Back to the Gypsy Camp...

Today I took a walk in that glade where the gypsies used to camp - it is empty now, for the tribe has moved to Riversleigh and is setting up camp in an apple grove nearby.

I walked over the ashes of old campfires, and remembered the times before - the dancing, the singing, the feasting and joyful celebrations.

The sound of tambourines, pipes and drums has moved to Riversleigh now - the soft southern sunshine gives away to crisp country breezes and winding lanes. As the caravans creak toward the apple grove, even the horses perk up because they will soon be freed from their traces to roll in the lush grass and pick up the windfall apples.

One wagon moves slower than the others - it is stocked with the old cider known as scrumpy, picked up as the tribe moved through Kent, ready for the celebrations to come. I warn you, travellers, scrumpy is powerful stuff. It will make the tone deaf and lead footed sing and dance.

The gypsies will sleep tonight, under the bright stars shining down on the apple grove. Then Lavengro and his people will rise early in the morning, fetch water from the well and ready the camp to welcome any visitors that happen by. They have stories to tell, and wonders to show you from their travels, so be sure to pop in and see what's new.