Despite going to bed at 2am last night, I was up and having a shave at 7am. I wasn’t feeling too well this morning – not the beer, but something I’d eaten judging by the rumblings. I shall blame the variety of cheeses. Brekky (as always) went down well; I was in charge of cutting the mushrooms, and we had an intellectual conversation about the relative pugnatorial skills of pilgrims and monks.
Once washed up our presence was required down the field for a photograph taken by the local paper’s photographer, and then back to camp where we played Blokus for most of the day. Ideally we’d have got more kiting done, as this was a kite festival. But, much as I love
And then we started to take down the banners, and pack away the chairs, and generally slowly put away everything we wouldn’t need again. Everyone else was packing away anyway, and it makes for a quicker getaway in the morning. And it gave us something to do whilst dinner was cooked. A good bit of diner – I do like fajitas.
We then drove off to fetch ‘er indoors TM, and on arrival back at camp as she made her way back to the tents I locked up and used the local facilities. And when I came out there was a commotion at the gate I’d just locked. Loads of cars and people swarming around with torches. All shaking the gate. I marched up and asked loudly if I could help them, only to be told that was what they usually asked. It was the police, Loads of them. When they saw I had a key to the gate they accepted my bona-fide, and they told me that they were looking for a car in the car park that shouldn’t be there. I told them that to the best of my knowledge the only cars on site were those who were with the kite festival. They took my word without checking the car park, and then they all promptly shoved off to wherever it is that police go. I can’t help but wonder what that was all about.