By Community Correspondent Jack Claydon

Standing on the muddy grass, wrapped up warm in my coat, scarf and gloves on a bitterly cold November evening holding a piping hot cup of coffee, we waited in eager anticipation for the Imber Court Fireworks to begin. However, seven minutes later we were left disappointed and underwhelmed.

The first question I must ask myself is, Where to start? So many things let me down on that fifth of November evening that it is certainly not one I will remember. The disappointment started before we even got through the gates. The ridiculously overpriced tickets were £6 and led me to believe that I was in for a special evening, and as we rounded the corner to get to the main paddock from where we would watch the fireworks, I had no doubt this would be the case. A roaring bonfire glimmered through the branches of the trees and we were all aghast at its size and majesty. Nevertheless, upon entering the paddock, the discontents began in earnest.

As soon as we entered the main viewing area, we realised that the martials had seriously underestimated the numbers expected this evening. We were ushered into the centre of the cluster, where there was barely enough room to stand shoulder to shoulder. Instantly we lost members of our group and were split into smaller teams of two or three in the throng and shambles. The biting cold added to our sour mood and the outrageously priced food dented our spirits further. Moreover, little comfort could be found in the coffee, which justified its surprisingly low price of £1 by tasting utterly vile. It had been poorly filtered, with bits sitting in the bottom of the cup. Then the countdown began for the start of the fireworks.

The dramatic voice over the loudspeakers built up the atmosphere and the adverts promise of “blockbuster music” made me believe the evening would turn out fine after all, how wrong I was...The fireworks were feeble and the music so cheesy and predictable that our mouths were agape for completely the wrong reasons. The finale, which involved a crescendo of music and one or two more fireworks than the other sections was equally displeasuring.

We were left thoroughly disappointed and all we could do was stand there, as the hordes of people left with equally unsatisfactory expressions on their faces. We decided to give it one last chance so we went to check out the little selection of fair rides that they had there. We eventually settled on a “fun” house, although name was so unquestionably wrong. The shocking price of £1.50 validated the poor experience. It was two minutes of misery. The low ceilings and the “obstructive” bags of fluff gave little to be desired. We left the paddock totally depressed and praying that next year we would find a better display to attend.