Giant inflatable celebrates 25 years of, erm, something...

We joined the throng beneath the Humber Bridge. A disappointing lack of anything to shout about, really. As I previously pointed out, all the good stuff was taking place on the south bank, which cynics could suggest was a good way of maximising toll fees, although we could always have walked across for free. But, instead, we chose to avoid paying for entertainment to mingle amongst the bare-chested, white-trainered young men, who had put aside their cans of Kestrel to drink from plastic cups for the day, and, after paying top dollar for some decidedly average burgers, we walked around the 'entertainment arena', eyed up the sponsors' banners, bouncy castles, lots of military stands and a tent suggesting we "learn to scuba dive with us", then, after three of our party had done three laps of an assault course, bade a hasty retreat. As we were walking back to the car my daughter informed me that, as she received her sticker for completing said assault course, she was the victim of sexism. Apparently, the member of the armed forces in charge of this complex military exercise congratulated young men before reinforcing what all this was about by telling them to "be a soldier". When it came to my daughter he suggested she "be a secretary". Thankfully, she had a witty pacifist's riposte at her disposal: "I told him I'd rather do the writing than the fighting".