After a trip down to Folkestone, an overnight stay and an early morning, [even Paul H didn’t manage to get his cooked breakfast] it was onto the train and in about 30 mins we were in France. Unfortunately, the weather decided to turn very wet and with the other traffic on the E40 you could only just see the front of the car bonnet. Into Belgium and by then Paul’s stomach was making funny noises so it was a quick pit stop and then onto the venue.
Everything was in full swing when we got there so it was a case of placing out the Swindon trees and then trying to get them photographed, the traders were buzzing around like bees round honey. What a place and some of those trees, would give you a hernia trying to lift them.
The next day was very wet but didn’t stop a big crowd from viewing the trees, it was difficult to find an area where you could photograph them. The traders areas were even worse, and by the time you had made your way to the end, you couldn’t get back again. Still it didn’t stop sales being made. The trouble was excactly what do you buy first.
Luckily in the afternoon it thinned out a bit so that we could manage to see the trees, trouble was that I was so busy trying to get a good picture I couldn’t remember looking at the trees themselves.