"So why exactly do we do it then?" That's not your question to me, by the way. It's my question to my wife, as I searched for a sock under the dog's bed in the camper van at 3.45am. We had been camped up, since about 11pm the previous evening on a small dirt track with no toilet facilities, no anything really, close to a busy road, somewhere near Stonehenge. It was still dark, but only just; on the Eastern horizon a faint glimmer could be seen. We, Wytchwood Morris, some pagans from Birmingham, and a Side-With-No-Name had gathered two days after the official solstice for a little ceremony of our own. Hopefully we might even see the sun this year.......
The pagans were late, arriving in a minbus just minutes before sunrise, which occurred, we think, at around 4.40am behind a bank of cloud. To be fair, when we could finally see the sun, it was quite a lovely sunrise; Stonehenge is certainly a great place to be at this time of year, at that time of day.
The ceremony over, the drummer's arms already aching from having to drum seemingly for about twenty minutes, we got down to some serious dancing. Thanks must go to Tony, from the Side-With-No-Name, for helping me out singing all the way through John Barleycorn. His gruff baritone contrasted with my rather unique tenor beautifully. Imagine if you will, a coming together of Luciano Pavarotti and Bryn Terfel. Well it was nothing like that. The dancers, although absolutely knackered, performed as well as ever. A nice fairly genteel Grenadiers from the Side-With-No-Name (henceforth SWNN) followed the John Barleycorn, then we countered with a Brimfield. A Much Wenlock by SWNN was followed by a Manning Tree and then we all had a rest and a wander round the stones. A bit of a photo opportunity, it's not everyday you get to walk around Stonehenge these days, it's quite a privilege really.
You can see some of the photos on our website.
Having done the Stonehenge thing, we had then decided to carry on dancing at Avebury, the village inside a stone circle about thirty miles to the north, and thus on the way home. After breaking fast at the Little Chef Amesbury (the other Steve and I, true to form, had an Olympic Breakfast, only £7.49), we drove off to Avebury to find the car park locked and bolted against us. Perhaps they'd had a tip off we were coming. We drove into the village and spoke to a nice lady at the visitor centre, who told us that the car park didn't open until 10am, but if we weren't staying all day and were dancing at the visitor centre we could use the residents car park instead.
We parked up, sat about for a bit, waiting for Phil and the SWNN. A gathering of various onlookers, including a fair few Americans, a couple of nice ladies from Old Sarum Morris, and a few Europeans spurred us into action, and after a yawn and a stretch we launched into a few dances. Phil finally turned up some time after 11, SWNN didn't turn up at all, but it later transpired that they had been dancing near the stone circle and also at the Red Lion. I never got to see the Red Lion. I'd taken my tankard to no avail. I did get to sing about John Barleycorn again. It's not really the same as drinking it though is it?
We had a fairly large appreciative audience for most of the morning, and were cheered by the Circle Cafe staff, who brought us out some free tea. That picture on their website, by the way. That's not real morris dancing. It's something called Cotswold ;-)
We even persuaded quite a few members of the audience to "have a go", audience participation usually being the best way to turn a hundred strong crowd into one man and a dog. Well done to all those who took part!
Around 1230ish, we finally decided we'd had enough, and packed in. All in all, an enjoyable, if rather long, day.
So to my question, "why exactly do we do it?"
I'm buggered if I know, but hopefully, through the coming weeks, I can give a little insight into the strange world that is THE MORRIS.
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