Monday, September 8, 2014

The County Fair Experience

Something we don't have in England, which apparently happens all over America is the County Fair.  I think there are even State Fairs, but I'm not sure what the difference is - can anyone tell me?

Our local County Fair always opens on Labor Day weekend and we always manage to go that first weekend.

Now these Fairs are nothing like any fair ever in England.  They are massive and while ‘fair’ in England usually means a few rides (the Waltzer, Octopus and Big Wheel to recall a few) and some sideshows (darts, goldfish and ducks on hooks come to mind) on a muddy common in the summer, in America it means a total over indulgence of everything.  As we know, they like to do everything BIGGER here, including the Fair.
From the moment you walk through the gate your senses are assaulted from all side with smells, colours, noise….. Buildings are chockablock with people selling anything from Shamwow’s and sewing machines to solar panels and shower heads.  You name it, you can probably find it for sale here.  (In our experience some good, some, well… not so good)

It's hard to describe what it actually is - is it a market or shopping experience?

Maybe it's a circus



Maybe it's a funfair as we know it
 
Oh, no thank you!
And again I say, No thank you!
Or whatever the heck this is:
What the??
But after all that, you get to the main event, the part which everyone, apparently, is here for.  It’s a non-stop party of alcohol and food.  Yes you can walk around drinking beer and cocktails (and who wouldn’t, quite honestly).  But the biggest and some say best part of the fair is the gastronomical delight of fried food.  Absolutely anything you can think of can be, and will be, deep fried.  I heard a rumour there would be deep fried Doritos this year, but I didn’t find any.  Deep fried fried foods… wow! 
Drinkies - don't mind if I do!
Start off slowly - vegetables first (ignore the cheescake)
Bacon and more bacon - I sense a theme...
If you can leave the Fair without being sick in a bin, then you are a brilliantly fantastic person, with a stomach of iron.  I'm not saying I've ever been sick in a bin, (well not at the Fair anyway) but I have gone home with my jeans undone once or twice.


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