I’ve finally make it to the Royal Norfolk Show 😄
Suddenly, the life around me makes a lot more sense.
For one thing, the Norfolk Showground. I’ve been here for a wrestling match and/but I’ve only experienced it at night, as a large tin shed that shelters several thousand fans. It turns out that building is a postage stamp on the manilla envelope-sized show ground, which is designed for the precise purpose of er, showing livestock, agriculture and produce equipment and everything even vaguely tangental. There are acres of the place, and I won’t make it around even a fraction of it in the time I’m here.
We park on the fairway of a local golf course, which may very well make more from 1 week of being a parking lot, than it does as a golf course.
The public is invited for two days, a Wednesday and a Thursday.
But it’s earlier in the week when a lot of the work gets done. The judging, the bidding, the buying. My sheep dealer has been here since Sunday. I can’t find him among the winners, but then, neither is this extraordinary creature.
I pride myself at being good at judging events I have no experience with (e.g. springboard diving at the olympics).
But third place egg has me scratching my head. Seems perfect to me.
First place egg yolk feels a bit more intuitive.
And this multi-award winning bunny speaks for h-self.
The only downside is that I can’t be everywhere at once.
I watched an enormous number of school children file into a field for this.
My party think it sounds cool, but we’re running short on time and the pull of the nearby craft tent is too strong.
That means we miss the sight (though not the sound) of our local record breakers banging away on buckets, colanders and milk bottles, egged on by a surprise appearance by my near neighbour: HRH The Price of Wales.