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There was no entry fee, and I was able to wander right up to the fence and sit among all the much posher spectators without being questioned or stopped. Good old England!

Suddenly the game stopped and we all invaded the pitch to replace the divots. Posh and not-posh, everyone stomping around enthusiastically.

A young Springer Spaniel called Siggy greeted me like an old friend so I held his lead while his well-known and titled elderly owner stomped divots. (He was too bouncy for her to do both.)

She happily explained everything to me, and we were sitting behind a very important official whose job was to clang this huge bell at the end of each chukkah.
