Despite being the last person at the festival to bed last night, I was still up and about at 7.30am. I spent a little while pootling about, and disappointed those who thought I’d put the kettle on for making coffee. If someone wants coffee in the morning, that’s fine. They can make me some too, whilst I do the washing up. “Daddies Little Angel TM ” made a fine cup of coffee. Or that is, she made me a fine cup. Hers wasn’t so good. The milk had gone squafty overnight, and was actually now lumpy. Once she’d finished honking (and I’d stopped laughing) she got on with breakfast. She makes a good cooked brekkie.
Ably assisted by Batty (who had stepped into the role of catering supremo) we set off to Asda for the ingredients for tea. I was on cookhouse duty, and we’d decided I’d make a mild chicken curry.
And so back to campsite where I was greeted by my niece who was proudly telling the world she’d been peed on by a puppy. It transpired that some of the caravans were leaking pee, but people weren’t quite so proud about that. In the spirit of joining in with the kite festival I tried to fly a dustbin liner as a kite, then fixed more banners. Some had had the poles poke through them overnight.
Bread & cheese for dinner, washed down with a couple of bottles of Oyster Stout. And then I set about preparing the chicken curry for tea, whilst people sat around chatting, playing Blokus and generally relaxing. The news came that I wasn’t to be taking over the running of the Teston Kite Festival. Apparently the torch has been passed to the Kent Kite Fliers. I don’t really know much about the people, but I wish them luck. I didn’t really want the responsibility of running the thing anyway (as I blogged on 15th June).
Something noteworthy happened during the afternoon. It’s traditional at Teston Kite Festival that all of the campers get together for a group photo. It’s a tradition that I found out about third hand, and for all that this was my fourteenth time camping at the place, this was only the second time I was actually invited to be in the photo. We all posed, mucked about, and spent quite a bit of time waiting for the camera to work. I wonder if I’ll ever see the piccie.
We said goodbye to Brian (who had to be back home for work), and scoffed the curry I’d made. I was rather nervous. This weekend we’d shared the cookery. Following excellent spag bol, fahitas, stir fry, and full Englishes I had an awful lot to live up to. But I was pleasantly surprised with what I’d come up with.
‘er indoors TM arrived back from training candles, and we spent a pleasant evening watching all and sundry doing gymnastics. As always with kite festivals, the best time is when the normal people have gone home. But the evening was in many ways quite sad. As a lot of the campers were going home, it was goodbye to a lot of friends I won’t now see again until the Xmas party, if not until next year.
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