Clubs and swords

I vacillated the day away as to whether I finally attend a local photography group meeting which on digital paper is held on the second Tuesday of every month. I have been meaning to visit the club for a number of years now, but have always found excuses not to go.
So this evening I wrapped up against the damp cold and made my way to the venue.
I arrived quite early to find the building occupied not by a gallery of old white men fragranced with Ilford HYPAM and nicotine, but by a group of several septuagenarian types swinging wooden Longswords at each other.
Waiting to see or smell a hint of club photographer, I whiled away the time watching the aged warriors hack with precision at the air between them. After a while with no evidence of a photo club meeting or a gladiatorial yet non life threatening injury I skulked off to the warmth of home.