As soon as we entered, our senses were assaulted with booming music by Eminem and his ilk, or Enema Man and Snoopy Snoopy Poop Dog, as Alan Simpson would have it. Gotta love the man.
The artificial thunder may have been the only thing that could muffle the screams of hormonal teens, flung around on what seemed like miles of towering thrill rides. And the crowd went on and on and on. We were both shocked and stunned by the sensory attack. With all due respect, I wondered whether this is some sort of desperately-needed release of angst for bored, rural kids. That's just fine for them, but it's not one that we were particularly seeking out.
And the food! The quest for something we could eat was a long one.
And on we rushed into quieter sections of the fair...