West Fest

When I was young, we used to visit my great-uncle, who had a dairy farm. My mum grew up on a dairy farm, and used to tell us tales of scones and clotted cream. So this Saturday past, I took myself off to Weston's annual village fair, West Fest. For a SOLE foodie, it was possibly the ultimate 'mess in my rompers' experience.

There was bread.... REAL bread.... crusty and yeasty and fresh, a far cry from the sweet, white crap I get in PNG. I gorged on olive bread, baguette, cob. It was wonderful!!

Due to the ridiculous OH&S laws in OZ, We're unable to get raw milk cheese. No such ridiculous nanny-law here in the UK, so I stocked up on roquefort, stilton and Jersey blue.

Weston is the home of proper cider.... Somerset cider... apple and pear. Scrumpy, pale or dark.

I may never drink wine again!

And then there are the strawberries.. only just coming into season, in time for the Henley regatta.

I saw a proper May Pole, missed the Morris dancers, sat under an ancient celtic cross eating blackberry icecream, and then met friends for a pint at my new local.

Off to Bath today, to pick up some pressies for the kids, and to 'take the waters'