Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Hooray! It's Henley.


The gathered members of the WRC next to the Club tent in the overflow carpark on the Wargrave Road


The Vice Chairman, Captain of Boats, Vice Captain of Boats, Secretary and First Lady in the boat tent area.

The Chair of the Fine Wines & Sprits Committee and Vice Chairman at lunch, whilst the Captain of Boats hoovers up a bagette with gusto

The Chair of the Fine Arts Committee being annointed with Pimm's by the Chairman, thus properly welcoming her to the Club

The First Lady sporting a pith, captured here with the Treasurer

The Chairman & Vice Chairman beneath regatta HQ, sporting the new WRC alternative headgear


So to Henley, for the 18th consecutive year of representation for what we now know and love as the WRC. A record year of attendance for club members was also very much the order of the day, with 6 adult and three junior members ensuring a comprehensive green and white presence on the towpath, and following a week of what could best be described as “changeable” meteorological conditions, we awoke on Saturday to brilliant sunshine which generally characterises red letter days in the club’s history. Despite the AGM having been held the previous evening, we managed to make it to Henley in record time, and after holing ourselves up in a car park about half a mile from the enclosures where we proceeded to have a splendid picnic during which absent friends were remembered, we visited the Regatta enclosure (no children allowed in the Stewards’) and walked as far as the barn bar where we stopped for a couple more bottles of fizz (the Champagne had sold out, would you believe). What with the junior members all seeming to enjoy the occasion and the Vice Chairman and Chair of the Wines & Spirits Committee being in attendance for the first time in recent years, it proved to be a vintage year, resulting in all four members who returned home by taxi sleeping throughout the proceedings due to the amount of fresh air we had enjoyed during the course of the day. Either that or we were sloshed, as custom would of course dictate.



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