Conga!

Crikey, it's Friday already and I still haven't told you good people what Joce and I got up to last weekend.  It involved further hurtling around this sceptred isle in our trusty Ford Focus (which has racked up 53,000 miles in 24 months) to attend Ross and Jo's wedding down in (aptly) Ross-on-Wye.  The scenery in the Wye Valley was gorgeous, the weather was splendid, and we stayed in the brilliantly-named Symonds Yat.

As weddings go, it was a real belter.  Nice ceremony, good meal, plenty of drinks, funny speeches, and a cracking DJ who had us all on the dancefloor for hours (even doing the conga, '80s stylee).  But what really made it special were the people - rarely have I encountered such a genuinely friendly and easy-going crowd of people at a wedding, and from a variety of different nationalities (Italian, French, American, British..) and races.  It really rekindled my faith in humankind, after the terrible events that had occurred two days previously in London.  The curious thing was, this feeling of friendliness seemed to continue the following day - as we mooched around the city of Gloucester early on Sunday morning, strangers smiled and even greeted us as we passed by - no, really. I suspect that this was partially an outward sign of the stoic British response to the terrorist outrages - a stubborn determination not to let a minority spread their hatred and divide our society...