Soon after my
arrival, our lovely friend Tom invited Milly and I to the Faversham hop and
folk music festival. We had no idea what to expect, so hopped a train on Sunday
morning to see what we could see.
Faversham is a tiny
town in Kent and I imagine it would be a very, very sleepy town for 362 days of
the year, but this weekend it was overrun by festivalgoers. Don’t ask me any
questions about the festival, I didn’t learn a thing about it’s history or
purpose. I did learn the following things though;
Hop crowns are the
best crowns.
Cider is better
when consumed by the refillable flagon.
Folk music is fun, but Morris dancers are
bizarre.
We danced. We
drank. We had a merry time. Then we fell asleep on the train home. I’ll call
that a successful day.
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