Pretty Chickens

Okay, it’s out of context and not appropriate to joy and jollity, but unfortunately I can’t think of a Shakespeare quotation about happy hens.

On Saturday afternoon I had a private walk booked. I knew nothing about the clients until a day or so in advance: a hen party.

So, if you were about to get married and decided that your hen party should be a guided walk, what would be the subject of that walk?

I put the question to my morning group who were coming on a tour of very lovely Kennington, my Princes and Paupers walk. Jack the Ripper? suggested one, which earned him a surprised stare from myself. Serial killing of women as entertainment always strikes me as macabre, doubly or quadruply so for a hen party.

I won’t do that stagey wait thing they do on quiz shows before telling you if you have the right answer, this hen party wanted a Shakespeare and Dickens tour. Interesting.

When I find my camera I’ll include a photo of the party, but for the moment you’ll have to imagine what they looked like. I’ll give you some hints; most held glasses of prosecco, and some had ribbons in their hair, but thankfully no bunny ears or similar.

They weren’t blue stockings, or at least not noticeably so, but a bunch of intelligent and interesting young women who it was a pleasure to meet.

As a warning, I did show them the info board about wife sales, but my guess is that the bride will be able to look after herself.

Imogen, if you read this, and actually even if you don’t, I wish you a long and happy marriage, and a fabulous day when you celebrate your wedding.

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