This year’s North Wales Prosecco Festival was held at the beautiful Brynkinalt Estate, nestling discreetly on the North Wales/Shropshire border amid the leafy splendour of a thousand trees. It is a stunning location. Brynkinalt Hall’s understated grandeur proved the perfect place for hundreds of middle aged women to collectively teeter over the edge of sobriety.
On entering the festival we were greeted by charming event staff and cheerful security chaps. Given that the organisers had just one hour to clear up from the afternoon session, it was particularly impressive that the gate opened bang on the stroke of 6pm and there appeared not a hint of the partying that had gone on before. The Meghan Markle-masked lady spreadeagled on the verge waiting for her lift notwithstanding.
The imposing Brynkinalt Hall stood imperiously over the festival marquee like a rather grand old aunt, daring revellers to misbehave at their peril. The hammocks set on the lawn by the marquee posed just such a challenge. So we gently swayed and swung before a fizz had touched our lips, certain that trying to do so at the end of the night would likely result in a 14 hour wait in the Maelor’s A&E.
Glorious early evening sunshine, Mediterranean blue skies and an eye-poppingly close encounter with a Virgin hot air balloon, which sailed calamitously close to the Hall’s tall chimneys, were a treat to behold.
The Double.LL party took the early opportunity to explore the Hall’s delightful gardens, manicured to within an inch of their life, and sat awhile to admire the architecture. Parts of the main house date back to the eighteenth century. But enough of that I hear you cry, the true focus is surely on how much Prosecco you can quaff whilst dancing to a Robbie Williams impersonator? Well the answer is quite a lot. We enjoyed this act with our VIP neighbours at table seven, a group of women clearly out for a good time; and boy did they get it.
After lols and chats with ‘Robbie’ we stumbled (literally) across the charming Iain and Kate Hill-Trevor, owners of the delightful estate. Attempts by one of our party to persuade them to open the pool to skinny dippers were met with a cheerful rebuff. Something to do with risk assessments or some such.
After a visit to the Italian street food provider for tasty pizzas and another to the nice girls painting faces and flogging fairylight head bands, we hit the dance marquee with the sort of renewed gusto that a tenth bottle amongst nine brings.
Indeed the great triumph of the North Wales Prosecco Festival was the feeling of community and inclusivity that was established predominantly on the dancefloor; chatting, drinking and dancing the night away in the heat until the sweat from my brow snaked all the way down to the fake tan on my ankles.
Altogether, an evening of fine fizz, kind and welcoming hosts and generously understanding security fellows. Hilarity and unhindered happiness. As we headed off for mores in the Boars in Oswestry, lurching from the sublime to the ridiculous, we all agreed we can’t wait for the next one. Congratulations and thanks to the Hill-Trevors and event management company, Cyclone Events for a perfect event.