|
|
THE SHOW THAT NEVER WASOnce again the club members set out on their annual LSD sponsored jaunt to the fantasy fair. The day dawned bright and clear, everyone was ready on time and the roads were clear of lorries, tractors and caravans. We all remarked on the absence of roadworks and were surprised that a lorry had not turned over on the Thetford bypass. The venue was well signposted and the large free car park had plenty of space. We searched for the section with potholes and broken bottles (the area where we normally park as its a nice long walk from the hall) but had to settle for a well maintained area a stones throw from the entrance (we know it was that far because we tested it). We were sure that we had either the wrong entrance or the wrong day because the queue stretched for inches. We had brought the usual wad of money in large denominations to pass to the smiling and attentive door persons but had to settle for a free admission, as one wag said "you'd never pay to get into Harrods, so why here?" The hall was well laid out but we found it difficult to navigate as the plan handed out on the door bore some resemblance to the stall layout. The absence of crowds was also a problem and I often found myself with nowhere to stick my elbows. I did loudly complain at several times at the bring-and-buy, but no sweaty biker or anorak-wearing advert for Clearasil would share their BO with me. This, of course, brings me to the bring-and-buy; the favourite of many show attendees (I know that it is mine). I had brought my carbon paper for the four copies of the booking in form and my passport for proof of identity but neither was needed. I looked for the Serbo-Croat instructions on the booking in form but had to make do with an inefficient old-fashioned method involving cloakroom tickets. Several old pals and their bargains were unable to attend: the sideboard full of figures, the games collection on a pallet truck, the box full of hand-crafted sprue models (individually priced), the wonderful collection of magic cards that comes with a mortgage application, the broken figures with the price tag borrowed from a bullion dealer and the bloke with handfuls of figures but no boxes and who would like the bring and buy to price them, display them on the front and send the money to him in Ulan Bator as he has an early train to catch (unfortunately not stopping at reality). This year the bar was not hidden and we missed the exercise of carrying our lead filled bags up and down 15 flights of stairs and across a footbridge. But we had to complain about the beer as it was tasty and reasonably priced - we missed the traditional warm cat's pee that is normally served. We even had cause to complain about the food - for a start it was available; we had been looking forward to the arrival of a burger wagon around 12.30 (departing at 12.32). Not only was there a choice (some of it not even including chips - how ridiculous!) but the food was served hot hence spoiling the taste. There was a surprising variety of trade stalls with many reasonably priced figures and it was good to see manufacturers moving away from bags of figures to selling individual castings. Some prices had even gone down! The manufacturers seemed genuinely interested in making new figures and several expressed interest in developing new ranges of colonial Eskimos and Hungarian motorbikes. There did seem to be a shortage of stalls selling painted figures rescued from car boot sales though and the number of terrain stalls also seemed down. The games on display were very well done with many participation games that were fun and quick to play. We had hoped to get involved in the 1mm refight of Stalingrad (as seen at other shows) but it was not to be seen. Instead there was just some silliness involving Daleks, balloons and the like. Outside the reinactment societies were putting on some marvellous displays which were tragedly marred when an accidental discharge of a replica cannon dismembered several members of the Dark Ages society. One of their members, still in character, went berserk and HAD to be pulled, still foaming at the mouth, from the throat of Ian Dickie. But this did not spoil our day out and we left carrying many well considered purchases and some bargains from the bring-and-buy. We still had some cash left as we'd managed to sell all that we had put on the bring-and-buy so we decided to stop a little chef on the way home. Bottomless teapots were back on the menu and the meal was cheap and quickly served. The journey home was quick and uneventful. To cap it all, when I got home the wife was waiting for me in some attractive lingerie and had cooked me my favourite tea. Same again next year? |