Saturday 16th May and its the day of the Kinver Country Fayre. I head across to Stourbridge to meet up with Rog and Woody, and then its time for a walk down to Whittington via Gibbet Wood. I still haven't quite recovered from the shock of witnessing Woody walk so far...
Arriving in the teeth of a blustery gale, we had to wait for the Whittington pub to open before settling down with a pint of Cumberland Ale. Pints quaffed, the walk continues down over Whittington Horse Bridge and into Kinver village - this time the rain sets in and we decide to take cover in the Cross where the Hobgoblin beer provides the perfect tonic whilst we dry out.
Thankfully the rain has relented and we can then continue into the village, where the fayre is taking shape with lots of popular stalls already attracting the weekend crowds. We're on the lookout for a good vantage point from which to watch the parade, and find a spot in the car park of the Plough and Harrow armed with a pint of Batham's. Woody gets set to record the event, and come 1pm its time for the off - a police escort arrives followed by the Northfield Caledonian Pipes and Drums, a group of scouts and a fire engine, and that was that. Compared to our previous visit to the carnival, the parade was a little disappointing but the rest of the fayre more than made up for it.
After finishing our Batham's, it was time to investigate the stalls more closely, starting with a charity tombola where we won an array of new cuddly toy friends for Bruce. We had time for a quick drink in the Old White Hart (but only after dodging the Morris dancers), then grabbed a spot of lunch from the chip shop and had a ride on the miniature steam railway. With the rain setting in again, we made a beeline for the Royal Exchange before waiting - and waiting - for the bus back to Stourbridge. The wait meant that Rog got 'hammered' after he somewhat worryingly won himself a squeaky inflatable mallet - oh dear!
Eventually we discovered that Hanson's were only running services to Potters Cross, but we did strike it a little luckier in that the bus was waiting after we'd hiked it up the road. Rog and I alighted at Wollaston to complete our carnival of pubs with visits to the Barley Mow and the Britannia, and the rain returned with avengeance just as I had to make my return dash back home. Even a late soaking couldn't take the gloss off what had proved a fun filled day that the village of Kinver can be very proud of.
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