Not Sure About The Hirst.

The tent had been blown away the night before, so we had to have supper under some arches by the side of the house after a concert in the church.
They were the cloisters, but it was really a smart, country version of the bridges the homeless huddle under. There was delicious food though.
But slowly we lost our body heat. In the end we went to the loos to warm up.
As we loitered as long as we could by the one loo (in the main house) we spotted the two paintings. They were Damian Hirsts. Two of them!
My friend looked rather good in black in front of them, and whilst posing pulled a classic Modern Art face, I just caught it, before a handful of other frozen people came in.
I think we would have all swapped a Hirst for a hot water bottle.