First and foremost, thanks to my family and friends for putting up with me festering in my bedroom for so damned long; it’ll be nice to see you again. To Mum, Dad, Celeste, Benny-boy, Katherine, little Wilfred and a huge and excitable welcome to Otto. To Cristine and Jack for their support, not to mention a fat dose of the Greenham blood.
And on the ground, first and foremost to the principal shamans of fireside joy, Riot and MCsquared, whose music and conversation and brimming souls are the full moon to my moth. To the fire rabble, Lisa, Helen, Tori, Bradon, Tara, Nico, Stefan, Will, Masha, Georgie and to Tom Nancollas for the provision of the finest craic in town. To the West Berks crew, Darren, Pete, Ian, James, Will F, Will T, Leo, Griffin and Ruairidh Maggs, and to the two people that bred the last three, Dave and Helen. To the land crew, Robin Grey, Guy Shrubsole, Marion Shoard, Anna Powell-Smith, Tom Kenny, Roo Bramley, Kate Huggett, Maria and Luca Sanders, Jo and Holly from Black Bark Films, for their help, advice and comradeship and in particular to Robin and Guy for reading drafts of this book. A shout out to Mike, Gill and Simon of the Land magazine and to Three Acres and a Cow, the magnificent show that weaves together 1000 years of land rights history with excellent folk song and storytelling.
To my beautiful housemates, Leo Kay, Sam Campbell and the master, Alex de Texeira de Silva, not least for bearing that foul hum that emanated from my room. To the people that helped me with my book and its rambles, to John Padwick, Louisa Adjoa Parker, Vanessa Kisuule, Richard Collins, Dave Baum, Chris Sharp, James Morgan, Gwennie von Einsiedel, Sam Lee and Robby Mac, who gets a mention in every book I’ve done, because he’s proper lush. To Jackie Morris and Jay Griffiths, for literally everything they have ever done. To Elise and Ivor Colledge, Nilofar Shirvani, to Tribidabo and Simon Reithoffer, whose gypsy guitar is unmatched by any other, except perhaps that picker in Paris. To Eli Hynes, Lydia Gluck, Emily Dickie, and to Farmer Ambler, who gave me his time and permission to be on his land. To Jasmine, Titus, Anouk, Electra and of course Hercules and his magnificent auto-felation, which I am proud to have finally commemorated in print. To Jonathan, Iris, Sky and Anna, to James, Edwin, Ottie and Nicola. To Lawrence and Amelia, whom I met on the banks of the Thames, and (lucky for me) came armed not with an axe, but with food and Georgist insights. To Gandalf and the STAG gang, whose names are legion, and whose persistent resistance has been truly inspiring. To Rob Heron and the Tea Pad Orchestra, to Lankum, Ye Vagabonds, Eliza Carthy, the Bothy band, Paul Brady, Nic Jones, Andy Irvine, Donal Lunny and Kevin Burke, who formed the soundtrack to my solo rambles, and especially the song Martin Wynn/The Longford Tinker, which is the heart and soul of this book. To Jessica Stiles and the meadow we share.
Thank you finally to my editor Marigold Atkey, whose support and expertise throughout was especially appreciated, and to my agent, Jessica Woollard, for all her words of wisdom and humour. I literally couldn’t have done it without you both.
Thank you all! xxx