Andy, Summer 1990

A brief glance at these snappy threads, and it’s no surprise that 19 years on, Andy is a mover, a shaker and a trend-setter in the fashion world.

Andy - a key member of the famous Winchester School of Art football team

Some people look back at their youth with rose-tinted nostalgia. Not here though - at Winchester we endured a gruelling regime of painting, football training and DJing at the student union.

All this at an institution where the girls outnumbered the boys by 4-1. Why cruel world, why?!

Andy with long-time sparring partner Alasdhair
(Many of their musical concepts were later stolen by Liam and Noel Gallagher)

Andy had two great musical loves at Winchester: house music and Kylie Minogue. Here he is dancing to some thumpin’ house tunes, being played by my buddy Scott (see earlier blog post) who often came down to Winchester to DJ.

Don’t let the pastel colours fool you - the most popular art-school outfits at the time usually involved wearing black, or NATO army surplus.

Al, Andy, John and Danny at Andy’s 40th - finding some mirth at one of the photos above.

Spot the difference - John and Al - October 1991

John and Al - September 2009

Niall on the dancefloor

Nial on the dancefloor in 1991

Now this difference is impossible to spot…

Everything just as it was - except Danny no longer drinks his pints using a pink straw.

Danny gets confused, and mistakes Andy for one of those cute textiles design students from yesteryear

Re-enacting the football photo from earlier in the post
The same tremendously high level of handsomeness remains - especially in the front row (towards the right-hand side…)

The whole crew

The Dog’s 40th: it was a night none of the residents in South Woodham Ferrers will ever forget - mainly because Scott boomed out thumpin’ house tunes until well after 3am.

Del-boy, Mark, Scott and Andy: Germany 1995

Happy times - when we all had a lot more hair.

Scott, Rob, Andy and Mark: Somerset, October 1978

Many of you might not know that ‘The Harlow Branch’ met on the Essex billiard circuit in the late 70’s. Andy, Scott and myself were all pro-players. Rob was the local enforcer, while Del-boy ran a numbers racket.

Mark, Del-boy, Andy, Rob and Scott: Leytonstone, 2009

Still competing, but in a slightly different format of the game - here we are shortly after winning the 2009 London Open Pocket-Billiards Championship. But I digress, this post is all about the Dog’s 40th birthday celebrations…

One of Scott’s presents was a Spurs shirt bearing his nick-name….

…the other was a number plate, bearing his nick-name. Don’t ever let it be said we don’t have class in Essex…

Scott’s birthday cake, with a football theme. Funny that…

Scott and Sally

Rob, Abigail, Scott and Benjamin dancing the night away

The Barrel and Martin showing us all how it should be done

Me, shortly before dropping Fiona. Unfortunately, there isn’t as much of the old magic as there once was…

Martin still showing us how its done…

I can’t think of a suitable caption for this photo….

At about 2.30am the familiar sounds of an old 80’s Frankie Knuckles tune kicked in.

It’s good to know that as long as we’re fed some Chicken Biryani and regular Stella Artois then we can still keep going until the early hours!

Spuds, pumpkins, courgettes, peas, beans, garlic, onions, parsnips, carrots, cucumbers, fennel, blueberries, raspberries, redcurrants, strawberries, rhubarb… Bronny and I decided this year to transform the garden into our very own allotment!

(BTW if anyone from Waltham Forest council reads this blog, then please let us know what has happened to our February 2008 allotment application…)

The Garden, mid April 2009

The first job was to get organised. We cut some plants back and started moving things into more convenient places - like the compost bins. Then, in an exhibition of fine carpentry, I built a raised bed to go in the centre of the garden (photo below.)

The Garden, late June 2009

Things are now starting to take shape. We’ve germinated lots of seedlings and started to plant them.

The Garden, late July

By July, and we’re actually starting to harvest things: spuds, lettuce, strawberrys, garlic, onions and beans. OK, not enought to live, but still tremendously exciting…

In May/June a swarm of aphids descended on the garden. After some intensive Internet research we found out that we could buy a pack of ladybirds, who would soon rid us of the aphids by eating them. We were even suckered into buying a ladybird house as well. In this photo, you can observe a ladybird moving in the opposite direction of the aphid behind it - despite us cheering him to go the other way.

From this modest black bin…..

… came 3lb 10 1/2 oz of spuds. What a feast!

Broad beans.

Some recently harvested Garlic. Our composting and liquid feed efforts really paid-off. The garlic that didn’t recieve such TLC was much smaller.

A recent haul of garlic and onions.

And interestingly, we have even managed to grow a golf ball!

This years first strawberry.

Mibila Village Clinic. The word ‘Handenu’ painted on the front means ‘be healed.’

Three years ago, I became involved with a project to provide primary healthcare in a remote region of Zambia, in southern Africa.

Jon Witt and Barry Ilunga. Their vision made the clinic a reality.

My friends Jon Witt and Bishop Barry Ilunga decided to build a clinic at the end of an 18 kilometer track (which itself is 30 kilometers from the nearest town).

It is 18 kilometers from Mibila to the main road. Before the clinic was built, this distance and terrain meant that an extreme medical emergency would almost always be fatal.

A team of volunteers from the UK spent six weeks deep in the bush, toiling with the local villagers building the clinic brick-by-brick.

A garage sale at my parents house - which raised £200 for the clinic

The tough part about fund-raising for projects like Mibila Village Clinic is that its easy to get people excited about funding its construction - but then the un-glamorous part starts - which is financing its day-to-day operations.

However, since the clinic opened in November 2006, you - my friends and family - have donated 20% of the clinic’s running costs.

That’s right, 20%!

The clinic costs £12,000 a year to run and currently has 4,000 registered patients. (The actual number of people served by the clinic is far greater, because while a mother and child may be registered, the father and older children may not have had reason to visit yet.)

Therefore, it is costing about £3 per patient to run the clinic.

A donation from you will provide primary healthcare for families like Moses and Helen’s.

This means a donation of £25 from you will provide healthcare for one family for a year.

The reason why we’re able to provide a comprehensive primary healthcare service for such a small cost is:

1. The clinic is served by a team of volunteer healthworkers - who all live in or near Mibila

2. A further team of volunteers is being trained and supervised by the clinic - for example, teaching some of the mature ladies to be birthing attendants.

3. The clinic has developed close ties with the local Zambian Health board who now supply a proportion of the clinic’s medicine/supplies

4. A team of UK volunteers source unwanted medical supplies in the UK and send them to Zambia

All the above means that every penny donated via my Justgiving website is spent directly on the clinic.

Statistically speaking, without any primary health-care, two of these children will die before they are adults

The most vulnerable and those most in need of primary healthcare are the mothers, new-borns and children. Zambia has one of the lowest life-expectancies in the world at 37. This is due to the extremely high infant mortality rate.

Gertrude with Freda, the first baby born in the clinic in 2006

This is Freda, the first baby to be born at the clinic. Her mother and father are Gertrude and Stanley. Freda’s older sister died before the clinic was built. She became sick, and her ailments baffled the local Witch Doctor. An all too common story in rural Africa… but Freda has had a completely different start to life.

Gertrude, Stanley and family in April 2007

During her pregnancy, Gertrude’s health was closely monitored by the clinic. She gave birth in safe, comfortable surroundings and Freda was delivered by an expert nurse. Since then Freda has been given immmunisations, regular health checks and sleeps under a mosquito net provided by the clinic.

These are all very basic, and very low-cost measures that are transforming the life expectancy in Mibila village and the surrounding areas.

Gertrude, Stanley and their family in 2008. Gertrude is expecting another child before Christmas

The very first day I arrived in Zambia in 2006 I met and made friends with Sunday and Exhilda.

Sunday and Exhilda on the land they cultivate. A job harder than normal, as they both also volunteer for three days a week at the clinic

Sunday and Exhilda are two of the volunteer health workers at Mibila Clinic. Three days a week they bicycle 7 kilometers from their village of Milulu to work at the clinic.

When I arrived at their house this year there was a moment of complete joy as Sunday and Exhilda showed-off their first Grandson, Alan. This moment didn’t last long. Alan’s mother Losah (their eldest daughter), was being nursed under a tree by her sister Sarah.

Seeing me, Losah determinedly dragged herself to her feet, and joined the rest of the family to be photographed inside their home. Picture taken, she lay back down again and Sunday explained that Losah had HIV/Aids.

Sunday, Exhilda, Richard, Losah and Alan, and Sarah. Losah has HIV AIDS.

Losah’s experience is illustrative of the AIDS pandemic sweeping Africa. It is something we all know about, but when it’s happening in front of your own eyes, it takes on a whole new significance and urgency. The added tragedy is that AIDS attacks the young and the healthy - the people who have survived all the childhood illnesses that take such a high toll.

A crucial role that Mibila Village Clinic is taking is in health education, specifically AIDS awareness. Again, these can be very low-cost activities. For example, the health workers often organise football matches - and then do AIDS awareness talks afterwards.

Nurse George and Mercy

Key to the success of Mibila Village Clinic is Nurse George. He moved to the village with his wife Mercy earlier this year and my first impression was that George is obviously a competent and devoted man - and that when I met him he was also utterly exhausted. It transpired that he had spent a whole night and day with a pregnant mother. It wasn’t even a patient from the clinic, but someone visiting relatives. However, she had gone into labour, and then experienced complications.

Nurse George and his wife Mercy, with their modest home in the distance

George’s job description and the clinic’s remit does not include undertaking any surgery. According to the rule-book, he should have referred her to the hospital and done nothing more. But the hospital was 50 kilometers away, and by taking responsibility in that moment, he put his career on the line.

Today, this mother and child are alive because of George, the clinic, and the people whose donations continue to fund its existence.

I hope this update has given you some idea of the tremendous work the clinic is doing, and the impact it is having on the families of Mibila village and the surrounding community.

If you have donated before, I hope you will donate again. And if you haven’t donated yet, then I hope you will become one of Mibila Village Clinics long-term supporters. We really need your help.

Thank you!

http://www.justgiving.com/mibilavillageclinic

Rob flanked by Mark (left) and Scott (right)

There are few people more inspirational than my friend Rob. He’s been an inner-city school teacher for over ten years and had a tremendous impact on numerous young student’s lives. But as they - and Rob’s colleagues are all acutely aware - much of Rob’s own inspiration comes from watching Spurs play at White Hart Lane.

Rob and Scott in December 1991. Delighted to hear Ginola will be signing for Spurs in six years time

Rob and Scott in December 2008, still celebrating Ginola’s wonder-goal against Barnsley in March 1999

And there have been few more inspiring Spurs players in recent years, than David Ginola. All football fans remember the Frenchman’s touch of genius, while most will recall a light-hearted stadium-chant suggesting that Ginola might be on Posh Spice’s mind during a certain ’domestic’ activity with her husband. 

Anyway, no suprise that Tottenham Hotspur inducted Ginola into the Spurs Hall of Fame, and Rob, Scott and I attended the event on December 11th as part of Rob’s 40th birthday celebrations.

‘When Ledley, goes up, to get the Carling Cup, we’ll be there…’

As we arrived at the ground, we were greeted by a security guard, well known for previously ejecting one of us from the ground during a match for ‘over-exuberence.’ But after brandishing our tickets and giving him a Ginola-like shimmy, we were soon safely within the hallowed confines of the stadium.
Rob, with a reputation for talking ten-to-the-dozen was temporarily quiet… …and took in the surroundings with a reverence usually exhibited by pilgrims to religous shrines.

‘This is suite…’

‘Non! Non, David! We’re not worthy!’

Soon, we were in the club marquee, and watching Ginola make his modest entrance. Rob picked his moment and went and said a few private words to his hero.

Later, some of Ginola’s old team-mates made warm introductions. Midfield hard-men Tim Sherwood and Allan Nielsen recalled their exhertions to win the ball before Ginola could begin his mazy runs. Gary Mabbutt and David Pleat reminisced appropriately. There’s always a danger that awards ceremonies will turn into one big love-in, but the right note of appreciation and gentle ribbing was struck.

Ginola was invited onto the stage and similarly hit the right note of gratitude and appreciation. A moment of quality mirth involved an anecdote about Tim Sherwood. Before playing together at Spurs, their prior encounters for different clubs usually left Ginola on the ground being told by Sherwood to, ‘get up you French twat.’

Top Banter…

‘Who is that over there? Sacre bleu! Its George Graham! I am so pleased to see you!’

Gary Mabbutt giving David Ginola his award

‘Because he’s worth it…’

Ginola seemed really, really delighted to be given his award, and I was glad to see someone so talented - and so often misunderstood by the managers he played for - being given some well-deserved kudos.

Its impossible to know someone from an occasion like this, but I was left with the impression of a man whose dazzling confidence on the pitch was matched by a genuine modesty away from it. Ginola seemed like the sort of bloke that would be very welcome on one of our nights out - although its fair to say he might find it a difficult experience, because of course all the girls would be looking at us handsome hunks and not David… 

David Ginola and Turkish

One of the worlds most infamous heart-throbs and ladies man. And David Ginola…

As the evening wore on, Ginola and the other Spurs legends - Pat Jennings, Gary Mabbut et al - were all tremendous good sports signing autographs and having their photos taken. Rob, true to form, greeted each one as if he’d just bumped into them at the pub and was clearly having the time of his life.

Rob, Pat Jennings and Scott. Incidentally, Pat Jennings and I have two similarities: we’re both goalkeepers, and niether of us has changed our hair-styles since the 1970’s

A genuine, old fashioned gent. Pat Jennings was photographed on numeous occasions and was charming and accomodating throughout the evening.

“I think I’m going to win the raffle,” said Mary who was sat next to Scott. A couple of hours later, she did!

Gary Mabbutt. Sixteen years playing for Spurs. When he ran round the pitch at White Hart Lane after his final game, many grown men (including Rob) shed a few tears.

A bonus to the whole evening was watching Scott snoozing at our table. Our charming waitress had cleared everything around him, and as Rob and I returned from our numerous photo-calls she asked, looking at Scott, ‘I don’t know what to do… what should I do?’ At this point, Rob and I realised that this evening of inspiration was now at an end. It was time to wrap Scott up, and escort him home like a sleepy toddler.

The Flitch, The Mayor, Town Crier and Louise from ‘Over the Wall’: an everyday scene in Great Dunmow

Ever since that famous day in July 2008, when Jeff and Erin won their Flitch Trial in Great Dunmow, people have been asking, ‘What happened to their Flitch?’

(Click here to learn more about the Great Dunmow Flitch trials - and to understand any of the jokes in this particular missive.)

Due to a draconian policy instigated by US border control, citizens are not permitted to bring fully grown, but recently deceased pigs into their country.

‘I was mighty miffed when I found out,’ drawled Jeff, who grew up in Arizona. ‘This here Flitch represents my love for Erin, which was ratified by the kind folk of Great Dunmow giving us yonder pig.’

‘I agree,’ continued Erin. ‘It would have quite easily fitted into our hand luggage. But no mind, while the Flitch remains in Essex, my true love is by my side every day. Aren’t you honey?’

‘Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise!’

Michael Chapman: Flitch Trial judge, solicitor and carvery operative

Fortunately for all concerned - and always eager to avoid an international incident - Flitch Trial Judge Michael Chapman came up with a brilliant solution.

The Flitch would remain in England, but be used to entice the local populace to purchase tickets to a Yankee Hog Roast to be held on Thanksgiving day. The proceeds would then be donated to the ‘Over the Wall’ charity.

Jeff and Erin: more interesting in real life

Flitch-Trial audience member, Chris Collins applauds their great idea. ‘Jeff and Erin met while working for the US arm of the ‘Over the Wall’ charity. They have dedicated their professional lives - and much of their personal life to the welfare of children - so there is a perfect symmetry to their Flitch being converted into a charitable resource.’

The Flitch: a right carve up

Well, as all should know by now, when the people of Great Dunmow set their heart on something, you’re guaranteed a first class event. The Great Dunmow Rotary club swung into action: pig roasting and carving experts generously donated their time; decorations were hand-crafted by teams of dedicated artisans and tickets were sold by the dozen.

The Flitch Trial chaplain. ‘No loaves and fishes, I’m afraid, but how about a wedge of hog-in-a-bap?’

Get your baps out

Do you come here often?

It didn’t take long for the Flitch to disappear as over a hundred dancers chowed-down. Then it was time to grab your partners, and mosey onto the dancefloor.

‘I was able to see the photos from the event prior to them being posted online,’ explained Flitch-Trial audience member and line dancing expert, Elaine Cagnina. ‘Getting some of those steps right is harder than getting an MD Phd. But from what I saw, the dancing at the Hog Roast was flawless.’

Mark volunteers to relay a message of love from Tennessee

During a break in the dancing, Louise from Over the Wall explained what great work the charity does, working with seriously ill children - many of them with life limiting conditions.

A message of love from Jeff and Erin was relayed by Mark:

Dear Great Dunmow-ians,

Our love and greetings from the United States.

Our love,
Jeff and Erin

It may not surprise you to learn that tears were shed at these kind words, and for a moment it felt like Jeff and Erin were actually with us. Then, it was time to resume the dancing, and enjoy the continued celebration of true love and Great Dunmow Flitches.

Dancing to Country Music standard, ‘Achy, Breaky, Flitch…’

And it doesn’t end here…

… on April 30th we’ll be attending a cheque-handing-over ceremony where the Great Dunmow Rotary club will be giving Over the Wall the proceeds from the Flitch Hog Roast - a massive £1700!

Well done Great Dunmow!

‘What’s a Flitch?’ …. ‘I don’t know, but lets come back in four years and compete for one.’

Some time in the dim and distant mists of time… March 2004 to be precise… Chris Collins, and self-styled ‘directional savant,’ Jeff Dotts, got lost en-route from Heathrow Airport to visit me in Suffolk.

Fortuitously, they stumbled across a sign saying, ‘Great Dunmow, Ancient Flitch Town.’ Their curiosity piqued, they subsquently found out all about the famous Great Dunmow Flitch Trials, where married couples can put their love on trial, and if successful, win half a pig. The die was cast - they resolved to return with wives and friends, and compete for half a cured, salted pig as couples have done since 1104.

Despite the fluctuations on the currency market meaning one of our UK pounds costs approx $1 million, three American couples - Jeff and Erin, Chris and Nathalie, Shawn and Elaine - all decided to apply for the trials. But only five couples are selected for trials, which are held every four years.

We waited with baited breath…. would one of the couples be selected…. and yes, Jeff and Erin were!

Gordon Brown doesn’t look this happy after being interviewed on Radio 4. Jeff, Erin and Flitch Trial Judge, Micahael Chapman

As dawn broke on July 12th, a day which will live forever in the annals of true-love and pork products, Jeff and Erin explained to an expectant nation, via the BBC Radio Four outside broadcast car, why they had come from Nashville, Tennessee to put their love on trial. ‘What better way,’ explained Jeff, to Edward Sturton, ‘to express the love you have for your wife than to compete for bacon?’

Mr Sturton, used to grilling senior politicians and world leaders, on a regular basis wanted to know more. Was Erin worried about the questions she might be asked on the trial. ‘I’m just going to tell the truth,’ she said, ‘that we’re in love and happily married.’

Flitch Trial judge, Michael Chapman, sat alongside, and explained how the trials would unfold. He would sit high on a Dias with the jury to one side and the counsel to the other. There would be counsel for the couple, whose job it was to convince the jury neither had ‘wished each other apart’ in ‘a year and a day,’or committed a ‘nuptial transgression.’ Then, there would be counsel for the owners of the bacon, whose job it was to prevent them winning the prize.

Judge and Counsel from yester-year

While we waited for Jeff and Erin’s trial, we happened acroos a small exhibit of Flitch Trial photographs. These ones above are from the 1905 trials. They were the inspiration for the ‘team’ photo I took of the 2008 Judge and Counsel.

Jeff and Erin with Flitch Judge, Counsel, Usher and Chaplain

Make way for the Flitch!

Jeff and Erin were going to be the second trial of the day. However, it wasn’t just a case of turning up, each trial was preceeded by a procession through the town, led by the court usher who stopped traffic to make way for the judge, jury, claimants and Flitch.

‘Oh Yay, Oh Yay…’ Richard Harris, Great Dunmow’s Town Cryer, explaining what’s going on…

The Great Dunmow Flitch Bearers carrying the prize.

‘Do you come here often?’

As Jeff and Erin followed the Flitch, a BBC TV crew appeared.

They were Miriam O’Reilly, and the BBC Countryfile team and they interviewed Jeff and Erin on the …. *ahem*… hoof…

The Court Usher, Martin Reed, leading Jeff and Erin into the Court Room. There were six hundred expectant people in the audience.

The Jury of six maidens and six bachelors were sworn-in. They are all chosen for their tender years in the hope that they are un-scarred and un-cynical about the whole concept of marriage.

‘What we’re looking for,’ the girls explained before the trial, ‘is the sort of relationship we’d like to have in the future…’

Jeff and Erin are sworn-in

‘If you think we look funny now, this is what we wear to work.’

Chris Hancock, Counsel for Jeff and Erin started the proceedings. His first question was, ‘Where is your home?’ Erin replied, with their Nashville address, and the whole marquee was suddenly full of whispered exclamations and comments. They were the first American couple in almost 1000 years to compete for a Flitch! Although in fairness, the trials had ben going on for 700 years before America popped up on the world scene.

Chris’s second question, once the hubub had subsided was, ‘And how on earth did you end up in Great Dunnmow?’

There was a hushed pause… Jeff leant towards the microhone, and said, ‘We drove.’

Although this blog may not be able to communicatethe hilarity of the moment, from that second the audience knew they were in for a comedy feast. Jeff and Erin were on absolute top-form. Funny, warm and self-depriciating, the strength of their relationship and their love shone through.

‘Show me the funny….’

They explained how they met - when Jeff interviewed Erin for a job, working as a counsellor at a camp for children with life-threatening illnesses. How they started dating once the job was over and began a long-distance relationship. (Jeff was now working on a project that took inner-city kids into the countryside, ‘we called it the hoods in the woods programme,’ he explained).

Don’t cry for me Great Dunmow….

There were few dry eyes in the marquee when Erin explained how Jeff proposed….. they went for a hike, and at the bottom of the bag Jeff had packed a book containing all the photos since they had met. Jeff asked Erin to look through the photos, with captions and messages, and on the last page he’d written, ‘Look at me.’

She did.
He proposed.
She said, ‘Yes.’

Dave Monk: ‘He kept throwing us soft-balls,’ said Jeff afterwards, ‘and we just kept knocking them out of the park.’

However, it was now time for the counsel for the owners of the bacon to start their attack. Chief counsel was Dave Monk, BBC Radio Essex personality. With verve and witt, he questioned their love, age difference, and why Americans should be given the pig.

‘Like a bacon wafting on the wind.’

However, what no-one was prepared for (except Jeff’s friend’s who’d already heard the song) was the production of a guitar, and the spectacle of Jeff singing Erin, his true love, the Dunmow Flitch song he’d especially written for the event.

Here’s a brief excerpt:
What if we don’t win, let me fill you in, the prize is firmly in my hands
She and me will be, smiling everly
Like a bacon wafting on the wind

The Jury laughing. But will they award the bacon?

While the jury retired to deliberate, Jeff and Erin were interviewed again by Miriam and the BBC Countryfile crew, and were asked for autographs from the audience. The gentleman in the above photo explained his wife had been on the jury when she was a young maiden.

The jury returned. What would they say? Everyone knew it was by no means a certainty that Jeff and Erin would take home the bacon.

‘Do you find for the claimaints or the owners of the bacon.’

For the claimants came the reply!

The winning moment

The crowd go beserk!

Jeff, Erin and the Flitch: It is highly unlikely that I will ever take a more bizarre portrait

After the excitment had died down, a second couple, Mr and Mrs Thorne, took the stand. It was a little like coming on stage after The Beatles in their heyday. They didn’t help their cause by forgetting the day they got married - although it was 40 years ago - but they were unable to convince the jury to give them the bacon.

This meant, that on the return procession to the market square, Jeff and Erin would be held aloft on their Flitch chair, while the Thornes had to walk behind their chair in shame - with the prospect of a concilliatory Gammon awaiting them.

Jeff and Erin on the Flitch chair. ‘Thank goodness for thin Americans,’ said the relieved bearers.

Once the whole procession arrived at the market Square, all eyes were focussed on the decorated dray.

Jeff and Erin’s next task was to join the Flitch Trial Judge and Chaplain, and kneel on pointed stones while they swore the Flitch Oath.

Michael, the Flitch Trial Judge was then able to proclaim to the crowd, ‘The Pleasure is all ours, the bacon is yours!’

Try explaining this back home…

Now, many of you may be wondering what became of the Flitch Jeff and Erin won. Well, on Thanksgiving Day 2008, Michael Chapman will be organising a hog roast with their winning pig, selling tickets and giving the proceeds to the ‘Hole in the Wall Gang,’ charity where Jeff and Erin met. Bronny and I will be going - it you’d like to come too, then let me know.

The next day, Michael invited us to join him and friends for a…. wait for it…. hog roast with his church! A few days later, Jeff, Erin and the rest of the ‘Flitch 08′ team headed home with new friends and fond memories of Great Dunmow.

In day of un-paralleled drama, Jeff Dotts and Erin Albers brought home the bacon, by winning their Flitch trial in Great Dunmow yesterday.

After appearing on BBC Radio 4 and then BBC Radio Essex, by the time most people have just started to enjoy their morning coffee, Team Dotts-Albers had to wait four nerve racking hours, before being paraded through the town behind a Flitch, carried by a team of local hunks, dressed as farm Yokels of yore.

Once on stage, the charming love-birds from Nashville (or ‘Nashers’ as the locals call it) wooed and wowed the audience of 600 people, and more importantly the jury of six maidens and six bachelors with their love, quick witt and self-depreciating humour.

Ably represented by thier Counsel, Chris Hancock, Team Dotts-Albers recounted their initial meeting and courtship, their passion for working with children and their subsequent wedding and happy married life.

Dave Monk, one-time Queens Counsel, and now radio personality did his best to call their love into question and de-rail their route towards a pork future. However, each of his questions was hit, ‘home-run’ style by first one, and then the other member of Team Dotts-Albers and soon it was time for the jury to retire.

But before they did, Flitch Trial Judge, Michael Chapman, allowed Jeff to take out his guitar, and sing his true-love, Erin, his very own Flitch song.

There was hardly a dry eye in the house, but as the jury left, all were aware of their fickle reputation and a habit for refusing the bacon, to seemingly deserving couples.

Local Vicar, The Reverend David Ainge, was one of many locals to congratulate Team Dotts-Albers while the jury was deliberating, and commented: ‘If the Jury don’t come back in your favour, I fear a riot.’ Looking out across the crowd of grey-haired retirees and the middle aged parents of young families, one can only imagine the mayhem that might have ensued.

As the jury returned to give their verdict, a hush enveloped the marquee, and all that could be heard was the muffled results of the tombola being announced on the PA at the Town Fete half a mile away.

The foreman was asked whether the claimants, or the owners of the bacon had won. His answer, after a dramatic, and quite frankly, un-necessary drink of water, was that the claimants had won.

The crowd, as they say, went ‘doo-lally.’

A short time later, Jeff and Erin were lofted high on chairs, and carried through the town. As Erin waved her Union flag, this reporter can confirm chants of ‘USA… USA…’ rang around Great Dunmow and hordes of cheering yokels formed themslves into tight-knit teams of close-harmony singers and sang, at the top of their booming voices, the ‘Battle hymn of the Republic.’

Once in the market square, Jeff and Erin knelt on pointed stone, and swore the Flitch Oath. The Yokels tossed their hats in the air, the Town Cryer rang his bell and the scene was one of utter joy. Except, unfortunately, for the couple tried immediately after Jeff and Erin, who despite 40 years of happy marriage were only rewarded for their efforts with a small ham.

A full report to follow……

Team after first in-country training meal (full English)

Team Flitch O8 has arrived safe and sound in the UK.

Tomorrow, facing the glare of the TV cameras, radio microphones and the probing questions of the press, one of these couples will run the media-gauntlet, and once on the main stage, compete for a Dunmow Flitch.

Win or lose, they already have the greatest prize they could ever want. They are already married to their true loves……

Bring me home boys and girls….

Money can’t buy these tickets

Its the final countdown!

There’s only a few short days left until the contest of contests!

When true-love competes against bacon, to prove an absence of nuptual transgressions, and a surfeit of hugs and kisses.

For centuries, the good folk of Great Dunmow, have placed five worthy couples in front of a jury of maidens and bachelors, to test their love.

Well, three couples from the US of A, and all good friends of mine, have applied to appear in this porky pageant and while the contestents names must be kept secret until the day, it appears there has been some kind of leak (or ‘bubble and squeek’ in cockney parlance) as the Essex Chronicle revealed yesterday:

“Five couples, including a husband and wife from the USA, will line up amid the pageantry to put their marriage to the test and bring home the bacon.”

Could it be, that this un-named couple from the USA are the very same as one of the couples I know?

Is there going to be a love-induced bacon-bonanza of gargantuan proportions?

Will this be the moment, that the rest of the world falls back in love again with America?

The tension is so thick, you could cut it with a butchers knife.