You might sit there for the first 10 mins feeling superior but it doesn’t take long before the fouth wall has collapsed and you realise anew what a magical event it is.
I’ve been going along for more years than I can remember and I can assure you that without fail by the interval, all affectation, all irritation with the body heat of your neighbour stealing the arm rest, the guy clearing his lungs and the childish banter behind you, will have dropped away and you will be clapping along with the best of them.
There is just something so honest and comforting about it all. The performers always put their all into it, the routines and jokes are timeless- sometimes cheesy allowed to be risque even nowadays and I always always feel grateful just to be there.
Some years you are rocked around in ya seat by storms; others like tonight, after a day of sweltering heat, you leave the sweaty auditorium and are treated to sea mists rolling over the pier. Some years we’ve had trouble standing upright (high winds not drink) and one memorable year there was a black out and Do Not Leave the Pier during the interval (which I was convinced was part of the act until I found out the next day was due to the aggressive traveller invasion of Cromer. I remember being so confused why every single bar, shop and home had curtains firmly closed and lights off as we walked back to the tent in the eerie stillness)
So tonight, I did indeed, as always, happily, simply love it.
