Coordinates: 50°40′41″N 1°12′50″W / 50.678°N 1.214°W / 50.678; -1.214 The Garlic Festival is a fundraising event that is held annually on the Isle of Wight.
The Garlic Festival has been held every year since 1983. From 1985 to 2006, the Newchurch Parish Sports & Community Association organised the annual Garlic Festival, achieving their major fund raising aims. It is now hosted by The Garlic Festival Ltd. It has recently drawn 25,000 visitors a year.
Throughout this time the festival has been organised by a succession of dedicated volunteers. A Sports Pavilion, sports field, dual-use Community Hall, recreation ground and numerous grants to Parish Organisations are testament to their success.
With over 250 stallholders selling such delights as garlic beer, garlic seafood and garlic ice cream as well as a wealth of other locally produced delicacies. The centre of attention is the Garlic Marquee featuring the Isle of Wight's Golden Clove, which is found in abundance, including the popular oak-smoked variety.
Further entertainment includes live music from local bands and displays from mountain bike daredevils. There is also a huge variety of family attractions on offer including arena events and roving acts.
Famous quotes containing the words isle, wight, garlic and/or festival:
“She carries in the dishes,
And lays them in a row.
To an isle in the water
With her would I go.”
—William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)
“Then think I thus: sith such repair,
So long time war of valiant men,
Was all to win a lady fair,
Shall I not learn to suffer then,
And think my life well spent to be,
Serving a worthier wight than she?”
—Henry Howard, Earl Of Surrey (1517?–1547)
“As a rule they will refuse even to sample a foreign dish, they regard such things as garlic and olive oil with disgust, life is unliveable to them unless they have tea and puddings.”
—George Orwell (1903–1950)
“Don’t you know there are 200 temperance women in this county who control 200 votes. Why does a woman work for temperance? Because she’s tired of liftin’ that besotted mate of hers off the floor every Saturday night and puttin’ him on the sofa so he won’t catch cold. Tonight we’re for temperance. Help yourself to them cloves and chew them, chew them hard. We’re goin’ to that festival tonight smelling like a hot mince pie.”
—Laurence Stallings (1894–1968)