Hackney Wicked and the Coracle Regatta

This weekend I was at Hackney Wicked, looking at some art and some people.

The Herbsman Shuffle was there, selling Rosemary as usual.

The owner of this car usually rags it around by himself; up Mare Street, down Broadway Market and all over. He must have been chuffed as nuts about all his new found friends. I was happy for him.

Saw the tag end of a performance that culminated in the giving out of fluffy yellow balls.

I liked it, it reminded me of the tribbles.

 

 

Then came my favourite bit - The Coracle Regatta.

It was a race from one side of the canal to the other, then back again. And it was a lot harder than it looked. I competed and managed to scrape a second place, bah humbug.

There were heats leading up to two winners: one male and one female.

There was fine narration from a man in a striped blazer.
There were streakers on the pitch.

There was confusion.

There was a touch of swimming.

And there was a man who took it a bit too seriously.

 

This girl won, she looked awesome in a coracle - ladylike and powerful. I think I fancied her a bit because the male winner completely slipped my notice. Oh well.