I had my first experience of wassailing, not if you know what this ancient tradition is, in the West Country, but in the heart of Hackney. It was a magical moment.
A few years ago I helped a group of volunteers reclaim a disused corner and turn it into an urban orchard and allotment space. This place has a lot of significance for me - the many saturdays turning turf and mulching, with a slowly evolving landscape of friendly faces, and then last summer pacing around mid labour as instructed by the midwives.
So last weekend Gustavo and I were invited to be the wassailing king and queen in honour of us leaving for Mexico. This involved drinking cider and apple brandy, banging pots and pans by candle and moonlight to 'banish the spirits and ensure a good harvest', and singing. I loved that this very old ceremony was being evoked in the midst of a very 21st century urban setting. The sun had set and the cool december air, with the perfect sliver of moon, opened a timeless space.
After all the racket, we were standing around drinking and eating and laughing at the silliness, when suddenly Maya picked up a pot and pan and ran away from our huddle into the dark towards the trees banging with all her might and howling at the moon.
I known it is popular for the chattering classes to bemoan the lack of 'community' in the 21st century, particulary in cities. Your community is there for the making. I've had so many moments like this in London, from creating the orchard, to a party in our estate, going to our neighbours christening, gossiping about other neighbours after a shareholders meeting. Yes its a veritable urban Archers over here in Hackney.
As we cycled home all i could hear was a little voice shouting 'moooooon' behind me.
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