Royal wave

Son of Sid, as usual, purchased jewellery, and bagged lots of ideas from the Education exhibits - her Year Six kids will be making paper as part of their Ancient Egypt chunk of the National Curriculum next term by the look of things. We missed out on a male pig called Sally doing tricks and marvelled at the full-to-bursting cooking demonstrations - busiest parts of the whole affair as far as I could make out.

Fascinating to inspect the rare breeds on display - the ruddy-faced sons of the soil still in the brogues and twill trousers they wore when I first attended the Norfolk Show as a junior reporter close on half a century ago. Their womenfolk are still wearing those expensive flowered dresses and Queen Mother-type straw hats and the same Pony Club children with their buns hairsprayed into little clumps resembling fossils are still riding their expensive mounts.

That, of course, is all part of why this was the final Royal. It's now more like a heritage industry theme park and more than a little out of touch. Who in 2009 is going to buy a very pricey thatched architect-designed hut to put in the garden to have barbecues in? Exhibitors seemed to be very confused between Sloans and Chavs, between public entertainment and a straight-ahead trade show. Let's face it, the market for cartoon hunting scenes on plastic toilet seats is very niche, and only the likes of Madonna are going to be buying miniature squire outfits in expensive tweed for their pre-school children.

Wonderful for kids to get close to superb animals and worthy green stuff everywhere (recycling, conservation etc) but it's come to something when the RAF's recruiters have outsourced their activities to a private company who sell rides (at £4 a pop) in a simulator giving the sensation of a Second World War Spitfire flight.

Good and worthy Co-op Food exhibit about bees, but the major retailers - not all attended - had cut way back on free samples and the crowds, despite excellent weather, were noticeably thinner.

A bit of a time warp experience, and as we left I couldn't help recall the comment from a farmer on Radio 4's excellent documentary on the last show - to the effect that if the show had been a horse he would have shot it 20 years ago. But there was no gunshot as we left - this is the way the Royal ends, not with a bang, but a whimper.