Sunday Fun

Woke up to a croaky voice, which I put down to talking over the noisy disco. Leisurely breakfast followed by a spot of desk time finishing off my blog from Thursday’s press day.

Another trip out in Marcel’s marvellous tractor, this time to investigate his brother’s air strip* for a possible fly-in BBQ this summer. *462 metres, perfect for the Turbs.

A pit stop at the pub for a swift half and then onto the next village for a BBQ with new friends. Note: it’s an unwritten rule that vintage tractors and steam engines can’t pass a pub without stopping!

By the time we arrived at the BBQ my voice had taken on a husky croak with the odd squeak. So it was rather challenging conversing with my new dozen or so friends each of whom was so polite and lovely about it. I had the most success with non-verbal communication with a friendly girl called Molly - she had four legs and a waggy tail!

In typically eccentric English style the gathering featured an assortment of hats and faces, knees and shoulders pink from the sun. While the venison and aitch of beef cooked on the barbecue we took a tour of the Victorian cottage garden allotment.

The asparagus from the garden was simply delicious, which I appreciated after drinking hot water and lemon rather than the several glasses of bubbles everyone else enjoyed. By early evening an increasingly sore throat and almost no voice put my homing beacon on and I reluctantly took a 2.5 hour journey back to Kent.

I’m off to bed smiling after a weekend with so many lovely friends old and new and hope it’s not too long before we meet again.