For a long time, the second Teston Kite Festival had been looking to be something of a non-event for me. With ‘er indoors TM away for the weekend in Birmingham, and most of the “usual suspects” unable to get time off work, for some time I’d resigned myself to either not going, or turning up in a very small tent and throwing myself on my sister-in-law’s mercy for food. In the end, enough people wangled time off work to make it worth going, and since ‘er indoors TM would have to leave for Brum early on Friday evening, we asked the wardens at Teston if we could be cheeky and set up on Thursday.
They said it would be fine so having loaded the car yesterday, following a dull day at work I drove straight to Teston to set up. Two or three other intrepid souls had already set up their camps for the weekend, and after five minutes, Dan from work arrived. I’d mentioned that I was going camping, and I’d suggested he might like an evening in a field. Once he’d put all the tents up, everyone else arrived. Tea was soon cooked, a beer or two (twelve) drunk and then we had a bottle of port for afters. It was at this point that we realised our gazebo needs proofing. The steady rain on the outside of the gazebo was coming through as a fine rain inside the gazebo. But once you’re onto the second gallon of lager (!) no one really minds.
I was glad to be back at Teston. For all that it’s just a field thirty miles away that I go to for a long weekend twice a year, it feels like home. One of our provisional plans had us setting up camp, and then coming home for work on Friday. As we waved goodbye to Dan (shortly after midnight) I was so pleased I didn’t have to go back home just yet…..
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