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In a little way, landing in England feels like home. Having dual citizenship, a colonial upbringing in what was then Rhodesia, living in London for a year in 1994 while traveling overseas (as we called it), one can’t help feeling you are in the center of the world.
Outstanding weather to set the scene, and driving the narrow country roads, I was taken aback at the range of small wildlife roadkill. I always send pics back to my kids, because they think I am mad stopping to admire the roadside deaths as I travel the South African road, collecting ones that are worth having saving. Many have made their way back into the Afton trophy room 😊.
I digressed.
Seeing so many pheasants, it’s worth mentioning how in England, the shooting industry is a global story of note there, where tens of millions are bred to support an age-old industry of pheasant shooting. Regarding shooting, it was for Rigby’s 250th Anniversary that I was there in the heart of England. With an hour to go, due to some guest’s last-minute cancellation, Vanessa cracked the nod too.
I knew it was going to be grand but had no idea how grand.
At Portsmouth harbor there was an aircraft carrier on one side, historic ships, a guard of honor to welcome everyone. A Highland Band belting out war time tunes, haunting bag pipe sounds, 250 serious high-end guests all set the scene. It was spectacular. Money cannot buy tradition and history and the Brits, when they need it, have it in spades.
What a start to the celebrations.
Rigby’s full press release, for those who want to read the full, fact-filled story, can be found here … but let me continue with my personal account.
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