An unprecedented number of Cider Review contributors convened at the Ross-on-Wye Festival this year, and I think it’s fair to say it was an edition that will stay with us for a long, long time.

Last year Jack, James and I wrote up our thoughts on ‘Ross Fest 2022‘ and thanks to Jack’s organisation, the CR collective has done the same again. All are posted below, with thanks to Ed, Jack, Barry, Helen and James for the beautiful words and pictures.

Ed

I’d not been to the festival since 2019 due to kids and Covid but during that time I’d met a lot of people via twitter and at online cider clubs. Heading back to the festival this year meant finally getting to meet you all in person but there was also a very different vibe due to having the kids in tow.

Cider club kicked things off on the Thursday evening with Albert Johnson giving us a thorough run down of their 8 new releases. Personal favourites were the Foxwhelp C1, Shall We Take A Walk Through Time? (beautiful art work) & the Yarlington Mill. I’m undecided on the latest Raison – don’t get me wrong, it’s an INCREDIBLE cider but I missed the smokiness of older iterations in this latest release.

Friday brought sunshine and Cider makers & Cider Drinkers Bottle Share. We took some of our back garden creations along. The top barn was alive with enthusiastic chat, new makers looking for tips and tricks and old hands sharing wisdom and providing some very welcome encouragement. I didn’t get to try everything on offer that afternoon but what I did get was a huge amount of feedback, mostly positive but all constructive. If you have sharing anxiety rest assured everyone is lovely and no one is going to tell you that what you’ve made or brought along to share is rubbish.

Saturday was mainly taken up with joy of digging in the dirt with my 4 year old but occasional breaks allowed for chats with John Edwards (Fly be Night Cider), Lydia and Tom of Artistraw, Sam & Max of Nightingale and several more. 

A mid afternoon walk into the perry orchard for an impromptu bottle share with new and old friends really rounded off the day. 

Glorious sunshine, beautiful cider, wonderful people and the superb organisation / hosting of Albert, Becky, Mike (and all of the superb volunteer team) made for an excellent weekend. 

Looking forward to seeing you all there again next year.

Jack

Back to a sold out, full capacity Ross Fest. Back to a version of reality in 2023 that heightens the senses, makes you aware of the passing of one season to the next, and serves up some damn good cider and perry. I swapped the tent for the back of a van this year, meaning I could stretch my legs out at night. Moonlit walks back to the van after an evening volunteering on the bar are etched in my mind. I ended up on the fringe of the Foxwhelp orchard for my final night. This particular night had the least cloud cover and subsequently the strongest moonlight. If moonbathing in an orchard is a thing, sign me up. The sound of conversation, laughter, and the occasional snoring from down the rows of Foxwhelp trees bordering my camping spot lulled me to sleep in the early hours. It all felt very elemental – a bit like I was pitching up for a real-life evening in Skyrim or Zelda. That this patch of orchard in Herefordshire is reality and those two games are fantasy is a distinction I feel I need to embrace further in life with much more orchard camping.

To the daytime and the events! I loved the pacing of the Cider Club on opening night – 8 new Ross-on-Wye releases in 750ml bottles to share with some delicious cheese and nibbles from Hancocks Meadow Farm. This worked even better than last year as time was given to the new releases from the festival hosts, which definitely translated into more bar sales for these new releases. I served one chap 3 bottles of Handsome Norman in a go – it was “just his absolute favourite cider of the festival”. My favourite was the perfectly balanced Thorn, Flakey and Friends perry – with its beginning, middle, and end as Albert described to us. Perhaps on years where there is a guest cidermaker presenting at Cider Club (and I really love this too as a way to experience new cidermakers from all around the globe), another tasting event on the Friday could take place introducing Ross’s new releases too?

The Waterford Whisky and Ross-on-Wye Cider tasting on the Friday, outside the Top Barn, in the shade of the ivy-clad wall that faces the Perry Pear orchard was also fantastic. I’ve not done a tasting before where you work your way through 5 single malts (Irish) and then pivot to cider. Albert and Adam conducted this to the highest standard, interweaving a sense of terroir and exploration of old varieties of barley and apples, finding their space in the drinks market of 2023. Measures were a decent size and water was on hand for anyone wishing to dilute down the 50%abv whisky or re-hydrate as the tasting went on. There was something very poignant about seeing Albert and Adam’s family in the tasting too – we’re not all lucky enough to have our family members with us into adult life. I bet they were proud of their sons in drinks educator roles for this particular session.

Finally, the social element. Be it behind the bar serving alongside some awesome fellow volunteers, up in the Perry Pear orchard sharing numerous bottles of cider and perry with folk from all over the world, or in-between the two cider barns propping up alongside a whisky barrel or at a table – this festival truly brings many likeminded people together for a long weekend, bridging the digital networks we have established and maintained over the last few years, and effortlessly transporting us all into a friendly, physical space. How Albert and his team managed to move all the stock from the Lower Barn into the Top Barn and still have space for us to serve is a marvel. And all of this just before harvest kicks off proper at Broome Farm. Here’s to the Ross-on-Wye Cider & Perry Festival 2023 and for many more to come!

Barry

A little bit of context first if I may. A few years ago, during lockdown, I went against my natural shyness and asked to join an online chat that was set up by Duckchicken cider. It was a time when I was only selling cider for just over a year, and being where I am, feeling quite far from any centre of cider. It was through that semi-regular Saturday chat session that I got to know James and Colleen of Duckchicken of course, but also Susie and Chris from Fram Ferment, Durham, Albert from Ross, Cath and Dick from Manchester, Sarah Dunn of CAMRA and @hopandwedge fame, Sam Nightingale and a few other cidermakers on occasion. Once, a chap called Adam Wells who was getting famous for his cider writings joined.

This informal group set me up with the beginning of a network of contacts in the UK that kind of cemented the direction I was going in. Once lockdown ended, those online chats became less regular and eventually stopped, and while I still maintained the connections, much of the immediateness of the feeling of contact via conference calls was lost. It was with a little envy I would see reports of events in the UK that were difficult for me to join, and Ross Fest was certainly one of them!

Last year fell through for me for work-related reasons, but this year I was determined to get there. And my goodness, was I glad I made it. The immediate reward was of course meeting people I had grown to call friends despite having never met in person. Seeing Adam, Albert, Susie and Chris on the first day was as natural feeling as it should be. But it ended up being much more than that. Throughout the festival there was such an open, easy feeling, and the willingness, nay, the compulsion for people to chat in detail about cider and perry, and all sorts of other shit, made it very easy for this relatively quiet newcomer to feel welcome. As a cider (and beer) drinker, it was a warm and welcoming environment to be in, and I feel I’ve made some really nice new friends. As a cider and perry maker, it was so much more, as being able to chat with my peers (or betters), especially those with whom I’ve only had cursory online contact with over the past few years, made me feel really a part of a wonderful community that really does span continents. Though maybe we all need to work on that a little more.

But even more than that, being able to connect with some of the veterans who do not have an online presence but have decades of work behind them was especially pleasurable. I was honoured to meet and chat with Albert’s father Mike, and Ross’s cidermaker John. Those quiet-spoken folk on whose shoulders we stand.

I won’t go on about the fantastic drinks at the Ross Festival. There will be, and indeed have been, far more eloquent reports than I could muster. But I had some truly epic drinks, especially the new Ross perries, and thanks to Chris and Susie, a jaunt out to Little Pomona also gave me a real side treat trying some of their forthcoming releases, and their stunning recent still perry. When you are in what even I consider to be a spiritual heartland of cider, it’s good to try and get in as much as you can, and Jack bringing me to the National Perry Pear Centre in Hartpury was a very special treat for a pear geek like me.

So, thank you to the Johnson family, and the army of helpers and volunteers who have been running this festival, evolving it, over so many years. With generous hospitality, you’ve made a wonderful space for cider and perry lovers, and I’d love to return.

Helen

I’m not a big camper. As a rule I try to avoid festivals, or any large gatherings. But I’ll always make an exception when it comes to Ross Cider Festival. 

I attend to spend time with friends who are dear. I attend to meet and speak with drinks peers from all around the world. I attend in an attempt to be useful to the Johnson family, and repay them for their ongoing warm and welcoming hospitality, by putting my bartending skills to good use on the cider bar. 

This year I attended for a (not so) secret fourth reason. 

When Adam Wells got his perry book pitch approved by CAMRA, he got in touch to ask if I would be interested in being the lead photographer on his book. I immediately said yes. Aside from the opportunity to have my work published, I was immediately excited to get to work with someone who has been a solid friend now for almost three years. 

I first met Adam in 2020, around the time the festival would have taken place if it hadn’t had to be cancelled that year. A cautious gathering between lockdowns, made up of a small group of cider makers, writers, and advocates. So much has changed in three years, not just the festival which has obviously regrown since the pandemic. 

Our first meeting was strange, we had initially been in a group conversation but one bar trip, and another poorly timed toilet trip left us alone. His eyes immediately darted around the room, trying to work out how to make an escape from a potentially awkward interaction that hadn’t yet begun. Before I even had a chance to speak, he bolted, making the cartoon character Road Runner look slow. I never took this interaction personally, and we have laughed about it since. Anxiety can spot anxiety from a mile away, besides I knew I’d get to speak to him again, I felt pretty determined we could be friends. 

I thought about this interaction last Saturday at the festival while we were both walking through Dollys Meadow, taking pictures of the pears, of the trees. Listening to him confidently monologuing about perry, laughing about drunken interactions from the night before. 

I spent the rest of the festival trying to capture on camera the sheer joy of sharing cider and perry, between old acquaintances and new. Broome Farm is a place where seeds are sown, and trees bloom. I can’t think of a better place to celebrate the beginning of harvest. 

James

On a cold June afternoon back in 2018 I had my first visit to Broome Farm. I’d never tasted many of the apple and pear varieties they introduced me to on that day before and some I’ve never tasted anything like them since (lemon meringue Brown Snout for one). I’d also not met anyone quite so friendly, welcoming and generous with their time as Mike, Albert and John. Over the years since I have been back many times, including having the full pressing and blending experience and I have learnt so much, I honestly cannot overstate how much they have inspired, influenced and informed ( I love alliteration) my cider journey. So this year as I made my fourth pilgrimage to the spiritual home of UK cider, but this time as a stall holder, there was an overwhelming cathartic feeling of coming full circle.

You could be forgiven for thinking that being a small festival it is all full of dry cider loving fans, however the opposite is true, many come for the wonderful atmosphere, excellent food offerings, outstanding music and to have their horizons broadened. What better way to do that than through including a number of other cider makers at the festival. I think it tells you everything you need to know about the Johnsons that they are so proactive in supporting other new and also well-established makers. Standing in the barn, selling next to Gregg’s Pit and John Edwards, looking across at Nightingale and Bartestree Cider, it would be expected for a certain level of nervousness and imposter syndrome. But the fact is that I knew many of the other makers in the room, their friendship and the fostering community that exists meant that I felt supported and invigorated to be there. Given that Chapel Sider was only launched in January and this was our first festival I feel immensely grateful to be part of such a community with Ross-on-Wye Cider and Perry being the spearhead  of inclusivity.

As we drove down to the barn on the Saturday morning to set up we were immediately helped by Dave from Bartestree Cider who carried boxes to our stall. Along with his wife Fiona this was their last festival, in fact their last event ever as they retire from cider making. A very bittersweet day as their influence is also far reaching, in fact a short conversation with them three festivals ago had a big influence on the make up of my blends going forwards. The fact they sold out first is a huge testament to the amazing ciders and perries they created. They have been highlighted on Cider Review several times in the past and I think all those involved with CR will join me in wishing them all the best as they move on to different interests.

Reflecting on the weekend afterwards, I can’t help but feel fortunate to have been able to have our first festival experience at such an event. Yes there were screwed up faces of those who “like it dry, but not that dry” and there were several requests for something on the sweeter end, which unfortunately we don’t have. However, there were many delighted smiles and “oooh that’s nice”, there were lots of questions about how we make our cider, what flavours come through and genuine interest in the difference between all the ciders we had on offer. I know we’re unlikely to get such a receptive and engaging audience at any other event, and so our day selling in the barn will stick in my mind as vividly as my first visit. Further highlights for me would be, firstly the amazing weather, the sun always shines at Ross Fest. Secondly the really excellent and varied music which caters for all tastes and dancing abilities (hope nobody got footage of my Friday night shape throwing). Thirdly the opportunity to start each morning with a family walk around the orchards and lastly the many friends new and old that I shared some wonderful ciders with. Can’t wait for next year.

Adam

So Ross Fest has come and gone for another year, and everything that I wrote about it last September is still true. It remains an oasis of unfiltered joy in my year; a few days that feel sun-filled irrespective of the turns the weather takes. The bottle-shares and tastings, the quiet walks through less-populated orchards, the dancing and chatting and cider and perry, the food and laughter and the soft conversations that often deepen with the shadows. The friends I look forward for a year to meeting here, and the new friends I make with every vintage. The mist that festoons the orchard as you crawl from your tent in the morning and the blaze of the milky way above as you totter back last thing. There’s nothing like it, and the weekend after the August bank holiday is already ring-fenced in my calendar for next year and every year to come.

But what Ross Fest really made me think about this year was belonging.

The desire to belong is, I think, among the most fundamental of human feelings. And although I come from immense privilege by every possible measure, for most of my life before adulthood I seldom, in honesty, fit in. To this day meeting new people — particularly new groups — is a source of intense anxiety and, occasionally, panic, and I know that as a result I come across as at best standoffish, and at worse downright rude. (With apologies again to Helen).

I thought about groups and belonging on Saturday this year, as the handful of us that had pottered over to an unofficial bottle share in the Perry Pear orchard spiralled into over thirty people, not one of whom had met everyone else there before; most of whom aren’t professionally involved with cider or active participants in online cider discourse. Some of whom hadn’t tried full juice cider at all before they first came to Ross Fest. All passing around bottles, all sharing conversation — some about cider but mostly just general chitchat under the shade of the Red Pears and the Hellen’s Early (I’ve finally learned the varieties in the Perry Pear orchard — apologies to Barry who I greatly disappointed when we walked it!)

I thought about it again as I looked down the aisle of picnic tables between the two barns, seeing what people were drinking and how they were drinking it. I said it last year, but one of the joys of Ross fest is not just the huge selection of 750ml bottles and 500mls and keg conditioneds and draughts, but the fact that all are presented side by side in perfect condition, and that all feel perfectly natural. That there is space as well for the American mistelle, the German perry, the Swedish co-ferment, the dry French pét nat. That there is a place for every serving and style of cider and that sometimes that place can be exactly the same one. The 750 split between a group, the half pint of conditioned Winnal’s Longdon on a wander over to Gammeoolands (whose spelling changes every time I ask), the draught sipped in the sunshine as we talk about nothing and everything and think how remarkably lucky we are that Ross Fest exists and that we are there at it together. Every style and presentation side by side. Belonging.

Aspirational cider, as one of its foremost champions remarked to me at the end of the festival, is now a mature revolution. But for it to continue, it must create spaces in which everyone knows they belong. Whoever they are, whatever their experiences with cider and perry, however they prefer to drink them. We must meet new people and go to new places; our bottleshares must grow and we must continue shuffling round so that new drinkers can join the widening circle. At Ross Fest, perhaps more than anywhere else in the world, I have found a place in which I feel a sense of true belonging. I hope that cider and perry continues to extend that privilege to whoever comes across them. 

An extra thanks to Nicky and Caroline for a couple of the photos in Adam’s section.