I snapped this horse in the park this afternoon. A little bit surprised as few horses pass this way these days. It certainly drew a crowd as the kids forgot the skatepark and surrounded the poor creature. As this is somewhat unusual to see here I suspect the horse, or should I say pony, belongs to a gypsy caravan.
Occasionally an old fashioned round shaped Gypsy caravan passes through, often for a wedding somewhere nearby, and on two occasions I have noticed this parked in the town centre. Here is one example. Possibly the owner thought fit to take the beast to the park to feed on the long grass. All those kids around it but it appeared not to notice as its head rarely left the grass. Possibly it was hungry, possibly it was just being a horse.
Nothing else happened that I noticed so this is the exciting news of the moment. Of course when I looked back the beast had gone. Typical.
Zonk City today. Up early and soon back in bed. Being unfit and old is no fun. Later this week, once I am over my running around, I will restart again the exercise programme that failed after a few days last time. Maybe.....
Anyway I heard a clip-clop outside the window today, and you don't get too many of those around here, and discovered a Gypsy Caravan being pulled by a tough wee pony. Most unusual this, although the area has always had many Gypsies (or 'Travellers') as they are called these days. Twp camps lie a mile or so outside the town. However this beaut was not the common means of travel.
The reason became clear much later when I dragged my emaciated body out into the sunshine. There is a Catholic Church round the corner and most Gypsies here tend to be Irish Catholic. They have some sort of confirmation ceremony for the girls where they dress up as brides. This caravan was obviously used to make a day for the young lass posing on the drivers seat in the photo. It was not easy to get a better shot of the caravan with the kids milling around and the sun directly behind (Hot sun even today!) so I have made the best of it I could. I could not decide if the pony was bored or happy with his lot. There again he looks well fed and the adults were copying him by heading to the pub, all in their Sunday best as was the pony.
I dragged myself home and eat a substantial dinner, one suitable for those who have no taste, no finesse, no energy and canny be bothered. Tomorrow the Essex Record Office to look for I know not what. Can I not just stay in bed? This volunteering bit is worse than work!
The UK budget occurred yesterday, I missed it. Usually I sit through most of the hour or two while the man responsible for the British economy mumbles on, sipping whisky and water and supported occasionally by gruff cries of "hear hear," from his side of the House. This year I just couldn't be bothered. Whatever they say it is clear you will suffer. This year it appear Gorgeous George has made a complete hash of things, lowering taxes for the rich and raising taxes for pensioners, good vote catching stuff Georgie! When asked if he would benefit from lowering the top tax rate he claimed he did not earn enough! Just his MPs salary. Hmmm I believe him, but he is lying in his teeth! (Sue me George!)
This morning I jumped on the bike to avoid his smarmy lies on the radio and made my way, slowly, to Felsted station. Actually this has been a private house for many years but the 6 miles and 12 chains distance was more than I have managed this year! That's 12 miles and 24 chains plus a bit more today. I'm getting so fit I may soon be almost human. (A chain is 66 feet by the way. Railways, estate agents and others still require to use this measurement today. 10 chains make a furlong (used in horse racing) and 8 furlongs make a mile, but you knew this.) I almost went a bit further however the bridge at Felsted has been removed and this means a roundabout meander to continue. Behind the old station house lies a Gypsy camp and I wandered into this by mistake. The dogs were quickly awake at a strangers approach, one keen to eat my leg was a bother, and a chap standing by a huge bonfire, there is always a bonfire in such paces, pointed out the way to go. As I made my way back, once again assaulted by the dogs, I was impressed by the amount of broken glass lying around. One or two skips overflowed into the road, but the glimpses inside the caravans, mobile and static, through open doors showed a high standard from the women of the house. No surprise there. I would have continued on but at the beginning of the trail lay another pack of dogs so I decided to return home. Just as well as I was knackered by this time. Two slices of brown bread and cheese is not sufficient sustenance!
It impressed me that the dogs I encountered were all small 'yaps.' No big dogs to be seen. Very good watchdogs, loud and aggressive, but the bites considered less dangerous and newsworthy than the bite from an Alsatian or Doberman.the fact is such dogs are much more likely to bite, just ask any postman! Appearances deceive and these folks are no fools. It is about ten years since I was last there, and the camp appeared very much tidier the last time, maybe it's just me? Some folks complain about gypsies, the mess they leave when they camp unwanted, and I have endured that outside my door before now, the criminal element, and the all round trouble they cause. Much of this is true of course, and gypsies, or 'travellers' as the media has decided we must call them now, do not do themselves any favours all too often. On the other hand I have seen similar conditions in this town, from the noble locals, and big cities have areas so 'deprived' no traveller would dare park a caravan there overnight. There was a report that some in that camp were Christians and did a lot of good in the area, and a radio programme recently revealed a christian group composed of gypsies, and proud of it too, running an proper evangelical group on the outskirts of Edinburgh.
I wonder if it is within us all to make barriers between us? What comes first, crime or rejection, being different or being bad? The chap who gave me directions was friendly enough, although all the other eyes contained suspicion and glares. Mind you I find that walking the streets everywhere I go, maybe it's just me.....
Anyway, do you like my style? geddit? Style, see....oh forget it.
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