Water of life

We start by climbing the Happy Valley hills outside Malvern. It’s hot and sunny, but there’s welcome shade from the trees. We don’t get to the top - but get above the tree line and into wide panoramas.

Coffee and juice at Rebecca’s Range and off to Bransford. Through the Fold organic farm, we find Green & Away in weekend setup mode. Megan shows us around ( the setting is lovely), but doesn’t introduce us to the large circle of people finishing their al fresco breakfast.

It’s quiet at Llanishen. George has taken Martha to a rowing competition. The Bannermans have gone shopping. Richard is wandering around doing various pieces os of prep work. Owen is hung over, but is pacing himself with fizzy water.

The grain tower conversion is just about finished. It looks magnificent - even if Richard has indulged himself in a couple of weird LED lighting gimmicks - one that changes colour by remote control.

The party starts slowly, over many hours. By the house there’s a sound system for phones & later live music. Tony has a guitar amp. Carles brings his bass and a mic stand. Charlie provides a really nice drum kit.

At half seven a fish and chip van begins dispensing ... fish and chips. Also mushy peas and, for the adventurous, curry sauce. To wash it down, Angie and others have prepared a trilogy of cocktails, espresso martini, margarita, mojito.

There are family and friends scattered throughout house and garden. By eleven, the crumbliest have departed. Tony, Carles, and Angus rip through a selection of Tony’s regular selection - Dylan, Arlo Guthrie, Joni Mitchell. Tony & Carles are past masters, and Angus does a great job on the drums.

There’s even some dancing.

Other musicians have a turn, some better than others. Stuart, running high, sings at length, occasionally semi-recognisable lyrics, other times stream of consciousness declamation.

The youth have drum’n’bass on he decking outside the grain tower. The party decamps there in the early hours, and then drifts back to the house. There’s a huge fire in the field, with very few people sitting around it.

The cider, the beer, the wine, the cocktails have done their work. The party has thinned. Conversation has descended into snatches of sentences, bordering on incoherence. Claire beds down in the car. Angus passes out on a sofa. Megan and I wait for the DnB to finish and unroll mats and sleeping bags in one of the new rooms.

15 years since the last gathering of the clans at Llanishen. Lots has changed. Will we have to wait another 15 for the next?