Monday 6 September 2010

Partying in rural Dorset

Last weekend we packed a party frock and penguin suit in the back of the car and braved the Friday afternoon exodus from London, heading south in dense traffic ...




past this collection of funny rocks ...




(This photo illustrates, incidentally, how shooting through the car window in grindingly slow traffic can actually give you the same experience you’d have had by driving to the site, paying a fee and trudging around, dodging sheepshit. 
I recommend the former method for visiting Stonehenge).

Our destination, on this last weekend of fine weather for the year?
The rolling hills of Dorset ...



(the view from our friends' farm house)


This is the old Kingdom of Wessex, home of Saxon kings from 519 to 1066, and later Thomas Hardy country.




First a pit-stop in Shaftesbury ...





... for cream-tea at the uber-trendy Grosvenor Hotel
(what would King Alfred have made of this?)



Then on to find the tiny village of Semley where we would overnight in a room above the pub, the Benett Arms ...



Across the green, the village church ...





a couple of quaintly English cottages ...




and a handy signpost …




And you thought the English could spell! Are you ‘avin’ a larf wif me?...




Care of a friendly local taxi driver with a rolling Dorset burr, we headed to our friends’ farm where eighty people were gathering from near and far for a 21st birthday celebration.

White tents and lanterns ...



 in the magical setting of a lake at sunset ...





A crazy funfair ride ...


... and the party's on!



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