Monday, August 6
Gyppos, steam buses and dirty 99s
I had vivid flashbacks to my youth when we'd hang around Barnet fair (yes, hair) picking up bullet casings from the duck shoot and avoiding the dead-eyed stares of the gypsy kids who were always taller, tougher, rangier and more nuggety than us suburban schoolboys.
The whole mixed vibe of raucous fun and potential grief is one that still gets the adrenaline flowing. You're so overhwhelmed by the crashing noise of the waltzers and steam whistles that you almost forget to watch out for the ferals trying to pick your pockets.
All the traction engine drivers looked like Dick Van Dyke out of Chitty Bang Bang and all the youths like extras from a Rubberbandits video.
My kids had had enough of the sensory overload after a couple of hours so I didn't get to see the old bikes. Never mind... next year.