When I was a kid, I loved going to the fair. There were expensive games I would fail at instantly, toys my parents wouldn’t let me have, and all the cake and sweets I could scrounge before the head-rush kicked in and I started crying. Fairs are above even Christmas on the scale of things-children-think-they-like-until-they-actually-experience-them (second only to the dreaded Toys R’ Us – trust me, I used to work there).
For all the glucose crash induced misery of the fair, these events made me excited in a way that very little has the capacity to do in adult life, and I miss it. There was just such an atmosphere of fun and celebration. After the age of about 7 I don’t think anyone is that bothered to know they can have all the coke they want for a day unless they’re OK with breaking the law. And who even…
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