Will’s World: Footloose and daughter-free at the Winter Fair
© Lee Boswell Photography To misquote the English playwright William Congreve, hell hath no fury like our numerous daughters when they’re forced to go to school instead of the Royal Welsh Winter Fair.
And so it was – with all the limited sympathy of exhausted parents who have to put up with emotional preteen and teen behaviour on a daily basis – that the present Mrs Evans and I cheerily said goodbye to our delightful offspring and sped out of the farmyard for a rare drama-free day away from home by ourselves, joyfully high-fiving and flicking the Vs behind us as we went.
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If you’ve ever been to the Winter Fair in Llanelwedd, you’ll know that it’s officially the coldest place on planet Earth.
We had dressed appropriately with about 27 layers between us, but it wasn’t enough and I spent the day freezing.
Regular cups of mulled wine were the only thing between me and going out the way of Scott of the Antarctic.
I think I even saw a polar bear at one point, though it could have been a Texel ram.
Down with the kids
What I should have done was get hold of one of those Ridgeline of New Zealand jackets that all the cool farm kids are wearing. Then I could have been warm and fashionable.
I’m not exaggerating when I say at least 55% of the people we saw there were wearing them.
At one point, five youthful-looking lads swaggered past us, all dressed identically in the aforementioned olive-coloured jackets, skin-tight jeans on legs like drainpipes, and Redback boots, much to our hilarity.
I’m only jealous, though. I wish I was young and virile enough to pull off a mullet haircut, of which we spotted many glorious specimens.
I did threaten to attempt to grow one recently, but I was quickly threatened with divorce, so very reluctantly had to back down.
We did have to temporarily split up, though, as the present Mrs Evans will insist on slowly browsing every single one of the tat – sorry, craft – stalls, and doesn’t remotely have the patience for me moping along miserably behind her.
Instead, while she indulged in some Christmas shopping, I was happily banished to the livestock halls, with the promise that we’d meet up again in a few hours’ time.
So, with the stern instruction of “and don’t be buying anything, either” ringing in my ears, off I went to see what trouble I could get into by myself.
View from the top
I soon ended up on the back row of seats in the stand next to the cattle ring, watching the various breeds on display, and generally being awestruck at the time and effort that must go into every single aspect of showing these magnificent animals.
I particularly enjoyed seeing the young handlers in action, expertly leading their charges around and looking equally smart while doing so. The future of farming is, quite literally, in good hands.
I think it’s these multigenerational aspects that appeal to me the most about events like the Winter Fair.
Perched high in my vantage point, it was lovely to see people of all ages, from very young children on their parent’s shoulders, right through to elderly veterans who’ve seen it all before but keep returning year after year.
Lost in my reverie, I was reminded once again of the importance of coming together as a community in these isolated times we’re living in.
Alone on the farm, it can feel like the world’s against us, but in reality, we’re all in it together.