There’s something frivolously unique about Pewsey. Tucked deep in our exclusive district, it thrives with lovable brashness and an inimitable eccentricity which is hard to hide at the best of times, let alone during carnival week.
For those who recall Pewsey Carnivals of yore, as I do, ranting things wouldn’t be the same, rambling off health and safety procedures like they wrote them, I’ve nicked this lovely gallery from Peter Emblin to prove otherwise. Thank you, Peter, most kind of you.
For those not in the know, this is the precursor to Saturday’s parade, called the Wheelbarrow Race, locally dubbed “wheelbeero race,” for self-explanatory reasons.
If I remember rightly, if there are any rules above visiting each pub and stumbling back to the finish line, they’re blatantly overridden.
For outsiders, it’s truly something to behold, a spectacle of rural hilarity and misfit in which every man and his dog, from youngest to oldest, the WHOLE darn village, and boy it’s a big village, dresses up fancy and celebrates in self-regulating panache.
So, have no doubts; Pewsey Carnival never loses its cool, and ponder, shit the bed, I missed that; I’d better bookmark next year’s.