I enjoy art far more than I enjoy festivals. Wait there—I will retrieve my sketchbook and return shortly.

[He declares this with more intensity than is probably necessary, but since she's not going to come down and indulge him, he will go up there and indulge himself! After he turns on his heel and hightails it back to the inn, that is, to indeed - grab his stuff and come trotting back.

It's necessary. He means it— the festival, compared to calligraphy...? Useless to him. He can get free food another time. As he returns, he calls out:]

Direct me to the path to the roof, for I have come to receive my critique.