Dispatches from the South: Busting Out All Over

Even after seven years June still takes me by surprise.

Winters in Sussex, despite being damp and dreary, are also quite green.  The mild climate is kind to grass and hedges so even in the depths of February, the landscape is predominantly green.  But then June comes around and reminds me of just how green it can get here.

Like its neighbor, Ireland, England is an emerald isle, and for the same reason.  If the gloom of February can’t discourage the green, the warmth of May and June fairly make it explode.  This is what is happening now, as summer sweeps in to lure us (and our pale, plump bodies) out into the fresh air and sunshine.

Happily, here in the south, June also brings with it a lot of outdoor activities to keep us busy:

The Derby

The Derby (pronounced “Darby”) is one of the most prestigious horse races in the world.  Having lived much of my live near another one (Saratoga) I feel a sort of kinship with this much older and, I admit, probably more famous, flat track.

While racing goes on much of the year at Epsom Downs Racecourse, the Derby race takes place on the first weekend in June, so you’d better book now.  Like most things British, there is a long and complicated history attached to it.  Look it up on Wikipedia.

The Trooping of the Colour

The Trooping the Colour is a military ceremony held at Horse Guards Parade outside of Buckingham Place to celebrate the Sovereign’s Birthday.  The Sovereign’s birthday is always in June—it’s part of the job requirement.

I understand this is a spectacular show, filled with all the pomp and ceremony necessary to say a proper, “Happy Birthday, and many more returns of the day” to His or Her Majesty.  Needless to say, I’ve never seen it.

Sussex Day

This is something new to the southeast, having started in 2007, but it seems to be catching on, and I wish it well.  June 16 has been designated as Sussex Day (by who, it is not clear) and was established to celebrate the heritage of Sussex.  (June 16th, by the by, was chosen because it is St Richard’s Day, and St. Dick was the Bishop of Chichester—the seat of Sussex—from 1245 to 1253.)

Sussex Day is not a single event, but more of a grouping of activities held throughout the country over the entire weekend, all focusing on some part of Sussex history, heritage, notables (Kipling and Churchill both lived here), lovely scenery and plum wine.

It’s educational; bring the kids.

Wimbledon

Wimbledon is the oldest tennis tournament in the world and certainly the most famous, proven by the fact that someone like me knows about it.  If you not only know about it but know who is playing, you’ll also know it is one of the four Grand Slam tennis tournaments, and the only one still played on grass courts.  So I won’t bother pointing that out.

The tournament takes place over two weeks in late June and early July, and I’m told you can still get relatively cheap tickets to sit on the lawn and watch the action on large-screen TVs.  My wife went up once during her college days, but I’ve only been to Wimbledon twice and only to change trains.

The South of England Show

The South of England Agricultural Society show is basically a county fair without the fair, and it is one of the few institutions that isn’t astonishingly older than its American counterpart.  The county fair I grew up with (The Chatham Fair), was celebrating its 150th year anniversary (if memory serves) when I was a lad, while the South of England Show was only started in 1967.

Still, it’s a county fair, with cows and sheep and show horses.  It’s the sort of place you go to find out who grew the largest butternut squash in Haywards Heath this year.   I say that with without irony, as I have fond memories of the Chatham Fair and of looking over the 4-H exhibits of string beans, peanut butter cookies and strawberry preserves.  The thing about the Chatham Fair was, once you were tired of looking at prize-winning rabbits, you could go to the mid-way and ride the tilt-a-whirl, scarf down some cotton candy and try to sneak into the tent where they were displaying “The Woman With No Head.”

Of all these many events, this is the one I am most keen to go to.  I’ve always been partial to county fairs, and I’m hoping it will remind me of a time when I had less fat, more tan and a more stable constitution.  Taking that into account, it’s probably a good thing they don’t have a tilt-a-whirl and cotton-candy, but I wouldn’t mind trying to sneak another peek at the lady without her head.