Three quid buys you very little these days. Nearly a pint of beer (so long as you’re north of Watford), almost a magazine, a bus ride to not quite where you want to go.
Or a few hours at Dismaland. Apocalypse by the Sea.
Walking down the prom to the old Lido at Weston-Super-Mare, I was asked by a lady sitting on a bench “Have you come to see Banksy? Welcome to Weston, have a lovely time.”
So I did.
Chuckling as I manoeuvred the zig-zag queueing system, which I’m convinced is actually an installation, I prepared myself for the onslaught of mild abuse which was promised to come my way.
Dismaland keeps it’s promise. In buckets and spadefuls.
Humour as black as sin, brilliant animations and music on the outdoor screen, powerful images and 3D work in the exhibition, a great dodgem installation by Banksy, anarchy around every corner.
And we all got to join in with a piece of artwork depicting a woman being eaten by seagulls. Serves her right for using a shopping trolley.
It’s England, so it rained.
That’s why we had a beautiful rainbow on the way back up the M5.