I was in Sheringham in Norfolk for the 17th Potty Morris Festival. I think it speaks of a country where potty-ness combined with tradition is celebrated, and I’d like to thank the Morris men and women for their dedication in the face of occasional ridicule. I mean… who among us, in a pair of wooden clogs, could leap and skip?
The men with black faces are the Witchmen from Northants, aka the Hell’s Angels of Morris dancers. You wouldn’t want to mess with them.
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