The St Giles’ Fair is an old Oxford tradition that goes back to the 19th century, whereby a group of local fairground companies have use of one of the main streets of Oxford for the first two days in September, after St Giles Day. And the schoolchildren of Oxford can spend the last days of their school holiday being entertained in top carnie fashion.
My two daughters and I took the usual reccie this evening. Looking at the mixture of horrific sick-inducing machines and charming old kiddie fairground rides, my older daughter, 15, remarked sourly that she felt none of the usual excitement. She said the same thing at Disneyland Paris a couple of weeks ago. Yep, it happens; you grow up. But she hasn’t yet discovered how much fun St Giles’ Fair is when you visit in the evening and slightly tipsy. with a crowd of student pals…
Meanwhile our five-year old was cooing with delight. She wants to throw hoops around stuff and win cuddly toys, (she only has about 40 and there are places in her bedroom where you can still see the floor, so I guess that’s her rationale there…); to ride on the Waltzer under the influence of travel sickness pills, to eat huge fluffy balls of freshly spun cotton candy, hot doughnuts straight out of the oil, corn-on-the-cob roasted on a grill, to dip fudge, marshmallows and strawberries in a chocolate fountain, and then to ride the magnificent Carousel. You don’t actually get any younger, like with the one in Ray Bradbury’s novel ‘Something Wicked This way Comes’, but riding it, you might feel, for just a few moments, that you’ve turned into a little kid again.
It’s one of the great things about being a parent, living vicariously through all your children’s joyous discoveries in life. But tomorrow, after all those fairground treats and being whipped around on rides, I may need to swing by the vomitarium…
6 replies on “19th Century Tradition Rules OK”
This post particularly takes the eye, Maria, as I used to work in the fairground in South Shields in my distant youth. A bunch of us teenagers did everything from serving chips to opening up and helping on the rides. It was just on the cusp of the That’ll Be The Day era, and I only have to hear a few bars of Runaway by Del Shannon, or Rock On by David Essex, and I’m transported back to this carefree and exciting time. I witnessed air sea rescues, gang fights involving Hell’s Angels and Skinheads,and even played in a free-for-all football match in the middle of the fairground with the wild-living roustabouts who slept in tents on the beach (nope, neither Nike or Coca-Cola were involved in sponsoring this match!), and got to go on all of the rides for free. Made us all feel like Kings of the Town at the time, though I’m sure we were regarded as just ‘the kids who helped out’.
These days the fairground holds no mysteries for me, as I know (at least I did back then) what goes on behind the scenes. I only go there when it’s raining, or in the winter when they’re closed and empty. I pass through on my way to the pier, preferring to look across the sea, and across the harbour to North Shields. But it’s a popular place, with a fabulous atmosphere from Easter onwards until the end of the school holidays. I wish I could go back to that time there when I was a teenager. It’s not a time or place that I can ever forget, nor do I want to. Anyone got a time machine to spare? 🙂
You were a carnie, esruel? Eee lad, that’s quite a story. We had a great day there today. I gave the teenage lad helping out on the waltzer the old go-faster nod. Could barely walk straight when I got off! My five year-old was fine on her travel sickness pill…she was laughing.
Fairgrounds are such magical places, and even more so for children. I bet your daughter is always laughing when she goes there!
I read That’ll Be The Day before I saw the film and each is as good as the other. Ringo Starr was amazing in the film, and reminded me (though I don’t know why) of a roustabout called Pip, who had a glass eye and a scar to match around it. He had long hair past his shoulders, never wore a shirt in the fairground whatever the weather – just jeans and Doc Martins – and had a barrel-full of jokes that he really had to tell you whenever he bumped into you. And he was the best pool player in the town – I never beat him once.
Great memories.
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