The excitement on the banks of the river Cam at Yarlington was intense, although the little river itself, after weeks without rain, barely trickled through its culvert beside the pond. So, to build up a head of water for the renowned duck race, it had been dammed with a bag of sand and gravel, and the final crescendo of excitement from children clambering up every tree, and crowding the banks, was raised by the countdown to lift-off – the moment when a man with a digger shifted the bag that dammed the stream to release a foaming cascade, and the plastic ducks careered away towards the finish line.
This was Sunday afternoon, and the last day of Yarlington Fringe 2011. Yarlington is a very small village in a hidden valley, but it attracts great crowds to its Fringe festival, which owes its origin to a couple who, on the way back from a walking holiday in the Cairngorms, called in on the Edinburgh Fringe, looked about them, and said: "We could do this at Yarlington." There is an open space between the Stag's Head inn and the church, with room for sideshows, displays and marquees. The opera workshop, in the church, is a notable feature. This year's was on La bohème, and we crept in to join the rapt audience as Mimi and Rodolfo rehearsed their soaring Act 1 arias.
Across the way, children, supervised by archaeologists, were scraping anddigging to look for finds from layers of Yarlington's past, while in a tent a folk group delighted a swaying and foot-tapping crowd. There was no time to visit the Langport Mummers or to learn how to build a shelter, or bake bread or a pizza, but we did take in the accomplished brass quintet from Wells Cathedral school, observe the running celebration of beer and cider at the Stag's Head which forms a continuous backdrop and focus of contentment, and find time to indulge in local delicacies supplied by the Chapel Cross Tearoom.