Here comes the bride

Adrenaline-filled hunting hen dos aren’t for the fainthearted. Saskia Campbell talks to brides who braved one

- Saskia Campbell

IF you’re a maid of honour tasked with organising a one-of-a-kind bachelorette weekend here in Blighty, your choices can feel quite limited, even more so now Covid-19 has risen its head.

We can no longer head up north to Liverpool or descend into the streets of London en masse for a weekend of 24-hour clubs, doner kebabs and sticky dance floors, and chances are the local malestripper service won’t be able to navigate a socially distanced lap dance for the bride in question.

All may not be lost, though, if your “hen” has hunting blood coursing through her veins. Foregoing phallic memorabilia, UK party towns and strippers in favour of galloping across the countryside on a “hunting hen” could end up being the best decision you make.

Rachael Horton-Pyle did exactly that last season when she headed to Ireland, flanked by her horse-loving nearest and dearest.

“We’d always said as a group how much we had wanted to experience hunting in Ireland, and I knew that unless I gave us a reason to go, it would always be one of those things we’d never get around to doing,” she says.

Shunning the traditional all-girls guest list seems to be a common theme with hunting hen dos. Charlotte Morphet, who also took on Irish hunting country for her pre-wedding party, headed off to Galway with an entourage of nine. The selected included “Bridesmaid Mark”, Charlotte’s Pony Club best friend, who wasn’t going to let a small thing like gender get in the way of him and a great night out.

“He just comes with the team,” says Charlotte.

Being slightly out of the ordinary, if you go for a hunting hen party, expect your guest list to snowball.