Hinton Village fête

A horrible and wet day - up early to motorbike up to Dads to Dad's to work again, only to be made redundant a few hours later and have to trek back in the weather. Not too happy and cold, I settled down into the sofa and watched the Tour de France wind its way though the sunny scenery only a few 100 miles south of us. Oh, jet stream, what a douche you are.

However, the afternoon was better - went over to Kate's house for a catch up and cup of tea, before being picked up by Tom's mum and taken to the Hinton Village feté. Hinton Charterhouse is a great wee village a few miles from Bath, with an infamous (within my friends at least) fête that runs every year. They normally have a huge hog roast, but this year only had a BBQ - inside a tent, with people crammed inside with drips from the roof catching the back of their raincoats.

We'd each bought a bottle of wine, and by the time Duncan's dad started up on the drums we were well in the mood to dance. The night ended in many people trying the cinnamon challenge; it didn't go too well.