Carrying on the theme I began with the Anticipation thread, I was wondering about some of the other aspects of a days shooting here in the UK. There is no doubt that the fellowship we enjoy amongst like-minded individuals is one of the key aspects.

Why else would we spend a good deal of our net income amongst a group of mostly the same men on several days a year? Well, it probably comes down to the wonderful camaraderie that exists amongst us, particularly if we have been shooting together over many years, if not decades. We develop those relationships and enjoy each others company, easy in the knowledge that we have a shared passion, as well as shared values.

A good deal of these friendships are forged, developed and sustained during elevenses, lunch and tea. I therefore thought you might like to see where, for me, most of this has taken place. I started beating on this shoot where my father had a gun when I was about 12 years old, usually during the Michaelmas half term and winter holidays from school. And that was when I was introduced to the guns lunch room. In fact it used to be the estate carpenters workshop and his old treadle lathe is still there. You can see it on the edge of one of the photos.

I have had many picnic lunches, glasses of sherry, wine and port at that rough old table, sitting on the companionable benches each side. My father, who has had a gun here since 1960, sits at the top left hand side of the table; that is his spot. I usually sit next to him as he generally brings lunch for both of us. Opposite sits the shoot captain and then the rest of the guns find spaces around the table.

On the walls are displayed interesting old curiosities turned up by the plough over the years. Old farming implements, old WW II hand grenades and rifle rounds from the time the hall was used by the army. There is always a well stocked store of wood next to the fire, always lit for lunch. On the opposite wall is a notice board, with bags from bygone years, notes of interest, thanks for donations from the shoot, a rather vulgar large cigar someone bought back from a holiday, alongside the burst barrels of my current Henry Clarke gun (and there's a story!).

This is one of my favourite places in the world. It holds many happy memories and not a few ghosts of guns who have departed. Long may our sport continue and flourish.

Tim