Oh my goodness me, but what a time we've had.
It's been many a long year since I went to a festival, and that was Glastonbury 1986 - a wildly different affair from a folk-cum-morris festival in 2011.
I think it's probably going to be easiest to tell the story in photos.....for those who want to see a myriad shots of the ladies and gentlemen of the morris doing their thing at Upton Upon Severn, I've opened a new "Flickr" account and have posted a selection of the 354 photos of the weekend that were snapped by Mrs The Millbrooker. To see those photos click here.
Otherwise, for the majority who will doubtless prefer a brief peak into the world of the anarcho-morris warriors of the Wreckers - here's a MUCH smaller selection.
Hmmmm...camping. Not done that for a long time. Think we can just about put up the tent.
There was something of a night at the catering tent (AKA Mary Wrecker's sleeping quarters) which might have involved a small quantity of adult beverages and some singing...
A chilly night under rip-stop nylon and a porridge breakfast later - it was time to get into Wrecking kit and head into town for our official dance spot at 1050 by the King's Head.
The remainder of the morning was spent elbowing our way into less-than-official dance spots alongside other teams from all over the country...
...and rockin' out to our version of the morris: loud and joyful.
The afternoon session as much of the same, including a great massed dance with Stone the Crows from Leyland in Lancashire.
And a huge massed dance with umpteen other teams - we danced "Worcester Monkey". Yes, those two long lines of morris people are doing the same dance and taking up most of the street. The musicians behind are perched perilously atop the river bank.
Another (vaguely organised) massed dance followed back at the official arena (i.e. outside the King's Head).
And that was the Saturday. Sunday started very early indeed. We were up at 0430 to make our way, bleary eyed, to a Capability Brown folly on the Croom estate to dance in the summer as dawn broke. Now that was just bit magical; I'm still on a high from it.
Here we are in the, frankly bloomin' cold, early morn just before setting off from the campsite.
And here's the trek through the dew-laden field to the dance spot.
And we danced in the dawn - the sun peeped over the horizon just as the dance to welcome it finished. Perfect timing.
Another dance spot outside the King's Head later that morning (after a slap up breakfast, I'm unfeasibly glad to report) and that was it for Mrs The Millbrooker, Dozybean and I as we had to miss the procession through town at midday so we could catch the iron horse homeward in time to get a teensy bit of sleep before Black Prince Day (more of which anon).
A huge thank you to all of the ladies and gentlemen of the morris who made this a wonderful weekend to remember. Special thanks to Wrichard and Max Wrecker for patiently organising so much; to Leslie, Mary and Waverley Wrecker for tirelessly working at catering and sorting out life's little essentials; to the Millbrooker-Sis (who had never been on the morris before) for a delicious Friday night meal prepped for all of us by her own fair(ish) hand and to Mrs The Millbrooker for being camera-duty monitor and general beast-of-burden carrying handbags, instrument cases and numerous daily essentials for us all.
Here's to next year - let's go back!
To finish off - here's the Millbrooker-Sis (hereby pronounced honorary Wrecker representative for Great Malvern) having a whale of a time on her morris debut.