Not going in the water, thanks
Lovely weather for the time of year
The Lady Mayor at Bovington Tank Museum
A Sunday morning dip in the sea
Souvenir socks from the WCO Framework Knitters

Tanks for the Memories

7th June 2026

The Lady Mayor's Livery Weekend in Bournemouth

There are weekends that leave you refreshed, weekends that leave you inspired, and weekends that leave you wondering whether you have accidentally enlisted in the armed forces, joined a farming collective and attended your first day at school all at the same time. The 2026 Livery Weekend in Bournemouth was very much in the third category.

Simon and I were only newly installed when we joined nearly 100 Masters, plus 100 Consorts, the Lady Mayor, her Consort, the Sheriffs and the Civic Team at the clifftop Marriott Hotel for what we had been told was to be a convivial weekend of fellowship and making new friends. In retrospect, that description omitted several important details, including tracked military vehicles, gale-force winds, torrential rain and industrial quantities of cider! Although we did make many new friends!

Friday evening began gently enough, with a 1.5 mile stroll along the promenade to Rockwater in Branksome for supper, and back. The sea was calm, spirits were high and everyone looked remarkably presentable. This was, as it turned out, the last sighting of many of our party in a clean and dry state. We walked home together with the Master of the Gold & Silver Wyre Drawers, the wonderful Liese, who I had already seen performing her role as Master in April when she invited me to her Company's service of dedication at St James Garlickhythe and dinner at Vintners' Hall.

Saturday dawned early and the rain was hammering on the bedroom window. Undaunted, we made our way to the our luxury coaches that had arrived to transport us to The Bovington Tank Museum. Nothing says "weekend away with friends" quite like being loaded onto coaches in the rain straight after breakfast to look at armoured vehicles.

The museum was superb: much developed since our previous visits with children to entertain. We learned some military history, marvelled at engineering ingenuity and discovered that many Masters are secretly twelve years old whenever tanks are involved.

The highlights were undoubtedly discovering under a tarpaulin in the restoration barn an example of the motorcycle on which T E Lawrence was killed nearby, and the opportunity to ride in an open-sided tracked carrier in the mud and driving rain. The phrase "luxury coach" quickly gave way to "hold on tight!" and dignity was in short supply.

The Lady Mayor demonstrated an aptitude for armed warfare, riding in a tank which fired its huge gun in our direction, while we looked on with relief that it wasn’t us sticking out of the top of a moving vehicle in the driving rain. It is reassuring to know that our civic leader comes with hidden capabilities.

Although the weather had clearly decided that umbrellas were pointless accessories, we reboarded the coaches undeterred and headed for a barbecue at the Dorset Cider Farm. The original plan had involved outdoor cooking, a visit to the orchards and pastoral charm. The revised plan involved clearing sheep out of the barn, moving everything indoors and hoping the roof remained attached.

Outside, trees bent alarmingly in the gale. Inside, the Salt Pig barbecue smoke was thick, but cider flowed with enthusiasm and morale remained exceptionally high. The barn was beautifully decorated with greenery and flowers, plates and glasses were rapidly filled and the owner Joe was a fantastic host. There was a collective intake of breath when the Lady Mayor climbed onto an enormous stack of hay bales to address us through the haze, looking like a headline act at Glastonbury. Fortunately, disaster was avoided and she descended safely, much to Gary’s relief.

The next stop was Swanage, where, almost out of embarrassment, the sun attempted a brief appearance.

We were welcomed by the Town Crier, magnificently attired in civic dress and a swan-themed hat that suggested either centuries of tradition or a milliner with a sense of humour. We visited the Guildhall and learned that the centre of the facade had once been part of the Mercers’ Hall on Cheapside, built in 1670 after the Great Fire, before finding its way to Swanage in the 1800s. Few buildings – apart perhaps from London Bridge - can claim quite such a relocation programme. The Master Mercer was delighted to be given a special tour of the interior: Simon and I sneaked in behind her but everyone else had to stay outside.

From there we walked to the railway station for a steam train journey through glorious countryside, passing beneath the ruins of Corfe Castle. For a brief moment, as we shared Marshfield Farm ice creams (from Bath) on a historic train with spectacular views, it felt as though we had wandered into an Enid Blyton adventure. Two Hundred Go Mad in Dorset perhaps? I sat opposite the Master Currier, Bridget, and her daugher Harriet, who is her Consort, and we had a really interesting chat as we watched the sodden countryside go by.

The respite could not last. Soon enough we were back on the coaches, returned to Bournemouth, and engaged in the traditional Livery challenge of transforming from mud-splattered traveller into smart dinner guest in approximately seventeen minutes.

Somehow everyone managed it and we enjoyed a champagne reception and noisy dinner, making new friends and trying to hear what they were saying above the din!

Sunday morning offered one final surprise. While many quietly enjoyed their breakfast and Alka Seltzers, a brave—or possibly misguided—and surprisingly large contingent decided to take a dip in the sea, many sporting traditional striped bathing costumes. Observers noted that the activity appeared to consist primarily of waves, wind and immediate regret. Much respect to my two new friends Liese, Master Gold & Silver Wyre Drawer, and Jane, Master of the Welsh Livery, both of whom had enjoyed my Installation just days earlier.

Following this display of fortitude, we attended a church service at St Mike’s before dispersing to various corners of the country.

And so ended a weekend that featured friendship, history, military hardware, steam trains, evacuated sheep, civic marksmanship, heroic weather and enough cider to sustain a small county.

In short, exactly the sort of weekend that reminds us why the Livery movement continues to thrive: because no matter what plans are made, what weather arrives, or what livestock must be relocated, a gathering of Liverymen and guests will always find a way to enjoy themselves!

It’s Bristol next year. There may be slightly fewer tanks, although after Bournemouth nothing can be ruled out. Our next Master STE will have to wait and see.

Livery Weekend 2027 takes place from 25–27 June.