David's Daily Diversions

The Show Must Go On

Today the Holfords took the Space Cruiser to the Llanthony Show. Shows are a bit like country fairs, except that the latter usually last several days and have more booths. Shows focus on the local livestock and produce, combined with a bit of fun and games. Mrs Holford grew up going to the Llanthony Show and when we saw the sign advertising it a couple of days ago, I suggested that Aidie and I should share in its delights.

Llanthony is a wonderfully picturesque place to spend a day. As we sat on the side of a hill watching the various activities in the arena below, we also looked directly across to another green Welsh mountain, flanked on either side by the same. With the little Honddu brook running through, it is easy to see how St David thought this was the ideal place to get away from it all. So did William de Lacy 600 years later when he founded the monastery that gave the place its name. ("Llanthony" is a contraction of Llan Dewi Nant Honddu - the Church of St David on the Honddu.)

Today, Llanthony was also a very sunny place to spend a day. It wasn't unbearable hot and there were broken clouds, but sunscreen was definitely in order. Aidan was coated in SPF35 before leaving the big brown box on wheels. I wasn't.

It wasn't until about three hours later, during the three-legged race -- or was it the race for dogs under 15 inches -- that I noticed the pink shade on my arms getting brighter and brighter. I decided that expensive baby sunscreen or not, I was going to spread it liberally on my exposed parts. It was too little, too late. Or at least I'd hate to think what I'd look and feel like if I hadn't used it when I did.

By 4:00, I needed some rest and some shade. This is when I discovered that the locks on the Spacemobile had finally given up for good. I used the key in the manner prescribe (as outlined in yesterday's blog) and it turned the tumblers, but the lock did not release. So now picture in your mind this fat, crippled man crawling into the boot, over two sets of seats to reach an interior lock. Yep, that was me.

The culmination of the show, and Mrs Holford's favourite bit, is the Pony Rodeo, which as the name implies, is a bit of Wales meets the North American West. When these two cultures merge, a rodeo becomes a one-event half-hour competition. Wild mountain ponies are rounded up and brought down in a lorry. A sufficiently inebriated or otherwise reckless young man or woman (yes, there were at least three women) climbs onto the back of the pony and in typical rodeo fashion, the chute is opened. The rider (if you can even call them that) typically lasts about two seconds.

They only have about ten ponies, so after the first ten riders, they have to round up the ponies and herd them back into the truck. Watching the wild ponies in a pack and the men working them was like something out of The Man From Snowy River (the good original, with Kirk Douglas in two roles, not the sequel with Brian Dennehy). One of the poines was never ridden, because both times it reared up in the stall and wouldn't let a rider mount it. It looked like it was waving to the crowd.

A women actually had the longest ride (though admittedly the horse was disappointingly docile), but she hurt her back in her relatively easy dismount, so she couldn't ride in the final. Once they announced the winner, we headed home.

On the way, we picked up a man and little girl hitchhiking. They were from Germany and were camping in Llanfihangel Crucorney, the village where the Llanthony road meets the main Hereford to Abergavenny road. We had already passed his wife and son, but by the time we found a place to pull over, someone else had picked them up. They were hiking and camping along Offa's Dyke Path and heard about the Show. It was the first time I had picked up a hitchhiker since 1992 on the Isle of Skye. He was German, too.

I wish I had some great moral or spiritual twist to this incredibly long story. But sometimes it's just good to have a day out, even if you end up a bright shade of red.