If you want to see Windmill Hill at its peak, come for the Summer Fair. It’s a glorious mess of tombolas, face painting, and a coconut shy that hasn’t been updated since the 70s.
They do a Christmas party that somehow manages to be both chaotic and cozy. One year, the karaoke machine caught fire. Nobody left. They just sang “Wonderwall” without it. That’s dedication.
And the quiz nights? Oh, the quiz nights. They are fiercely competitive. I’ve seen friendships end over a question about the capital of Bolivia. It’s serious business here.
