Towersey Bound

A good few times - been to Towersey Village Folk Festival.
Remember the first time. Left at midnight with my friend Alex, tents, bags, a spare wheel, oh, and a Model B grille shell I had to deliver, tied all over the Trifid. Crystal clear night. Arrived at err-o' clock in the early morning, found Kate's tent and giggle pitched it beside. Eventually. After waking everyone.

Met various bits of Them Harvey Boys there too.

And over the years? Met friends, mud, wind, rain, burning sun, cracking thunderstorms, more sun. Many acts various, from all around the world. Danced my little toes off.

Even played there - ticked the box for everything. Village hall, dance tent, concert tent, arena stage, late night party tent. Ran around like headless chickens all weekend and still found the time to take over the sessions in the beer tent.

Happy times.

Ad hoc attendance, but Kate took the kids when she could. After she'd finished all her treatment, we went together a couple of years ago. My ears blocked the day before we left - deaf as a post. Skipped out to some very quiet drag racing for a day whilst we were there. Not a thing. Played a session with a Tex Mex gaggle -still wonder how it was...

Skylark is outside. Going again - party of seven joining the Hoxne crowd. All packed high. Tents, cooker, food. Tables, chairs, bicycles. Clothes for warm, wet, and cold. Cameras, batteries, torches. Hats, blankets, towels.

Bound to have forgotten something...