'EXCUSE me,' said the man who was working on the new gates at the entrance to the park. 'I am a registered stonemason.'
'I don't care if you are,' said a council worker, 'they're still crooked.' Then turning to me he said, 'Bloody 20 Grand they cost. You don't get much for that sort of money.'
It had been a day with a difference. I arrived at the coach park to find that it had been taken over by a funfair. The council's clean up team were just sweeping up the last of the broken glass and cardboard pizza boxes.
'There's been a fight down here every night, so we've had to come down and clean up each morning this week,' the council man said. 'Bloody ridiculous - it's taken an hour just to clear this little corner here.'
'Do you see that barrier, over there?' he went on.
'No,' I said.
'That's because there isn't one.' I looked again just to make sure. 'Darned joyriders. When they see the barrier down, they just crash into it and break it down.'
It wasn't all bad. The old local fairground owners had been so pleased with their cleaning that they told them to bring their wives and families and they would be given free rides. How nice it is to know that things like this still go on.
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