He didn't get where he is today by stealing somebody else's catchphrase.

Steeped In Tradition

With summer behind us and the nights drawing in, it's that time of year where we start getting a bit miserable and reach for the Domestos. As luck would have it though, in my local area we have something called the Fayre, which is an attempt to bring us out of our gloom and be happy - or alternatively, get pissed, eat too much and vomit whilst riding poorly constructed fairground rides.

On the second Wednesday of each October, we have the Goose Fayre, an event that renders all the main streets in Tavistock to be closed off to traffic, much to the annoyance of local residents, who are urged to park in Croydon to avoid any inconvenience - one can't get in the way of tradition, y'know. People say the event dates back to at least 1990. Village elders hint at even earlier beginnings.

Of course, such a traditional Fayre, complete with market stalls and all wouldn't be the same without, well, traditional fare. If one searches hard enough, olde goose rolls can be found, replete with snout hoof beak - a steal at just a fiver a throw. Soak up that atmosphere whilst you're served it up by a surly Essex boy in a mobile greasy spoon.

With such an event having traditional roots, it's no surprise to see that the contents of the market stalls haven't changed over the years. Inflatable hammers, Tammy Wynette tapes and flashing mobile phone charms are all yours for the taking - it's no surprise that Fayre-goers come back year after year to take advantage of the bargains. In fact, the greatest bargain of all (three boxes of cling-film for a fiver) was the original celebratory reason for starting the event back in 1981, when cling-film's invention allowed the residents of Tavistock to preserve their beloved dead geese through the long, cold winter.

But now, it's past midnight and things are winding down. It's over for another year. The cleaners are out, shovelling up the vomit, beaks and hammers so that the town can return to it's normal self the following day.

Isn't tradition great?
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