The Hoppings

A photograph and a few words...

In other parts of the country if the weather was bad people wouldn't come out. It's a tradition and people here will come regardless. If you're a Geordie, it's what you do.

The author Paul Lanagan speaking of The Hoppings

In a piece a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned I was to attend one of Newcastle's iconic and long-standing events. It was the 'Hoppings’. A week-long annual fair on Newcastle's Town Moor, a large public park north of the city centre. The organisers claim the Hoppings as Europe's largest Funfair, with over four hundred attractions spread over a kilometre-long strip. I can testify that it is 'fun' on a grand scale. Few such fairs need a map to tell you what is where. 

And just a mention for the Town Moor too. People who have yet to visit Newcastle may imagine an entirely urban conurbation. However, the Town Moor is larger than London's Hyde Park and Hampstead Heath combined. It's even bigger than New York's Central Park. So, the Hoppings may be extensive, but it easily fits within the Town Moor.

The Hoppings is now an integral part of the cultural fabric of Newcastle. Before 1882, many Hoppings occurred in various locations in and around the city. Even my tiny hometown of Blaydon, some three miles west of Newcastle, had its Hoppings, as did the nearby towns of Swalwell, Winlaton and Gateshead. In Victorian times, the description of a 'Hopping' was "a local term [in Durham and Northumberland] signifying a feast, merry-meeting, dancing or parish wake". However, in 1882 these small festivities came together on the Town Moor, the traditional site for festivities dating back to the 13th century. 

From 1218, the Town Moor held the annual Lammas (Loaf Mass) Fair. Lammas is the Christian celebration of the blessing in church of a loaf baked with flour from newly harvested corn. Then in 1490, came the Cow Hill Fair, the biggest fair in the north of England for selling livestock. By mid-summer 1721 came Race Week. After horse racing moved to Gosforth, north of Newcastle, following the opening of a dedicated racecourse there, the Temperance Movement took the then-vacant midsummer date for the Hoppings to provide local people, especially the pitmen, with an alternative to drinking and gambling at the horse races. 

The first Hoppings included stalls and rides but also putting the shot, running races, pole leaping, triple jump, running jump, tug-of-war, bar vaulting, bicycle races and skipping competitions for children. Alas, today's Hoppings offers none of those healthier attractions. Although there is one tradition that is still from the first event, 'Hoppings Sunday', a unique church service that brings together community members in prayer and celebration.

Today the Hoppings is undoubtedly grander than on the first visits I remember in the late 1960s. Those trips were grandson and grandfather bonding days. He loved a 'one-armed bandit' but had strict limits on expenditure. A half a crown would last the day (that would give him 30 'pulls'). Any winnings would go back into the slot, and he would continue until that original half-crown was exhausted. My limit was a shilling. Yet memory tells me that the two of us wiled away several hours, interspersing our 'pulls' with conversation, laughter, browsing the stalls and lingering over a cup of tea and a pre-prepared sandwich. 

My grandfather did have a simple 'system' to heighten our chances of winning. He'd watch people playing on a group of machines and look for one that had not paid out for a while. If the person playing then moved away, my granddad would take over. It often worked, and he'd win within a couple of pulls or so. He told me the machines were rigged … sorry, designed to pay out often enough to keep a punter's interest. But only to pay a little and not too often. The universal rule of gambling. The 'House' always wins.

Through the 1970s, other forms of entertainment and distraction became available for families and youngsters. This meant that while the Hoppings was still a significant event, it began to decline from its post-Second World War popularity. However, from what I saw on my recent visit, it has bounced back from that downturn. There was a busy, vibrant atmosphere and a wide array of rides and amusements. From classic carousels and Ferris wheels to roller coasters and adrenaline-pumping drop towers. Rides to thrill and spill you, swing and fling you, hurl and swirl you and dare and scare you. But not me. 

I don't know whether I have a keen sense of balance or imbalance, but a ride on a roundabout or roller coaster makes me nauseous. I discovered this at around age five with the gentle rotation of a carousel gaily bedecked with Disney characters. Seeing my increasingly green face, the chap running the machine brought it prematurely to a halt before Harry threw up over Mickey. So, when it comes to funfairs, my parents had an 'easy ride', if you'll pardon the pun. No tugging on their sleeves so I could jump on the next ride and the next. I was OK in the 'House of Horrors' and on the Dodgems. Things jumping out at me from the dark or swinging and swerving at speed to avoid other vehicles I could easily manage. Indeed, some who have experienced my driving skills say I could have picked them up from the Dodgems. But spinning me around or dropping me from a height is what churns my stomach. The one exception to my avoidance of such rides was in Vienna. I could not resist the Wiener Riesenrad, the Ferris Wheel that features in the movie 'The Third Man' and on which Orson Welles and Joseph Cotten play out the classic scene that ends with Welles' now famous line...

"Don't be so gloomy...After all, it's not that awful. Remember what the fellow said...in Italy, for thirty years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo – Leonardo Da Vinci, and the Renaissance...In Switzerland, they had brotherly love. They had five hundred years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce?...The cuckoo clock."

Apart from my childish desire to recreate that scene with my wife Sarah playing Joseph Cotten's role, I also knew the wheel turned incredibly slowly. And even though it's old and creaky (recognise those feelings), I could speak those lines of Welles - even though he's left the wheel when he delivers them in the film. And my photograph is of the Ferris Wheel at the Hoppings, not the Weiner Riesenrad.

Anyway, getting back to the Hoppings. Many stalls offered other games away from the rides. I saw the old favourites from decades ago, including Rifle Ranges, Donkey Derby, Throw the Hoop, Hook a Duck and Bingo. There were some true professionals on the latter running many cards. Live entertainment was also available, as was a wide variety of food.

In those days of visits with my grandfather, the food offered was only candy floss, chips, hot dogs, and burgers. Today's offering has grown to suit many palates. There are still hot dogs and burgers, of course, and chips, although now described as fries. Yet they looked the same shape and size as the standard British chip. Added to these delicacies was street food from Greece and the Middle East, as well as Indian and Chinese offerings, pizza, of course, and even a Mac' n' cheese stall. While for those with a sweet tooth, there were Churros and chocolate.

Plenty to titillate the taste buds of visitors (typically upwards of a quarter of a million over the week) as they explored and indulged in the spirit of the festivities. And since last year, there have been spirits (and beer) of the alcoholic type. That was a momentous change in tradition as the Hoppings had been 'Dry' since first held in 1882 as a Temperance Fair. However, to buy an alcoholic drink, you must also buy some food from one of the vendors. 

Despite the many attractions, sadly, no one-armed bandits were in sight. Just those flashing-lighted arcade machines hungry for your pounds these days, not your pennies. And pushing a button doesn't have the same attraction.

But why the name Hoppings? Well, those who read my piece from last week will know. For those that didn't, it's one of those northern dialect words that date back some 1500 years to the Angles' word for a fair or market.

We never use a modern word in the Northeast when an old one will do.