A pleasant one-day show on Sunday only. I counted twenty engines and the weather - which was vertically damp until about 8.30am - was kind to us.
It was fun for us and the village hall caff did a mean bacon roll & a decent cup o' tea and there was a desultory boot sale which had literally packed up and gone by 11.30. But I couldn't figure out for the life of me why we were there, the ONLY attraction in a quite big playing field. The people that came to see us were either seriel visitors or club members and the occasional local for good measure.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it and would certainly go again, but it furrows my brow as to what the Village Hall Committee got out of it.
I took along my Stuart Turner flattie and it ran all day without trouble, attracting a most gratifying amount of attention and generous comment. My attempts to cure it's oiliness have only been partially successful & I must look into that further.
So we retired to a decent pub & had a jolly meal together.
Sunday was much more fun!
Life may begin at 30, but it doesn't get interesting until you're doing 90.