Saturated colors, fried food aroma, and air daunting rides are vivid images of what a fair is all about for this American noia living in Barcelona. My older germana and I attended the Orange County Fair last week on a day with cloud splattered skies and cool temperatures. In my opinion the fair was big compared to the mini firas I attend back home in Barcelona. According to my sister, the Orange County Fair was molt petit compared to the Pomona Fair she attends in September on three different occasions just to go through the entire fair! She has no idea what a small fair is until she has attended one in Barcelona. I haven't attended a fair in Barcelona that rivals the typical American fair or carnival.
Back when I was a younger noia I dared go on rides that swooshed me side to side, upside down and twirled me endlessly until I could no longer scream. I would get off the rides dizzy and woozy, but giddy with glee for withstanding the hammer or the octopus ride.
This mature noia now watches from afar and contemplates nois and noias cridar. Do not feel sorry for this coward older noia for no longer delighting in vomit inducing rides. My carnival inclination is now food loaded with everything the doctor tells you not to eat or you'll get diabetes. An example of this newfound interest is the funnel cake, layered with strawberries, loads of powdered sugar, and heaps of whip cream. Yum. How I miss American fairs. Que farem? I suppose the answer to that is to return in the summer time and attend the OC fair for its artery clogging foods.
|Funnel cake, que bo!|