Well, for a kick-off the weather was a tad wild and woolly. In fact, it was so bad that even Sir Ranulph Fiennes brought a letter from his mum to excuse him from having to take part!
So, first and foremost, I apologise for the quality (or, to be more precise, the total lack of quality) of the piccies. However, as I hope you can see, the weather was absolutely bloody appalling and unfortunately, Jacques Cousteau I am not!
Of course, the irony of all this is that in howling winds and torrential rain we are going to a well ..... to get some water!
Once the procession managed to squelch into the small alcove that contains Eia's well the local vicar, Andrew Couch, took some water from the well, blessed it and offered up a prayer .....
Then, we all trudged back the way we came until we finally arrived at the Parish Church. The Mayor and her gang went into the church (allegedly for a short service, probably for a chalice-full of mulled communion wine!), while your correspondent squidged back home for a change of clothing.
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