Transcript: Stow Fair Podcast Transcript
Stow Fair Podcast Transcript podcast
Stow Fair Podcast Transcript
A description of Stow Fair, by the late author, Jeremy Sandford. By kind permission of Mrs Sandford.
Taken from Songs from the Roadside-Songs sung by Romani Gypsies in the West Midlands. 1995
[Jeremy Sandford:]
Stow Fair, the most accessible for our West Midlands Gypsies of all the horse fairs, which are so popular as places to meet, swap news, sing songs, do a few deals, discover a long lost relative or find a bride.
Founded hundreds of years ago, Gypsies in their thousands come here to bring their flash, chrome-plated caravans and quite a few meticulously decorated horse-drawn ones, race down the roads in their stylish trotting gigs behind exuberant coloured horses who appear to be loving every minute of it, or stock up on candlewick cushions, tapestry representations of horses, cut glass, expensive china statues.
[A Gypsy Sings]
We fell in love on the night we met
You touched my hand
My heart went pop
And ooh when we kissed
I could not stop
You walked out of my dreams
And into my arms
Now you’re my angel divine
You’re 16, you’re beautiful
and you’re mine
[Jeremy Sandford:]
The pub, The Bell, is packed and outside it I join this group of Gypsy singers, twenty of them standing round in a circle. Like everyone here, they’re dressed up to the nines, the men in shirts, so bright, they shine. Women showing quite a lot of bosom and above all, bare midriff, recalling the Asian sub-continent from which their ancestors came long ago.
[A Gypsy Sings]
I had me a woman, who couldn’t be true
She met me for my money and she made me blue
A man needs a woman that he can lean on
and my leaning post has done and left and gone.
She’s long gone and now I’m lonesome blues
She told me on a Sunday...
[Jeremy Sandford:]
And so, twice a year, the antique shop owners of this mellow, honey-coloured town of Stow-on-the-Wold in Gloucestershire, are shaken out of their complacent dream, that takes place amongst the antique furniture or rural painting, behind their plate glass windows and by what a festivity!
The streets are crammed with folk, the women dressed with such care and exoticism, that the initial feeling is that they’re on their way to a ball; a ball at midday.
There is a fair display of the gold that worldwide is so important to Gypsies. Multiple gold chains and talismanic ornaments, hang round their honey-coloured shoulders. Or the clothes themselves are sewn or shot through with sequins on gold thread. Some women wear their hair up in a beehive. Traditionally, Gypsy women do not show their legs, but some here wear lace or hoisted up skirts, showing hot pants or a delicious, long length of ivory thigh underneath.
The men, casually dressed, chunky sweaters over shirts sometimes unbuttoned far down the chest, baggy trousers, expensive fancy leather shoes, looking as is none less than the case, that at any moment they must be ready to jump on a horse.
And the many coloured horses, piebald and skewbald, look around from the stakes and hedges to which they are tethered with a wise tolerance. They’ve seen it all before...
Go to top