We all know that the people of Nottingham do not know how to complain. Actually that’s not strictly true, they know how to complain to each other about injustice, but are no good when it comes to doing anything about it. This teatime saw the opening of Goose Fair, the highlight of the Nottingham calendar in which every single person who lives in the city attends, or at least should do. Nottingham gets so many things wrong that we should appreciate it when something as good as Goose Fair happens. Admittedly, the council should keep their noses out and allow the fairground people to get on with it, but apart from the occasional ‘health and safety’ abomination, the fair is a delight. It could have been so different though, as this could have been the year that brought a 719 year old tradition to an end.

Last year, Nottingham residents were shocked to the very core at a move that went against tradition. Known to residents as ‘mushy pea-gate', it cast a shadow over the enjoyment of the five day event. Before I go on, I should do my once a year disclaimer for the benefit of those reading this that don’t live in Nottingham. We don’t just eat mushy peas and mint sauce on Bonfire Night here, they are considered a delicacy. There is a mushy pea stall in the Victoria Centre which does a good trade all year round, and of course they enjoy a close association with Goose Fair. As I have said before, there really is only one place to buy mushy peas at the fair, and everybody knows it.

Leaving aside the fact that they can’t spell the word ‘additives’, this stall is something of an icon in Nottingham and stands alongside Raleigh bikes, John Player, and even good old Robin Hood as a true iconic symbol of this great city.. I’m sure I don’t need to go over the details of mushy pea-gate again, you can find it in the list of tags underneath the blog, and read all about it yourself.

There has been an event on Facebook (remember Facebook? It’s making an inexplicable comeback) event for a number of weeks now, inviting people to turn up at the mushy pea stall at exactly half past five to see if they had seen sense. I turned up with my dad, (Mandi had no interest in going, but as she isn’t from Nottingham I can forgive her) and was saddened but not surprised to see that there wasn’t a crowd gathering. The Nottingham Evening Post (as I still call it) and BBC Radio Nottingham had been informed, but they didn’t bother sending the reporters down to report on the mushy pea-gate developments. This half-arsed attitude sums Nottingham up; if the stall had decided to stay with the squirty bottles, it would have torn Goose Fair apart, but nobody wants to roll their sleeves up and get involved on the frontline. It was left to me to go and see if order had been restored. I imagine that the rest of the fair had already been informed of the good news, simply because they had gone to the trouble of erecting the fair. They must have asked the stallholders which way they were going on the mint sauce; because it wouldn’t have been worth putting all the rides up if Goose Fair was going to close down on the first night for the first time in its history.

It was nice to share the relief of 305,700 (2011 Census figures) people when I saw that the bowl and ladle had returned. The woman serving didn’t seem to want to commit when I thanked her on behalf of Nottingham for the decision. Maybe she remembered spinning me all that bullshit last year about how people throw cigarette ends in, or maybe she just thought I was there to gloat. I wasn’t there to gloat; I was there as the figurehead of the campaign to restore order and if she wants to take the hump with me then fair enough.

Fair enough! That wasn’t even an intentional pun.

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