It’s kicking off in the Lane with no name (Lwnn). For those who don’t remember the Lane with no name is the lane that runs along the back of Gnomepants manor and connects the other 4 houses to the outside world without having to use the front steps which nobody uses which are steep. In times past it was also used as access for brewery vehicles to the Village Club but they don’t use it any more as they have better vehicles these days.
Probably the most disappointing thing about the whole thing was that we didn’t just say “No thanks” and carry on driving. In the small print of all the posters in the local shop window and the signs on the roads there was little mention of the £4 adult entry fee. So imagine my surprise on driving through the “Free Parking” gate only to be greeted by a man in combat fatigues grinning like someone about to fleece £8 off unsuspecting tourists.
Bloke – Eeh tha’ll be eight pa’and
Mrs Gnomepants – £8! We dont have enough! Sorry, can we just get out at the bottom? The sign up there said free parking we were just passing through.
Bloke – Oh well…er…well how much have you got spying the £5 note I am brandishing
stegzy – Erm £5…..
Bloke – That’ll do…
I suppose it was a lot less painful than walking through Fitzwilliam wiggling a £5 note in the air and saying “Mug me!”.
Anyway, what i thought would be an interesting collection of steam engines, memorabilia and old tractors turned out to be little more than a showcase of “vintage” cars (There was a Ford Capri there and a Mark 2 Ford Fiesta, they’re no more vintage than my piss). Still it was nice to see some old familiar vehicles in very well kept condition.
Other glorious sites included several marquees of overall suited gentlemen selling what can only be described as the contents of granddad’s shed. Rusty, old motor related things. Like Haynes manuals for Renault 5s, rusty suspension springs, bell pushers from old Atlantean Buses, pipes and things, tat, crap, Junk. No. Really….The wife’s magpie genes nearly caused us to be the proud owner of a couple of new doorbells and a door knocker until the impracticalities of having a bell push from a bus fitted to the back door (yes, we receive our guests at the BACK DOOR, want to make something of it?) and the absurdity in having house fly shaped brass ash tray as a door knocker were realised and had to be placated by a pair of gardening kneel pads for a £1.
There were other highlights. Such as when it rained and the view over to Hemsworth, South Kirkby and Brierley Gap and a couple of steam driven thingies.
This is what it sounds like in the wind.
Next to the clangy thing was another steam driven thing. This didn’t go clang. I’m sure going clang might not seem important to some people. But it is. If your machine don’t clang it ain’t worth showing.
To top the whole day off, this steam powered thing feebly spooged water out of a pipe every 30 seconds. I’m sure it had a function once. What ever that function was I have no idea. What I do know is, however, paying £5 to see all that crap instead of the £8 that I should have paid was still a down right con. Bloody farmers.
The exhibition was called the Scammel Exhibition. Scam-me-l. I should have guessed from the name.