Travellers.......
Discussion
CAPP0 said:
No, they absolutely are not.
I use the term travellers solely because for some unfathomable reason, I risk censure if I use the more appropriate term for them.
Yes they are... That's what they are actually called and refer to themselves as well!I use the term travellers solely because for some unfathomable reason, I risk censure if I use the more appropriate term for them.
For some odd reason people have started to call them ''travelers'' , Trust me they do not get offended if you call them what they are..
Other english people look at you weird if you use that word however...
Just some stupid stuff you have all come up with!
They are Gypsies...
bagusbagus said:
Yes they are... That's what they are actually called and refer to themselves as well!
For some odd reason people have started to call them ''travelers'' , Trust me they do not get offended if you call them what they are..
Other english people look at you weird if you use that word however...
Just some stupid stuff you have all come up with!
They are Gypsies...
They really aren't. For some odd reason people have started to call them ''travelers'' , Trust me they do not get offended if you call them what they are..
Other english people look at you weird if you use that word however...
Just some stupid stuff you have all come up with!
They are Gypsies...
It's nothing to do with offending them. It's to differentiate them from the Roma, who are actually an ethnic group.
Here we go again.
Firstly if you can prove they have committed criminal damage to access the place they can be moved on pron to. It just needs some balls from the authorities.
If no damage done, then it gets more awkward as it's "a civil matter, sir." Problem is the professional private contractors for the moving on of mathematical locksmiths is expensive. Well would you do it for beer money?
The real problem arises when it's public/ council land and no criminal damage done, because then you have to add in all the council form filling risk assessment bull effluent, are there any children, are their education / health needs catered for, all needs assessing, any ladies with child, a gazillion other right on social justice bollards.
One notes no one sees the student and lefty social justice warriors engaged on their behalf, unless there's a decent ruck with the coppers in prospect.
Firstly if you can prove they have committed criminal damage to access the place they can be moved on pron to. It just needs some balls from the authorities.
If no damage done, then it gets more awkward as it's "a civil matter, sir." Problem is the professional private contractors for the moving on of mathematical locksmiths is expensive. Well would you do it for beer money?
The real problem arises when it's public/ council land and no criminal damage done, because then you have to add in all the council form filling risk assessment bull effluent, are there any children, are their education / health needs catered for, all needs assessing, any ladies with child, a gazillion other right on social justice bollards.
One notes no one sees the student and lefty social justice warriors engaged on their behalf, unless there's a decent ruck with the coppers in prospect.
Roofless Toothless said:
I have a gypsy story, perhaps a bit different from most on here.
My mum's father was a real character, You could write a book about him. He was a Jew from Kiev and came to London in 1906, having deserted from the Russian Army. (Jews were not lasting very long at the front in the Russian Japanese war.) He tried out a lot of different ways of earning a living, but just before WWII he was doing alright, trading and renting horses in the East End. They were all stabled under the railways arches in Burdett Road.
One day a young gypsy lad came up to him and asked to rent a horse to do a job for a day. Only he didn't have any money, and could pay him only when he got paid himself in the evening. For some reason Pop liked the look of the lad and let him have a horse, and a cart too. Everybody told him he was out of his mind, that was the last he would see of the gypsy lad, his cart and the horse - but in the evening back the youngster came, paid Pop every penny and expressed great gratitude for the trust he had been shown.
From then on, lots of gypsies came to do business with Pop. He went so far as to learn a few words in their language, and bought many horses from them, not all of which were still alive the next morning, but that is another story! Eventually, he was asked if he would like to come and meet their Gypsy King at his place out in the Hornchurch/Rainham area. So Pop went, was well received, and believe it or not took part in a ceremony of blood brotherhood with the King.
Of course, everyone in the family didn't believe a word of it, and assumed that the old boy had been off again of one of his famous 'benders' - he was known to enjoy spending an entire weekend progressing down the Romford Road, pub-crawling every hostelry on the way, from Romford to Poplar. When the war was over, and Hitler had shown personal interest in Pop's progress by bombing the Burdett Road railway arches and scattering his horses all over East London, he moved out to Hoddesdon and retired on a small holding there. No more was said about gypsies.
But when he died in the early sixties, one of my uncles was intrigued to notice at the funeral two guys standing at the back, holding their caps respectfully in front of them - which is exactly what you don't do at a Jewish cemetery - and he asked politely if they knew Pop at all, as he didn't himself know who they were. They replied that they had been asked to come to represent the gypsy community, as the Gypsy King had heard that 'Jack The Jew' (as he was known) had died and he wanted to pay his respects. As Jewish funerals are traditionally held very quickly, word had obviously got around with some speed. They confirmed all that Pop had told them about his relations with the Gypsies at Rainham, and the doubters in the family were very humbled.
I enjoyed that. Thanks for posting.My mum's father was a real character, You could write a book about him. He was a Jew from Kiev and came to London in 1906, having deserted from the Russian Army. (Jews were not lasting very long at the front in the Russian Japanese war.) He tried out a lot of different ways of earning a living, but just before WWII he was doing alright, trading and renting horses in the East End. They were all stabled under the railways arches in Burdett Road.
One day a young gypsy lad came up to him and asked to rent a horse to do a job for a day. Only he didn't have any money, and could pay him only when he got paid himself in the evening. For some reason Pop liked the look of the lad and let him have a horse, and a cart too. Everybody told him he was out of his mind, that was the last he would see of the gypsy lad, his cart and the horse - but in the evening back the youngster came, paid Pop every penny and expressed great gratitude for the trust he had been shown.
From then on, lots of gypsies came to do business with Pop. He went so far as to learn a few words in their language, and bought many horses from them, not all of which were still alive the next morning, but that is another story! Eventually, he was asked if he would like to come and meet their Gypsy King at his place out in the Hornchurch/Rainham area. So Pop went, was well received, and believe it or not took part in a ceremony of blood brotherhood with the King.
Of course, everyone in the family didn't believe a word of it, and assumed that the old boy had been off again of one of his famous 'benders' - he was known to enjoy spending an entire weekend progressing down the Romford Road, pub-crawling every hostelry on the way, from Romford to Poplar. When the war was over, and Hitler had shown personal interest in Pop's progress by bombing the Burdett Road railway arches and scattering his horses all over East London, he moved out to Hoddesdon and retired on a small holding there. No more was said about gypsies.
But when he died in the early sixties, one of my uncles was intrigued to notice at the funeral two guys standing at the back, holding their caps respectfully in front of them - which is exactly what you don't do at a Jewish cemetery - and he asked politely if they knew Pop at all, as he didn't himself know who they were. They replied that they had been asked to come to represent the gypsy community, as the Gypsy King had heard that 'Jack The Jew' (as he was known) had died and he wanted to pay his respects. As Jewish funerals are traditionally held very quickly, word had obviously got around with some speed. They confirmed all that Pop had told them about his relations with the Gypsies at Rainham, and the doubters in the family were very humbled.
kitz said:
I drove down the Wilmslow to Hale road last night,
before the airport tunnels there are playing fields and I saw a flatbed truck
doing drifts on the football pitches .There were lots of caravans parked found the fields ....
I drove that way on Monday and saw the caravans, probably about 10 of them with associated vehicles. They've been on that site a few times before... .before the airport tunnels there are playing fields and I saw a flatbed truck
doing drifts on the football pitches .There were lots of caravans parked found the fields ....
probably chalk said:
Roofless Toothless said:
I have a gypsy story, perhaps a bit different from most on here.
My mum's father was a real character, You could write a book about him. He was a Jew from Kiev and came to London in 1906, having deserted from the Russian Army. (Jews were not lasting very long at the front in the Russian Japanese war.) He tried out a lot of different ways of earning a living, but just before WWII he was doing alright, trading and renting horses in the East End. They were all stabled under the railways arches in Burdett Road.
One day a young gypsy lad came up to him and asked to rent a horse to do a job for a day. Only he didn't have any money, and could pay him only when he got paid himself in the evening. For some reason Pop liked the look of the lad and let him have a horse, and a cart too. Everybody told him he was out of his mind, that was the last he would see of the gypsy lad, his cart and the horse - but in the evening back the youngster came, paid Pop every penny and expressed great gratitude for the trust he had been shown.
From then on, lots of gypsies came to do business with Pop. He went so far as to learn a few words in their language, and bought many horses from them, not all of which were still alive the next morning, but that is another story! Eventually, he was asked if he would like to come and meet their Gypsy King at his place out in the Hornchurch/Rainham area. So Pop went, was well received, and believe it or not took part in a ceremony of blood brotherhood with the King.
Of course, everyone in the family didn't believe a word of it, and assumed that the old boy had been off again of one of his famous 'benders' - he was known to enjoy spending an entire weekend progressing down the Romford Road, pub-crawling every hostelry on the way, from Romford to Poplar. When the war was over, and Hitler had shown personal interest in Pop's progress by bombing the Burdett Road railway arches and scattering his horses all over East London, he moved out to Hoddesdon and retired on a small holding there. No more was said about gypsies.
But when he died in the early sixties, one of my uncles was intrigued to notice at the funeral two guys standing at the back, holding their caps respectfully in front of them - which is exactly what you don't do at a Jewish cemetery - and he asked politely if they knew Pop at all, as he didn't himself know who they were. They replied that they had been asked to come to represent the gypsy community, as the Gypsy King had heard that 'Jack The Jew' (as he was known) had died and he wanted to pay his respects. As Jewish funerals are traditionally held very quickly, word had obviously got around with some speed. They confirmed all that Pop had told them about his relations with the Gypsies at Rainham, and the doubters in the family were very humbled.
I enjoyed that. Thanks for posting.My mum's father was a real character, You could write a book about him. He was a Jew from Kiev and came to London in 1906, having deserted from the Russian Army. (Jews were not lasting very long at the front in the Russian Japanese war.) He tried out a lot of different ways of earning a living, but just before WWII he was doing alright, trading and renting horses in the East End. They were all stabled under the railways arches in Burdett Road.
One day a young gypsy lad came up to him and asked to rent a horse to do a job for a day. Only he didn't have any money, and could pay him only when he got paid himself in the evening. For some reason Pop liked the look of the lad and let him have a horse, and a cart too. Everybody told him he was out of his mind, that was the last he would see of the gypsy lad, his cart and the horse - but in the evening back the youngster came, paid Pop every penny and expressed great gratitude for the trust he had been shown.
From then on, lots of gypsies came to do business with Pop. He went so far as to learn a few words in their language, and bought many horses from them, not all of which were still alive the next morning, but that is another story! Eventually, he was asked if he would like to come and meet their Gypsy King at his place out in the Hornchurch/Rainham area. So Pop went, was well received, and believe it or not took part in a ceremony of blood brotherhood with the King.
Of course, everyone in the family didn't believe a word of it, and assumed that the old boy had been off again of one of his famous 'benders' - he was known to enjoy spending an entire weekend progressing down the Romford Road, pub-crawling every hostelry on the way, from Romford to Poplar. When the war was over, and Hitler had shown personal interest in Pop's progress by bombing the Burdett Road railway arches and scattering his horses all over East London, he moved out to Hoddesdon and retired on a small holding there. No more was said about gypsies.
But when he died in the early sixties, one of my uncles was intrigued to notice at the funeral two guys standing at the back, holding their caps respectfully in front of them - which is exactly what you don't do at a Jewish cemetery - and he asked politely if they knew Pop at all, as he didn't himself know who they were. They replied that they had been asked to come to represent the gypsy community, as the Gypsy King had heard that 'Jack The Jew' (as he was known) had died and he wanted to pay his respects. As Jewish funerals are traditionally held very quickly, word had obviously got around with some speed. They confirmed all that Pop had told them about his relations with the Gypsies at Rainham, and the doubters in the family were very humbled.
Buster73 said:
Glasgowrob said:
cant say a good word about travelers but there is a very similar(some say sub group). Showpeople.
used to have an industrial unit in Glasgow with the yard opposite owned by showmen. utterly lovely people pleasant, polite and some of the best engineering skills I've seen anywhere.
watched them fabricate rides from scratch and the wagons are immaculate. lovely group of people and if all travelers could follow the same example we wouldn't have any problems
Know plenty of them down in the NE , great community.used to have an industrial unit in Glasgow with the yard opposite owned by showmen. utterly lovely people pleasant, polite and some of the best engineering skills I've seen anywhere.
watched them fabricate rides from scratch and the wagons are immaculate. lovely group of people and if all travelers could follow the same example we wouldn't have any problems
Next time you speak to them ask them about the Showman's Guild , quite interesting how they have set down rules and guidelines that the showman community take very seriously.
Some hefty sanctions been placed over the years.
A while back I was in the local sports centre getting changed after going running. The annual fair was setting up alongside on some carparks/waste ground.
As I was showering three youngish guys came in,obviously from the fair - filthy, oily, wearing high-viz - and proceeded to get undressed and start showering with a lot of loud ribald comments and banter between themselves. After a few minutes a slightly older guy came in and started chatting (shouting across the room) with them.He asked if one of them had paid for all their showers. "Nah," said one of the younger ones, "the fire door was open round the back so we came in there."
Older guy went ballistic! He made the guy get out of the shower and go down to the desk to pay the £2 each for the showers. "This place is really helpful to us, you're not going to f
k it up for us by taking liberties."They know they need to come back, so don't burn their bridges.
At least they aren't Orlando Bloom
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/04/27/orlando...
"...When asked during an interview on BBC Radio 1's Breakfast Show about whether he does his own stunts, the Pirates of the Caribbean actor replied: “I’m still a 3.14key from Kent, boy, I’m still a 3.14key from Kent. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of me, boy.”
Nick Grimshaw, the presenter, later apologised on air for his guest's remarks as social media users condemned the language..."
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/04/27/orlando...
"...When asked during an interview on BBC Radio 1's Breakfast Show about whether he does his own stunts, the Pirates of the Caribbean actor replied: “I’m still a 3.14key from Kent, boy, I’m still a 3.14key from Kent. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of me, boy.”
Nick Grimshaw, the presenter, later apologised on air for his guest's remarks as social media users condemned the language..."
alfie2244 said:
probably chalk said:
Roofless Toothless said:
I have a gypsy story, perhaps a bit different from most on here.
My mum's father was a real character, You could write a book about him. He was a Jew from Kiev and came to London in 1906, having deserted from the Russian Army. (Jews were not lasting very long at the front in the Russian Japanese war.) He tried out a lot of different ways of earning a living, but just before WWII he was doing alright, trading and renting horses in the East End. They were all stabled under the railways arches in Burdett Road.
One day a young gypsy lad came up to him and asked to rent a horse to do a job for a day. Only he didn't have any money, and could pay him only when he got paid himself in the evening. For some reason Pop liked the look of the lad and let him have a horse, and a cart too. Everybody told him he was out of his mind, that was the last he would see of the gypsy lad, his cart and the horse - but in the evening back the youngster came, paid Pop every penny and expressed great gratitude for the trust he had been shown.
From then on, lots of gypsies came to do business with Pop. He went so far as to learn a few words in their language, and bought many horses from them, not all of which were still alive the next morning, but that is another story! Eventually, he was asked if he would like to come and meet their Gypsy King at his place out in the Hornchurch/Rainham area. So Pop went, was well received, and believe it or not took part in a ceremony of blood brotherhood with the King.
Of course, everyone in the family didn't believe a word of it, and assumed that the old boy had been off again of one of his famous 'benders' - he was known to enjoy spending an entire weekend progressing down the Romford Road, pub-crawling every hostelry on the way, from Romford to Poplar. When the war was over, and Hitler had shown personal interest in Pop's progress by bombing the Burdett Road railway arches and scattering his horses all over East London, he moved out to Hoddesdon and retired on a small holding there. No more was said about gypsies.
But when he died in the early sixties, one of my uncles was intrigued to notice at the funeral two guys standing at the back, holding their caps respectfully in front of them - which is exactly what you don't do at a Jewish cemetery - and he asked politely if they knew Pop at all, as he didn't himself know who they were. They replied that they had been asked to come to represent the gypsy community, as the Gypsy King had heard that 'Jack The Jew' (as he was known) had died and he wanted to pay his respects. As Jewish funerals are traditionally held very quickly, word had obviously got around with some speed. They confirmed all that Pop had told them about his relations with the Gypsies at Rainham, and the doubters in the family were very humbled.
I enjoyed that. Thanks for posting.My mum's father was a real character, You could write a book about him. He was a Jew from Kiev and came to London in 1906, having deserted from the Russian Army. (Jews were not lasting very long at the front in the Russian Japanese war.) He tried out a lot of different ways of earning a living, but just before WWII he was doing alright, trading and renting horses in the East End. They were all stabled under the railways arches in Burdett Road.
One day a young gypsy lad came up to him and asked to rent a horse to do a job for a day. Only he didn't have any money, and could pay him only when he got paid himself in the evening. For some reason Pop liked the look of the lad and let him have a horse, and a cart too. Everybody told him he was out of his mind, that was the last he would see of the gypsy lad, his cart and the horse - but in the evening back the youngster came, paid Pop every penny and expressed great gratitude for the trust he had been shown.
From then on, lots of gypsies came to do business with Pop. He went so far as to learn a few words in their language, and bought many horses from them, not all of which were still alive the next morning, but that is another story! Eventually, he was asked if he would like to come and meet their Gypsy King at his place out in the Hornchurch/Rainham area. So Pop went, was well received, and believe it or not took part in a ceremony of blood brotherhood with the King.
Of course, everyone in the family didn't believe a word of it, and assumed that the old boy had been off again of one of his famous 'benders' - he was known to enjoy spending an entire weekend progressing down the Romford Road, pub-crawling every hostelry on the way, from Romford to Poplar. When the war was over, and Hitler had shown personal interest in Pop's progress by bombing the Burdett Road railway arches and scattering his horses all over East London, he moved out to Hoddesdon and retired on a small holding there. No more was said about gypsies.
But when he died in the early sixties, one of my uncles was intrigued to notice at the funeral two guys standing at the back, holding their caps respectfully in front of them - which is exactly what you don't do at a Jewish cemetery - and he asked politely if they knew Pop at all, as he didn't himself know who they were. They replied that they had been asked to come to represent the gypsy community, as the Gypsy King had heard that 'Jack The Jew' (as he was known) had died and he wanted to pay his respects. As Jewish funerals are traditionally held very quickly, word had obviously got around with some speed. They confirmed all that Pop had told them about his relations with the Gypsies at Rainham, and the doubters in the family were very humbled.
The East End has always been a melting pot and at least in my Pop's and my dad's days seemed a bit more tolerant, if not exactly politically correct. My mum's side were Jewish, black coats and hats and all some of them, and my dad was a choirboy at St Michael & All Angels. They all got on, though. And there were Chinese and Gypsies around as well.
My background makes me uneasy at how many posts on this thread just put people in bags and assume it is possible to paint them all the same. Jews have suffered a bit from that over the years. I live in Essex and we get our share of visits from travellers. It is very easy to jump on the bandwagon of outrage, and even easier to cross the line between criticism of lifestyle choice and ethnicity.
But the best bits of me hesitate before condemning them out of hand. Perhaps we need to walk a mile in their shoes. I can't say I don't think less charitable thoughts on some occasions, but that's not something I am proud of. I get pretty divided over it.
I'd better get my head down now and await a flaming.
Edited by Roofless Toothless on Thursday 27th April 14:53
Two sites near us;
One was granted planning permission in 1984 for 3 Caravans, for the last 10 years they have had 10 on the site.
The other is seeking to "legalise 14 pitches" in other words although we had permission for 10 we regularly have 24.
Makes a complete mockery of the system, they will get permission for both as they have been there that long. The issue being the council don't have the manpower to check every planning application for ever and a day.
I built a 5 x 3 detached wood garage, within weeks they were all over me like a rash...
One was granted planning permission in 1984 for 3 Caravans, for the last 10 years they have had 10 on the site.
The other is seeking to "legalise 14 pitches" in other words although we had permission for 10 we regularly have 24.
Makes a complete mockery of the system, they will get permission for both as they have been there that long. The issue being the council don't have the manpower to check every planning application for ever and a day.
I built a 5 x 3 detached wood garage, within weeks they were all over me like a rash...
The loveable scamps made a home in a building site in Wycombe the other week
http://www.bucksfreepress.co.uk/news/15219617.Trav...
They then did lots of odd jobs/called their mates from far and wide and made the place into a bigger refuse dump in 2 weeks than the proper tip up the road is!
http://www.bucksfreepress.co.uk/news/15249971.PICT...
Infact we had a small group of them in our car park at work last year as the barrier broke, they were moved on but a few weeks ago I was on the phone outside idly wandering about and saw a load of gas canisters and other rubbish deep in the hedge at the side of the car park that the poor sods the landlord employed to clean the rubbish up employed
http://www.bucksfreepress.co.uk/news/15219617.Trav...
They then did lots of odd jobs/called their mates from far and wide and made the place into a bigger refuse dump in 2 weeks than the proper tip up the road is!
http://www.bucksfreepress.co.uk/news/15249971.PICT...
Infact we had a small group of them in our car park at work last year as the barrier broke, they were moved on but a few weeks ago I was on the phone outside idly wandering about and saw a load of gas canisters and other rubbish deep in the hedge at the side of the car park that the poor sods the landlord employed to clean the rubbish up employed
ellroy said:
I'm of Irish extraction and was put in this room at a hotel a week ago. Can I sue?
Given we can all see you in the reflection I don't doubt your ancestry..........as well as a Romany grandparent I also have Irish ancestry but for the life of me can't see the point you are trying to make 
Roofless Toothless said:
My background makes me uneasy at how many posts on this thread just put people in bags and assume it is possible to paint them all the same. Jews have suffered a bit from that over the years. I live in Essex and we get our share of visits from travellers. It is very easy to jump on the bandwagon of outrage, and even easier to cross the line between criticism of lifestyle choice and ethnicity.
But the best bits of me hesitate before condemning them out of hand. Perhaps we need to walk a mile in their shoes. I can't say I don't think less charitable thoughts on some occasions, but that's not something I am proud of. I get pretty divided over it.
I'd better get my head down now and await a flaming.
]
The only experience most people have with travellers is a negative one, unless that changes opinions won't either. But the best bits of me hesitate before condemning them out of hand. Perhaps we need to walk a mile in their shoes. I can't say I don't think less charitable thoughts on some occasions, but that's not something I am proud of. I get pretty divided over it.
I'd better get my head down now and await a flaming.
]
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