Saturday was spent at the Rochester Sweep’s Festival, an annual three-day drink-and-burgers-and-morris-a-thon held in Rochester High Street. The old forms of entertainment die hard, as we can see here:
It’s good to see youngsters getting involved in the ancient English traditions.
It wasn’t so good that I ended up with a fat lip however, as I attempted to vault drunk over a (wet from rain and slippery, in my defence) gate, landed face-first on the tarmac and proceeded to bleed over much of Strood Town Centre. Oh well, live and learn.