The cry went out,” It Is Time To Go Forth” and the tribe awoke from their slumber. Preparations were begun for the long journey from the tribe’s home on the great plain of Sywell to the slopes of the far land of the well in the hollow. The tribe assembled at its home range and under the leadership of their convoy master and of the new custodian of their belongings the workers did load the wagons. After much labour and changing of minds the convoy was ready. Sarah the leader gave her permission and the convoy moved off with only a small delay while Ronny went to fetch his tin tent on wheels. Fortunately, during the journey the keepers of the laws of the trail did not appear and did not find the wagon bearing the markings of another owner that was being towed by the newest Dave of the tribe. Are not some people lucky in the choice of name?
On arrival at the meeting place of the well in the hollow we found that we were further down the hollow than usual and must now be getting very close to the well.
After much labour and muttering the tribal tent, complete with many banners, was erected, the luxurious tin tents of Sarah the tribes leader and of Ronny, the carer of monsters (or was that children) were positioned so as to guard the borders of the tribe’s dwelling. The camp was now ready for the removal of visitors coin on the morrow and the call went out for light refreshment!!
Dawn broke (well, about 9am actually) and the sky had opened and there was a great lack of visitors but we now know how they fill the well. After some delay the skies cleared and certain members who had supped of the delights made from the juice of the apple in the far land where the summer sets gathered their wits the tribe set about their task of teaching the art of Toxophilly for the meagre sum of one pound in coin of the realm. After a weary day teaching the unenlightened we repaired to the Great Hall of Refreshment, ok! We went to the beer tent but quickly returned to the campsite.
Sunday dawned and this time the sun shone down on the righteous but we decided to use it as well. This year the female members did not spend, as much time visiting the tent of the Pimms tribe, perhaps this was to do with the supplies that Sarah our leader had prepared. After a further successful day trading, sorry, I mean teaching, we decided it was time to pack up and return to our home range. This year instead of just bunging it in the container, Ian the convoy leader decided to take it to his own dwelling overnight so that many hands would be available the following day. Thus we wend our weary way home to our respective dwellings in the knowledge of a job well done.
David of the clan of Stephen
Acting Collector of the Coin