To contrast with all that fine art and fine food, I now give you a dizzy rainbow of neon lights, the smell of fryery, the crunch of sweet popcorn, and a cacophony of tinny music blended with the bellowing calls of carnies.
I can't remember the last time I went to a carnival, but they are all quite the same aren't they? Grease in different disguises in different countries perhaps, but one can always rely on finding a form of fried dough, whether it's a churro or funnelcake. I find that oddly comforting.
