One morning as I walked home from my shift at the bakery, I found myself against the tide of hoards of people drifting through the town. They were all headed down an alleyway between two buildings on the sidewalk and towards the racy voice of what could only be an auctioneer. The faint neighing in the background told me it was a horse auction.
I asked one man what it was all about and he said that people from all over the country came to Hay for this event each year. Determined not to miss out on any of the action, I shoved the tiredness to the back of my mind, went back to the house where I was staying-which wasn’t far away-grabbed my camera and returning, I fell in line with the other spectators, horse buyers, whoever, who were wending their way along Hay’s streets to the horse auction. Continue reading