Only Time Will Tell

Only Time Will Tell was an immersive experience that took a group of guests back to 1920′s Bristol. It was produced for Pan Macmillan to promote a new book.


Below is an account from one of the guests

http://www.bedminsterpeople.co.uk/groups/localevents/Best-Selling-Bedminster/story-11145396-detail/story.html

Starting at Temple Meads station with Reggie the liveried porter to greet us and a whole host of 1920s clad characters to meet us; we were soon caught up in the tale of the novel’s protagonist, Harry Clifton.

Young Harry, a lad from the backstreets of Bedminster, in a mad rush to get to his friend’s birthday party, makes off on his bicycle with the wrong suitcase strapped to the mudguard. The case belongs to a certain Mr Ponsonby-Jones. Ponsonby is frantic to reclaim the case containing his wallet stuffed with white fivers. Reggie the porter gamely sprints after the bicycle using his best porter’s run but returns puffing and despondent moments later.

The bumpy old bus gives chase following Harry to Stillhouse Lane in Bedminster where a bakery maid passes on the information the lad has just been seen on his way to Billington Grange – this looked remarkably like Ashton Court to us when we arrived, but after gin and cucumber sandwiches had been consumed, who were we to argue?

The famous dancer Greta (never heard of her, but boy could she dance) was found cavorting on the lawns much to the delight of a gaggle of local children who crept ever closer to the twirling Greta but soon ran away after several young ladies in sable wraps and cloche hats leapt down from the bus to join in the dance.

Harry had been spotted again, cycling like the clappers, on route to the suspension bridge; the bus creaked away climbing up through Clifton hot on Harry’s tail. After a fruitless search with many photo opportunities for the invited guests on the bus – some of whom who came from as far away as: Mauritius, the Netherlands, Germany and Lancashire, Ponsonby spotted the lad pedalling furiously over the bridge. Off we headed to the Bristol Marriott Royal Hotel where Harry’s bicycle was parked outside while he visited his mother, Maisie, a waitress in the Palm Court restaurant.

Everyone got back off the bus to enjoy coffee and a talk by the author.

It was almost like being in a little mini series on television.
— Audience Member