Festival House

You know how it is: the neighbours have gotten a bit rowdy and done a bit of damage to your neighbourhood but, well, we've all got to get along together somehow ... so some six years after that party that was WW2 Hull gets round to building something permanent; Hull is so chuffed at building something permanent it puts up a plaque and the building is named after that event that forever dooms Britain: the Festival of Britain. OK enough hype; this easily missed building is the first building they built after the war and Jameson Street must have been a much bigger mess than the recent renovations ( "You don't know you've lived", I believe is the expression our parents would fling at us for being born too late to miss all that bomb damage fun. So sorry Adolph I'll catch it on Yesterday +1). May day 1951 must have been some day for Hull, the rebuild begins. There is that saying if at first you don't succeed try again and fail again, fail better; Hull has been doing that for nigh on seventy years.

Shaves and trims

I have to say if it should ever come about that I can't shave myself (not that I ever do)  or trim my own beard (again only rarely) you can take me out and shoot me. I am, perhaps, not the barber's best friend. Anyhoo this cute little sign aimed at a somewhat younger (and richer) clientèle than myself is on the way home from Hull Fair on Chanterlands Avenue.

Sugar and spice and all things nice

Hull Fair has two parts; the big expensive rides and smaller stalls where you can shoot yourself a prize or hook-a-duck and so on these are all congregated off Walton Street. On Walton Street itself there is a long line of stalls selling food, burgers, Indian take-aways, fish and chips and so on are all there for the taking but there also lots of sweet stalls selling what is essentially sugar  in various disguises. For some reason Margot took a lot pictures of these so here's her view.

Margot dared me to post this. If you want to create a space around yourself in a crowd just take out a doll and photograph it; folk steer clear for some reason, can't think why.

All the fun of the Fair ...

Early October in this town can mean only one thing: Hull Fair. Yes it's that time of year again when the air is filled with the distant rumble of machinery, extremely loud music and the faint aroma of burnt cow meat and onions wafts across from Walton Street. So here's a small selection of shots from the other night. I seem to have left my colours at home so you'll have to use your imagination...