WE ARE WASSAILING

The mid-winter pagan ritual, traditionally held to bless apple trees, is enjoying a revival across rural England. Express reporter AARON NEWBURY finds some ribbon sticks and joins a blessing in the unlikeliest of places... a pub car park in London

- AARON NEWBURY

IF YOU stand at the bar in a London pub on any given evening it’s not uncommon to see some strange sights. But standing at Ferry Boat Inn, catching sight of a woman wearing a top hat adorned with black feathers, I feel a wave of relief wash over me. I’m in the right place. Tonight will either be brilliant or absolutely terrible. There’s no middle ground when it comes to Morris dancing in a Tottenham car park.

I'm here for the winter pagan ritual of wassailing. It’s an evening of revelry traditionally held on the 12th night of Christmas to bless apple trees in the hope of a good future harvest by throwing cider on the roots, and singing and dancing to ward off evil spirits. So popular has it become in recent years, events run throughout January.

Growing up in Dorset, wassailing meant farms, welly boots and people who looked like they had just walked off the set of the Vicar of Dibley. It meant wax jackets, muddy fields and a comforting sense that everyone knew exactly what they were doing and why.

This, on a Saturday in January at a pub in the capital, is categorically not that. Two vans stuffed full of police officers greet me as I exit the train station. As I walk up, dodging cyclists and evening traffic, I’m starting to suspect I may have made a mistake.

Soon I meet Diana and Tony, who run Black Path Morris. They’ve been doing this for 30 years. One of their members joined three months ago, and in that time they have mastered five dances.

“We just sort of met one day and went from there really,” a musician from another group - Black Horse and Standard - tells me. She is holding a fiddle, and her side’s getting the beers in.

There are five Morris sides here tonight. Black Horse and Standard, Black Swan, Black Path, Camden Clog and London Pride. The names sound like craft beers, which feels appropriate given our location.