10 August 2009 (Monday) - Reflections on Teston

I had a restless night. Having gone for a wazz at 2am, I came back into the tent to find uproar. Apparently ‘er indoors TM ‘s airbed went flat simultaneously with my departing for a wazz, and I got the blame. Fortunately I could hear Batty’s pump going, so I knocked him up (oo-er!) borrowed the pump, handed it over and went back to kip. But didn’t sleep well. Last night’s port and stilton wasn’t sitting comfortably, and I was up at seven. It was either get up and do something, or lie there with guts ache.


I did the washing up from the previous evening as people got up, we had brekkie, and then we took our campsite down. With all hands to the pumps we were away by 11am. I came home via a farm in Smarden. We’ll be camping there in a few weeks’ time, so it made sense to drop off the tents and other stuff rather than bring it home again.


Sleeping bags away, washing into the washing machine – I was asleep in front of the computer by 2pm. On reflection, I’ve had a brilliant weekend. Bearing in mind the disaster that was last year’s August Teston, and also bearing in mind how wet the last few kite festivals have been, this weekend has been excellent. You can see photos of the weekend here.


Having said that… I mentioned yesterday that the best part of a kite festival is when the normal people have gone home. And on Saturday the children had their bikes stolen. Every time we are at Teston I sit back and watch several herds of “normal people” set up their picnics and games of rounders and football right in the middle of the field because that’s where they always do that every week. And clearly resent the kites being there.


I can’t help but wonder if invading the picnic site twice a year is the best thing to do. Once a year we camp on a friend’s farm. There’s no one there but us. A lot of the kiting people do something similar at a camp site in Sussex – they book a whole area for themselves and so can do their own thing. Joining them is looking more and more attractive.


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