I suppose you can understand why the people who live in Pratt’s Bottom seem to prefer it without the apostrophe. It’s a rather nice village on the SE outskirts of London, a mile or two from the nearest station. Last year I’d also gone to photograph the crowning of the Pratts Bottom May Queen (no apostrophe!) and arrived a little late for the procession, running up the longish hill after a longish and damp walk from the station and arriving rather out of breath just as the procession got to the village green.
This year I got up earlier and got a lift from a friend, another photographer, and we arrived early to find an empty windswept field with a few swings in the corner. But a van full of a cadet marching band and one small girl in yellow, escorted by her father and also looking for the procession confirmed we were in the right place. Ten minutes later the rain had started and more girls were beginning to arrive.
Chislehurst May Queen were one of five May Queen groups in the procession
Fortunately by the time the procession was ready to leave the rain had stopped and the sun had come out and it stayed dry as we ran up the hill behind the band, keeping up a fast pace to try and warm themselves up.
The crowning
The crowning in the arena was a short event and the fete was officially opened and we walked away to go to our second event of the day. Which was a pity, as Pratt’s Bottom has a rather nice pub facing the fete, which I’d retired to to avoid the rain last year, and photographed the Morris Men. But at least this year I hadn’t got wet – and last year my Nikon 18-200 had seriously jammed with nasty grinding noises (repair cost around £100) while this year it continued to work!
