Easter Egg Rolling

Something John and I used to enjoy was travelling the country in search of weird British traditions. We saw the marble championships, the gravy wrestling, the wife carrying, cheese rolling, worm charming, Pooh sticks and more. So this Easter I decided to go and witness Preston's ever-popular and annual Egg Rolling event on Avenham and Miller Parks. It first began in 1867 in Preston and grew over the years as nearby townsfolk joined in and churches would contribute to the festivities of the day, holding tea parties and entertainment.

At the beginning, the event would have involved rolling decorated boiled eggs down grassy hills. These eggs were known as pace-eggs and were originally a Lancashire custom. They were traditionally decorated by wrapping the eggs in onion skins and boiling them to give the shells a golden mottled effect. Children would then roll their pace-eggs down the hills and see who could get theirs the furthest without it breaking. It was also tradition to destroy any remaining shells on the grassy hills, otherwise Lancashire witches could steal them and use them as boats. Today the Egg Rolling is more modern, rolling chocolate eggs down the steep slopes.

I arrived after a bizarre journey. It should have taken me around 4.5 hours. Coincidentally Amber had ended up driving up to my house on the same day I was driving down to Preston and I was kind of keeping my eye out for her going the other way. I ended up breaking for the loo at around 12pm, and who should I bump into at the sinks in the ladies?! A few seconds either side of that moment and we would have missed each other. We sat and had lunch for 10 minutes and then continued on. I was only an hour away from Preston but could see the ETA on the satnav doing strange things. It turned out the motorway was closed ahead and an incredibly frustrating journey through Lansaster ensued. An hour late I arrived at my accomodation which was Airbnb but another level. My host was around 65, wearing smart jeans and a waistcoat with perfectly trimmed stubble. His home had art everywhere, the place was cool and immaculate with very considered matching decor throughout and the sheets were super-soft. We spent a couple of hours that evening chatting and he talked about his son but also about his male 'best friend', whom he shared a place with in London. No man could be this stylish and straight, surely ...

I headed out for a look round Avenham and Miller Park Japanese garden and suss out the situation for the egg rolling the following day. It was nice but not a patch on Leamington's Jephson Gardens (we were spoiled on the park front).

Then I walked into town to Chew's Yard - a trendy converted warehouse with 'pop-up' style permanent food stalls, a cocktail bar and music on too loud and loud people. I should stay away from venues like that really - I'm too old! The food was very nice but overpriced and the noise made me want to escape. So I headed off as soon as I'd finished to St Walburge's church. It was Easter Sunday after all and they had vespers and benediction at 5.30pm. It is a high Catholic church and they observe all the canonical hours with nuns in attendance and several alter servers, lots of candles, incense and singing. It was truly beautiful and I felt very emotional. The idea of death and resurrection created an ache in my heart and I spent the hour in a kind of dazed meditation, but very aware of my wet face and snotty nose.

I headed back via the railway station but it wasn't quite as pretty as some of the pictures on the internet. It has lovely painted ironwork but at the end of the day it's a modern, working train station. Still, it was on my list.

The following day the Easter egg rolling event was a bit of a wash out but there were still quite a few hardy folk with umbrellas and raincoats. I arrived just in time for the first egg roll at 11am. I had brought a traditionally dyed egg but almost everyone else’s were chocolate eggs in plastic bags. And it was more of an egg throw than a roll - you had to watch your head if you were stood at the bottom of the hill! It turned into kids rolling and sliding down the wet grass which was joyous! The idea was to get your egg the furthest without it breaking but there was no measuring and no winning or losing. There was some entertainment on the small stage, and around the park, a fun fair to keep the kids happy and several workshops under the cover of tents. It was lots of fun despite the rain and it was great seeing people enjoying the day. I hadn't really thought about lunch, so I went for a piri-piri pulled chicken burger which was THE worst thing I’ve ever eaten - soggy, cheap bun and tasteless meat with watery sauce which wasn’t at all spicy - £6.50!

he rain stopped early afternoon in time for a crowd pleasing salsa class and the easter bonnet competition which was very inventive and came with three Easter egg prizes presented by the mayor. Finally an hour of Mela performances rounded of the day. A good effort.

For dinner I decided on Khao Thai and I was the only person in there. It was a pretty unnerving walk to get there, passing men clearly taking drugs of som kind in a corner, another picking up dog ends out of the gutter and others just swaggering in tracksuits, swearing and looking mean. I hate being afraid, but this was not feeling like a nice place to be. I called in at Black Sheep Cafe for a coffee and to read for a bit, and enjoyed their very millenial marketing of 'leave the herd behind'. Clearly they don't know much about sheep, who prefer flocks to herds...

The next morning I visited the Sunshine, Soca and Spice: 50 years of Preston's Caribbean Carnival exhibition at Lancashire archives. It was a small but interesting display. Next was the Wallace and Gromit statue followed by Preston market, which was small and had some nice things, but nothing I really wanted - fruit, meat, shoes and handbags.

Finally, as I was passing, I called in at the Flower Bowl leisure centre for a 1 hour curling taster session. I was 5 minutes late, but seeing as it was just me and the instructor it didn't really matter and I certainly got my money's worth. It is harder than it looks! There is a knack to pushing the stones and putting the right spin on it - that's why it's called curling. You push the stone slightly wide but give it a bit of a spin as you let it go and then as it slows down the spin brings it back to centre. I had a go at pushing the stones, and then at brushing. The idea is that brushing the ice in front of the stone melts it a little, so if the stone is a little slow you can make it travel further as the friction from the brush melts the ice slightly, making it smoother in front of the stone. You really have to give it some welly though. Then the instuctor and I played a mini game (without brushing) and he then set up a simple points based game to practice my pushes. After 50 minutes my knee and back ached and I was hot, but it was great fun. Thanks to the young lad who humoured me turning up on my own and gave me an enjoyable session on the ice nevertheless.