It’s all going on at the village fête…

Come wind, rain, or heatwave sunshine, the English love a good village festival. A chance to get all the local characters together and have a party. Pimms, tea, hotdogs and cake, a pint of the local brew and a bit of fun and competition. Last weekend was Little Hallingbury’s turn, just up the road from us, so we turned up with the whole family.

Where would we be without tea!

Where would we be without tea!

and cake!!!

and cake!!

and a bbq burger!!!!!!

and a bbq burger!!!

Kids know instinctively how to make the most of these fêtes. Immy has this tactic to a tee: tap Dad for a tenner, then tap Mum for the same, and then try your luck with assembled Aunts and Uncles, and then spend spend spend. I swear she come away in profit…

instant art for 2 quid.

instant art for 2 quid.

Where else can you hold a ferret?

Where else can you hold a ferret?

Suddenly it can get serious. Time and effort has gone into the prep, especially in the competition marquee…

Carefully grown, those potatoes...

Carefully grown, those potatoes…

Fruit perfection is paramount

Fruit perfection is paramount

"How did that one win?!"

“How did that one win?!”

The competition winners will get the cups

To the winners the spoils

Of course at the stalls male sporting prowess needs to shine through. Here’s my brother-in-law, Adam, a good golfer, concentrating very hard on hitting a ball into a bucket. And missing. Spot the smirk on his nephew’s face (left hand side, sunglasses). Plus the unknown bystander (right hand side) who’s finding the uncle/nephew competition quite hilarious!

how can it be this hard?

how can it be this hard?

Given his miserable failure with the small ball, Adam has a go at the throwing shy. Here he is, not waiting for the photographer (me…) to get out of the way before pelting the targets with the beanbag. He missed, again:

Oi! Get out of the way!

That black blog isn’t a flag on the building, it’s a beanbag hurtling its way towards me….

This is Brit society at its best. Characters to the fore, both human and animal.

Dogs abound, of course.

Dogs abound, of course.

Mrs P wins a ferret race...

Mrs P wins a ferret race… and quaffs a Pimm’s

And Miss England puts in an appearance, and promptly get snaffled up by clearly the most pro photographer of the day, who just for 5 minutes has forgotten all about his camera…

the old pro

the old pro

Clearly a great day for all. Well done Little Hallingbury!


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