They have occupied the same pitch about mid-way down Walton Street for decades and the throng of customers in orderly queues enforce a welcome pause as you make your way down the avenue of stalls and attractions which fringe the main site.
Prior to our house move some six years ago we had always travelled to Hull Fair on the Park and Ride bus service which set us down at the Anlaby Road end of Walton Street. The procession from that point was past the charcoal barbecued Bratwurst vendor, Chestnut stove, the hawkers with helium filled balloons and novelties, the first of the Wrights Emporiums of brandy snaps, toffee apples and pomegranates, further pitches with metre upon metre of brightly coloured liquorice whips, pyramidal stacks of coconut ice and exotic fudges and interspersed with catering caravans offering all manner of culinary delights from noodles to jerk chicken, scampi, roasts, hot dogs and burgers.
Although tempted by the wonderful aromas and atmosphere of carnival treats we would stride on purposefully to Bob Carvers. It could be a long walk as our arrival around 7pm coincided with the exodus of those who had been and done Hull Fair already and were making their way in the opposite direction to us.
Imagine the feeling of swimming against a tide but in this case of humankind and you get close to the reality of the situation.
Even though focused on our goal the noise and illuminations from the big rides of the funfair, reputed to be the largest travelling fair in Europe, never fails to produce a sense of excitement and anticipation for the evening.
The canopy above Bob's establishment shines out like a beacon in stark white light. There are no subleties of coloured neon or LCD needed for such a Hull Institution.
I take the orders from our family. I don't know why I ask because apart from a few different combinations of the order of saying Pattie, Peas and Chips that is all the fare on offer. If you are seeking any variation at all then you could always try to ask for a breadcake.
The logistical operation behind Bob Carvers is tremendous.
As I stood in line, patiently but beginning to drool, I had a direct view behind the scenes.
The canvas shrouded preparation room was a mass of plastic buckets, stacked in four tiers and five deep per tier, therefore around 80 of them full of water covered chipped potatoes.
Sounds a lot of spuds and yet a young lad had just passed me with a tower of empty purple and grey buckets no doubt heading off into the night to get more.
That store of chips is probably enough for just a couple of hours of business on a typical Hull Fair evening.
A few metal roundels, antiques in their own right with the Carvers name embossed in the rim band stood buy just in case.
Extra staff are drafted in for the week of the Fair and it is a real production line from fryers to servers.
This years price list shows an increase from previous and my family order, three times gave a bit of change out of £15.
The frying ranges are basic but must glow red from their constant use from early afternoon to 11pm daily.
The chips were particularly good this year, a big improvement on the usual gritty mass. There is nothing better than to find a good place to stand on the street and watch the world go, warm polystyrene tray in hand.
Fully fed , the night is just about to begin.
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