A walk down memory lane

When I was growing up in the rolling hills of the Yorkshire Moors a good old town fair was never far away. Some of my greatest memories of growing up include playing on the rides, trying to win a giant teddy and filling my face with sausage dogs and candy floss. So you can imagine my delight when I received a call from my sister, who very recently moved to London, late Wednesday night.

Me- Hello?
Sammy- Take tomorrow as a duvet day
Me- Oh, hey Sammy. Why?
Sammy- We're going to Winter Wonderland.
Me- Done, see you tomorrow!

My sister and I share a special love for one ride in particular, an amazing ride so simple and pure no other comes close. Our love is made all the stronger because, at around the age of 14, we saw someone get hit by one! The Waltzers. So, after filling my stomach with a smoked salmon sandwich and drinking more mulled wine than I would ever advise, we made our way towards the fairground.

£4 each later we hopped into our little cart, careful to make sure Phil, my sisters rather muscly and weighty boyfriend, was on the outside to ensure maximum spin. We sat in anticipation, handed our tickets to the ride attendant who put the bar down and waited for the inevitable evil laugh that ques the ride to start. We travel the tracks with the cars not yet spinning, desperately leaning as far as we can to try get things moving when a count down begins. 10. 9. 8. 7. 654. 3. 2...1! All at once the cars go spinning out of control. I grip onto the bar across my stomach desperately trying to pull my head forward, a game Sammy and I used to play whenever on the ride. Whilst on this ride I laugh uncontrollably, only managing to catch a breath when the car looses momentum and we bob around the track looking out onto the faces watching the ride. When we all recover from out first spin we gauge the timing, then as we ride over the top of a hill and begin the short fall the 3 of us lean as far as we can to encourage the car to spin uncontrollably yet again. I howl with laughter, my sides begin to hurt in a way that laughter can only create. Then, when I thought I couldn't take anymore, the car picked up the pace. I tried desperately to keep my head pulled forward but couldn't fight it any longer. My head was thrown backwards as I howled and screamed with delight. By now my sight was about clear as at 4am as I stumble out of Club de Fromage, blared from crying with laughter as opposed to beer goggles. I manage to peer over to my sister to discover her also crying and laughing, only she is pointing towards me!