Sunday, 14 December 2014

The big wheel and eternal lure of the fairground.

There's something about the fairground.
Daytime, dusk or night, scratch below the grime and tackiness and there's a magical quality.

As a child it was special.
The smell of the candyfloss we were never allowed, the rationed rides... the imagery.

As a teenager it acquired a dangerous edge, with a magic all of its own.
The first time I went on the big wheel my bag was open, spraying change like confetti onto the people below.

On SdotYam it symbolised 50 years of independence.
I still remember the sheer terror of being unceremoniously shoved off the laundry roof on a zipline.
And this time there was unlimited candyfloss. 
Alongside unlimited jugs of wine.

SdotYam, 1990.
Willie and Victor.

With a small child it was always the ghost train and carousel, and as the mother of a grown up son I  find myself drawn back to the strong imagery of the big wheel.


Now, I like the fairground as it's just waking up, and prefer my photos devoid of people cluttering up the foreground!

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