What a great day we had on Tuesday – at the Royal Welsh Show in Builth Wells. The show ground is about 85 miles away from us and so, like a couple of kids on a school trip, we were up at the crack of dawn (well 07:00 but that is very early these days!), quickly dressed and gone. Great weather and clear roads all the way were our reward until we hit the back of the queue with three miles to go to the show ground – disaster! But no: in fact the queue was only about 150 meters long and all the traffic for the show was being diverted into a huge field full of caravans, tents and vehicles for transporting all sorts of animals and machinery which belonged to those exhibitors who were staying for the four days of the show. So within minutes of joining the queue we were parked up and walking to the buses which were operating a free park and ride to the show ground itself. Well done the organisers – a great system which worked a treat.
What first impressed us about the show was its sheer size and the really bright colours of the farm machinery and the advertising banners – the latter reminded my of the colourful flags and banners that the samurai carried in their final charge in the film The Last Samurai.
Although we had 10 hours to wander, I wasn’t sure that we could do it all justice so we decided to do the trade stand end first and then get to the arenas and the livestock competitions later. Undaunted, we set off up and down the everlasting lanes of stalls and stands, resisting the continuous allure of fast food stalls and many opportunities to have a coffee, Pimms or something stronger! I have to confess that I didn’t actually know what half the machinery was for: I only know that they were all painted in the brightest of primary colours and came in all shapes, sizes and price ranges. Row after row after row of everything you could ever need for the farm.
Tomorrow’s farmers were not going to miss out on the opportunity to try the latest gadgetry!
We came to see and enjoy, but also to broaden our understanding of the culture and values of the people who make such a impressive spectacle: to us it is part of our journey; our transition to Welsh rural life and so the livestock and competition side of the show was of particular interest to us and we were not disappointed . We learned quickly that they are serious about their stock and their skills – from blacksmiths to side saddle horse riders and from prize bulls to hens eggs and from butchered meat to themed flower arranging – every conceivable skill was on display and the attention to detail in every facet was absolutely precise. A visiting towny might have expected a hog roast, a few ciders and a over sized village parade – and don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of time and opportunity to have great fun – but intense showmanship and professional skills were the prevalent order of the day. I felt the tangible pride of the stock-men and women and the intense concentration of the crowd as they watched the judges in the arena, examining, re-examining and then doing it all again – they would not be hurried and nor did the crowd expect them to: it struck me that the judges were as much under the microscope as the livestock! This was serious business and so it should be, given that these shows perpetuate all that is best about the magnificent traditions of the past.
As I watched the judging of several breeds and classes I started to recognise the British Blonde, the Aberdeen Angus, the Herefordshire, the Shorthorn and the Charolais etc before the commentator confirmed the breed: and I had to smile to myself as an image of Charlie (our neighbouring farmer’s Herefordshire bull who was busy ‘performing’ at home) came into my mind. I wondered what he would make of all this! Last time I saw him he was having a rest in a large pool of mud and he looked like he had not slept for a while! I wondered whether these highly groomed and slightly aloof young heifers and older cows would cross the road if they saw him wondering along. I like Charlie: he’s a down to earth kind of bull and he seems quite happy with his lot in the Gwaun Valley!
Away from the bovines, there were horse, sheep, pigs, goats and fowl of every persuasion: all being groomed and judged and the winners paraded proudly with their rosette awards.
Sometimes the owners found it all too much – and they just had to get their heads down for a rest – even if it was in the pig pen! And we even saw a puffin having a break!
And to prove that it is never too late, these pigs were given their awards even though their spirits had already gone to the pig pen in the sky.
Away from the animals we were fascinated by the intensity of the competition amongst the blacksmiths. These young men undertake a four and a half year apprenticeship before they are allowed to work on their own: their methods have changed little for thousands of years and my mind quickly wandered off the Iron and Celtic ages in the Preseli’s. Those craftsmen, and these young men would have had much in common in terms of tools and techniques. I find the longevity of the blacksmith’s skills to be a strangely comforting anchor in a world where tradition is more usually measured in terms of the time between software updates.
But the past also showed itself to be alive just round the next corner in the side-saddle competition. Apart from one of the competitors reminding me of my old school matron (ferocious and not to be messed with) I absolutely loved the commentators line which greeted us: ‘… Etiquette demands that side-saddle riders are to wear bowler hats before 12 noon.’
These ladies were every bit as serious about the competition as any of the livestock men and women we had watched.
And then came the roar from above and the Spitfire and Hurricane flew low to remind us that we were all in it together then, as we still are now and that all was safe and well: just for a moment it was a summers day back in 1942 and it was a wonderful feeling.
It was 19:30 when we started our journey home via a stall selling venison burgers for half price! And our bag was weighed down by pounds of local cheeses. What an absolutely cracking day: we were so glad we made the effort and it will definitely be the first of many show visits for us. We had more than achieved the aim: we had lifted the lid on the Royal Welsh Show and we had seen and understood more of the culture that underpins it: and we were proud to be able to say that today we live amongst that proud community. We are so lucky.