The Hands That Raise the Marquee: Meeting the Volunteers Who Make Pyle's Weekends Sing

Turn up to any Pyle Garden Village market or fête and you'll notice something before you've even reached the first stall: everything just works. The trestle tables are up. The cakes are labelled. The tombola prizes are arranged with the precision of a museum display.

None of this is luck. It's people — mostly the same faces, year after year, giving up their evenings and weekends because somebody has to, and because, as they'll tell you with a shrug, it's actually rather good fun.

We grabbed a cuppa with three of the village's most committed volunteers to find out what keeps them coming back.

'I Only Offered to Carry a Table'

Margaret Hughes has been helping at Pyle events for nineteen years, and she's quick to point out that she never actually signed up. 'A neighbour asked if I could help carry a table from the hall to the green,' she laughs. 'I've carried a few tables since.'

These days Margaret runs the craft stall at the summer market and has strong opinions about tablecloth colour. 'Cream. Always cream. Shows off the jams properly.'

The Bake-Off Judge Who Takes No Prisoners

If you've ever wondered who decides which Victoria sponge reigns supreme, that's Brian Okafor — retired postman, keen baker himself, and the village's unofficial bake-off adjudicator for over a decade.

'I take it seriously,' he admits, 'but I'm fair. I've tasted some spectacular disasters. One year somebody entered a lemon drizzle that had, and I say this with love, the structural integrity of a brick. Lovely flavour though.'

Brian's top tip for future entrants? 'Read the category. We once had a magnificent loaf entered into the scones class. Gorgeous bread. Wrong category. Heartbreaking.'

Counting Pennies and Making Friends

Youngest of our trio — though she bristles at the suggestion — is Pat Ryder, who joined the volunteer rota after retiring from the school office fifteen years ago. She handles the money side of things: floats, takings, and the annual tombola ticket count that can take the best part of an evening.

'It's tedious and wonderful in equal measure,' she says. 'You sit with two or three other volunteers, sorting tickets, and by the end you know everyone's grandchildren's names.'

Pat's funniest moment? 'A gentleman once bought forty pounds' worth of tombola tickets and won a tin of soup. He was delighted. Genuinely delighted. Said it was the best soup he'd ever had. We never found out which brand it was.'

Why They'd Love You to Join

All three are emphatic on one point: new helpers are always, always welcome. There's no long-term commitment required — an hour on a stall, a morning of setting up, or just a willingness to be handed a clipboard.

'It's the easiest way to feel part of the village,' says Margaret. 'You turn up as a stranger, you leave knowing half the street.'

Brian puts it more simply: 'If you enjoy the events, come and help make them. It's the same cake, but you get to eat it earlier.'

If you fancy lending a hand at an upcoming market or fête, keep an eye on the Events Calendar — most listings include contact details for the organising team. They'll be chuffed to hear from you. Just maybe don't enter the scones category with a loaf.