011, although I worked as part of a jobshare in 2010 and had been involved in editing the travel section for 18 months before that.

 Like a cricket-lover editing The Cricketer or a real ale drinker editing What’s Brewing, it’s one of those jobs that is best done (should that be ‘can only be done’?) by someone with a passionate interest in the subject. As a naturist for most of my adult life, I certainly qualify and I don’t know that I could do the job properly if I wasn’t willing to visit naturist beaches, go to naturist swims and events, go on naturist holidays and be passionate about promoting the benefits of naturism.

 That makes it huge fun and meeting readers at events is an important part of the job; and although putting the magazine together can be tense, time-consuming and frustrating at times, the fact that I am doing something I really enjoy, rather than subbing three-paragraph stories on the business pages of The Trumpington Gazette, makes a huge difference.

 The magazine is made up of four sections - news, features, travel and the clubs pages.

 The clubs pages, the first to be put together, go at the back of the magazine. This is where BN’s 100-plus clubs get the chance to publicise themselves. Some are the traditional sun clubs with their own grounds in the countryside, others hire venues for saunas and swimming nights.

 I rely on club secretaries and press officers for information and I’ve tried to encourage more clubs to send in pictures to brighten up the pages. You may not be surprised that plenty of people are unwilling to be pictured in the mag, for fear of being ‘outed’ as naturists - even though we only distribute to BN members with a very few copies going to media outlets. However, the situation is improving and I hope a look at editions from 2011 compared to, say, 2005, will make that clear.

 Then, it’s the travel section, a crucial part of the magazine. A big percentage of our advertising revenue comes from naturist holiday operators, be they campsites in Cornwall or 2,000-capacity cruise ships.

 Much of the content comes from readers’ accounts of their experiences; recently, we’ve had cruises in the Caribbean; details of a new venue in Greece; holidays in Florida, South Africa, New Zealand. Subject matter such as that certainly helps to relax me if the pressure is on!

 As with all good magazines, the features section is crucial. A couple of BN’s lady members enjoy writing on naturist topics while we recently had a piece on the relationship between naturism and tantra - a field which, like naturism, suffers from the false idea that because some practitioners have no clothes on, sex must be involved.

 We also heavily promote BN’s nationally-organised events - the big summer specials such as Nudefest, the winter weekends in Blackpool and at Alton Towers, the summer beach days, our bi-annual sports events when our petanque players and swimmers are in action - as well as other naturist events such as the clothes-optional days at Abbey House Gardens, the nude night at York Maze and events which BN’s regional organisations stage during the summer.

 We call that section ‘Big Days Out’ and that’s how we promote it - somewhere to come and be nude among fellow naturists while doing something other than just lying on a beach or on the club lawn reading a book.

 At the front of each edition is the news section; this can feature stories from the world of naturism or ‘news’ stories with a naturist slant - perhaps the star actress who reveals her liking for naturism, the latest nude calendar etc.

 All in all, it’s a pretty crowded package and I’m always proud when I see the final version arrive on computer from the typesetter and when the blue envelope carrying my paper copy drops through the front door.

 If I’ve heightened your interest, BN is always keen to welcome new members; as autumn and winter approach, why not try out a naturist swim or sauna near you? Contact details for BN clubs can be found on the website at http://www.british-naturism.org.uk/clubs/. Perhaps we’ll see you on the beach, or out camping or at one of our events, when the sun reappears next spring.

We are Tamworth, from The Lamb

For someone who hates hearing their own voice through a microphone, I’ve done some pretty amazing public speaking feats.

 I’ve been on the readers’ rota at church since I became a Catholic ten years ago; I’ve twice hosted a quiz night in front of 300 naturists (on the second occasion, the microphone didn’t work so I had to run up and down the room, repeating the questions); and now I can add something to that list about which I am just as proud.

 For the past nine months, I’ve been a committee member of the Tamworth FC Supporters Club Heritage Project.

  Begun during the 75th anniversary of the club in 2008 and backed by money from the Heritage Lottery Fund, the project was designed to tell the story of the club, its’ players, managers, officials and most importantly, the fans.

 Volunteers toured Tamworth recording the memories of fans young and old, collecting memorabilia and organising a poll of supporters which resulted in the unveiling of a series of 30 cards recording ‘The Lambs’ Legends’, the club’s all-time greats.

 The scheme ended this week with two spectacular events; first, there was the launch of a free commemorative 60-page full-colour book ‘We are Tamworth, from The Lamb,’ compiled by project leader Dave Clayton and featuring contributions from supporters, club officials and a number of former Tamworth Herald sports reporters (including yours truly).

 The book, of which 4,000 copies have been printed, was enough of an achievement in itself. But the project committee wanted to do something more; to seek out past players, officials, managers and supporters and bring them together again.

 Our initial ideas seemed daunting enough; but after nine months of hard work, countless meetings, phone calls and emails and, yes, a fair amount of teacup-throwing, what we ended up with was beyond our wildest dreams.

 Last Sunday, 300 people - former players, officials and managers, relatives of former players who are no longer with us, as well as modern-day fans - came to the Assembly Rooms in Tamworth for a three-hour festival of football nostalgia.

 We had screens showing rare pictures from the club’s past and television footage of the historic days in 1989 when Tamworth won the FA Vase, beating Sudbury Town in a replay after a 1-1 draw at the old Wembley; we had presentations to the Lambs Legends who were able to attend and we had bucketfuls of memories.

 Originally, I wasn’t due to compere the event, but after the starting line-up was hit by late availability problems, I came off the bench to join former Herald sports editor Rob Tanner at the microphone - and we had an absolute ball.

 We interviewed Jean Tregaskis, who was the Supporters Club secretary back in the 1950s while still in her teens and who could have talked all night about her memories; we met the daughter of the late Percy Vials, No 1 on our Legends list from his days playing for the club in the 1930s; we met Charlie Coggins, John Bayliss, Dave Seedhouse - all names synonymous with the ups and downs of Tamworth through the years.

 And we met the Wembley Eight - the eight members of the FA Vase-winning team who were voted into our Legends line-up and who looked ready to turn the clock back 20 years as they came forward to collect their awards and looked as proud as they had done that spring day in 1989.

 Yet it wasn’t just the formal part of the event that was fun. We deliberately left 45 minutes after opening the doors before we began the show and 30 minutes at half-time for people to share their memories - and to walk through a seething, smiling, mass of people talking football was to feel a real sense of achievement about what we had done.

 The book will be widely available throughout Tamworth and it is hoped to show DVD recordings of the event in the near future - details to follow.

 I wouldn’t have missed it for the world and it’s one of those things I will always say I was proud to be involved in.

100 barrels of fun and laughter

Well, I said it would hurt. 

 When you sit in front of a computer all day, doing nothing more energetic than lifting a cup of coffee every few minutes, there is nothing quite like being surrounded by 100 nine-gallon barrels of beer and knowing that most of them need hoisting three feet into the air.

 This was the scene that faced the dozen or so volunteers setting up the 18th Tamworth CAMRA Beer Festival at about 2pm last Monday afternoon.

 Ale had arrived on time from breweries as far apart as Newcastle and Devon, as Herefordshire and London; now, it needed lifting on to our three-storey stillage as soon as possible so that it could rest under our hi-tech chilling system and be just at the right temperature and in the right condition when we flung open the doors to expectant customers for the first of three days at 11am on Thursday.

 And we were almost there. Two-thirds of the barrels were in their rightful place and we had just wheeled in the mechanical lifter to raise the final 30 on to the third floor, so to speak.

 It was just a matter of pushing a few of the remaining barrels a few inches across the floor to create some extra space to bring in the lifter.

 And so, I steadied myself to shift one barrel no more than six inches; I bent down, grabbed both ends of the barrel, got it roughly three inches off the ground and suddenly felt my back lock up in a manner I haven’t felt since........oh, ever.

 I dropped the barrel, managed to prevent myself from swearing too loudly (there were, after all, ladies present) and stood there frozen.

 I should, of course, say that this was entirely my own fault. I had signed the regulation elf’n’safety documents exempting the venue from any blame, I knew I should have enlisted some help, I knew I was being over-confident.

 And yet, something told me that Martin Warrillow, who had a desk job for 24 years and who has spent the last 18 months sitting on a less-than-comfortable wooden bench in front of the computer in his ‘office’ could lift a nine-gallon beer barrel on his own.

 There’s a word for that.

  I’m glad to say that, thanks to several hot baths and lots of massage, the pain eased off through the week although an offer to sit down all day and run the bottled beer/CAMRA memberships/T-shirt stall proved much more attractive than stretching up and down behind the bar for seven hours a day.

 And the Festival itself was a triumph. We signed up more new members for the Lichfield/Sutton Coldfield/Tamworth/Atherstone branch of CAMRA than we have for many years, the venue was busy during daytime and evening sessions on all three days, the beer was of a standard which lived up to the quality expected by our late, great, festival supremo Chris Fudge and even the real ciders and perries seemed to go down smoothly.

 Our ‘chocolate lady’ Emily Flanagan of Merry Berry Truffles, proved a popular edition to the menu (if you have never tried chilli and orange chocolate, you really should - Emily is becoming a regular at CAMRA beer festivals across the Midlands and always does well) and everyone went away feeling that this year’s festival was as good as any we’ve ever done.

 It’s hard work (even the beer-tasting on Wednesday afternoon, just to make sure everything is in order...) and you always ache at the end of it, some more than others, but it’s a week I wouldn’t miss for the world and if it encourages people to try real ale for the first time, rather than the bland national brews, it must be doing the right thing.

 See you there in September 2012. By which time, I will have taken up weightlifting classes.

Ain't nothing like the real (ale) thing

 This time next week, my thighs will be burning, the backs of my legs will feel as if they’ve been on a rack and my shoulders will feel as if I’ve been in an Olympic weightlifting competition. All this will be the result of what is arguably the most serious physical exercise I take all year.

 At the time, it feels like madness but it’s one of the most enjoyable weeks of my year. It’s the week I spend working at Tamworth Beer Festival (brought to you by the Lichfield, Sutton Coldfield and Tamworth branch of the Campaign for Real Ale).

 It’s the 18th edition of the annual Tamworth Beer Festival this year, starting at the Assembly Rooms at 11am on Thursday and running from 11am-11pm on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. 

 While I was still in what Mrs W insists on calling ‘a proper job’, I was only able to help out on Thursday and Friday, serving behind the bar during the morning and lunchtime sessions before dashing off to work.

 For the last two years, though, I have been available all week and have seen just how much effort it takes to put on a moderately-sized and always successful beer festival. 

 The action will start at 9am on Monday when a team of scaffolders arrives to assemble the wooden structure on which 100 barrels of real ale will rest for the next week. At the same time, brewers from all over the United Kingdom start arriving. It might be one 72-pint barrel in the back of a car, or ten barrels on the back of a lorry. It all gets the same careful treatment, lifted gently on to the scaffolding, or hauled up there by two beefy men (and me), then tapped and left to settle until the Festival opens on Thursday morning. 

 Last year, a dedicated team of volunteers had everything ready by Wednesday lunchtime, giving us time to raise a glass and a nargis kebab in honour of the late, great Chris Fudge, supremo of our beer festival for so many years who was tragically taken from us far too young by a brain tumour in the summer of 2010.

 Last year, we really felt we were doing it for Fudgy. I’m sure the same mindset will spur us on this year.

 There are always last-minute panics, though. It would help if the glasses were delivered a little earlier this year, while the moment when the lorry containing the cooling system almost reversed into the side wall of the Assembly Rooms will stay in my mind for a while.

 Nevertheless, there’s nothing like walking out of the side door of the venue at 10.30 on Thursday morning and seeing a queue of 50 people waiting outside. Invariably, these are the ‘tickers’, familiar faces from beer festivals across the country who will drink their fair share but also pour a decent amount into plastic bottles to be taken away and tested at a later date. I don’t ‘get’ that myself but if it helps promote real ale and our festival, then it’s fine by me.

 Their arrival heralds the start of two days of bending up and down at the bar, reaching into the farthest corner of the highest rack or kneeling down into the lowest corner of the lowest rack to serve a half of Church End's latest off-the-wall creation or something new and unheard-of from Devon, Manchester or Scotland.   

 As a serious supporter of Tamworth FC, one of my favourite times is Saturday lunchtime; thanks to the sainted Dennis Strudwick, who draws up the Conference National fixture list by hand, Tamworth almost invariably have a home game on the afternoon of our festival. This year, that means we’ll be greeting real ale drinkers and supporters of York FC. Given that York are managed by Gary Mills and Darron Gee, who left Tamworth last autumn to move to KitKat Crescent, there should be some lively banter. But it won’t be any more than that - non-league fans and real ale drinkers know how to have a laugh and a drink without going overboard.

  As I said, it’s one of the highlights of my year - even if my thighs won’t thank me for it next week. 

 I hope to see you there at some point over the three days.