Appleby Ground Zero: Fighting in the street, urine through letter boxes and locals terrified into silence… FRED KELLY talks to the locals who are either fleeing or bracing for 10,000 travellers and their horses to descend

On a quiet residential street in a picture-perfect Cumbrian town, an elderly couple are hurriedly packing up their car.

‘I know it doesn’t start for a week,’ the woman says, ‘but I’m so anxious that we’ve decided to get away already.’

Her eyes dart left to right, checking no one is in earshot.

‘Our neighbours will watch the house,’ her husband chimes in.

What on earth could have sparked such unease in this genteel couple who live on an unassuming street beside the River Eden?

Gypsies are beginning to gather in Appleby’s beautiful square ahead of this week’s fair

Applyby is the largest gathering of gipsies and travellers anywhere in Europe and an event which has been marred by alleged anti-social behaviour, drug-taking and violence

In previous years, cars and caravans arriving for the fair have clogged up the road into Appleby

Well, this week, the infamous annual Appleby Horse Fair rolls into town. And, having lived in Appleby-in-Westmorland since 1980, the couple knows the horror of the fair better than most.

It is the largest gathering of gipsies and travellers anywhere in Europe and an event which, over recent years, has been marred by alleged anti-social behaviour, drug-taking and violence. Last year’s fair saw 42 arrests.

Of course, the majority of travellers and gipsies are personable, keen-spirited folk, but it takes only a few bad apples to spoil the event.

The fair traces its roots back to 1775, when it was little more than a gathering of sheep and cattle traders. It wasn’t until the early 20th century that it became associated with the gipsy community.

Today, gipsies ride their ponies down into the River Eden for a ‘wash’, before charging them back up the hill and racing them along ‘Flashing Lane’ to attract potential buyers.

However, according to traumatised residents, this is nothing more than an excuse for an almighty knees-up.

‘It’s not like it used to be,’ the elderly woman, who declined to be named for fear of retribution, told the Mail last week.

‘The travellers used to respect the locals and if they saw any trouble they’d stop it themselves. Now it’s turned from a horse fair to a holiday. There’s rubbish, noise, fast cars and total disrespect for the locals.’

And God help the brave few who speak out. It was widely verified by residents that the preferred form of gipsy retribution is to squirt urine through your letterbox.

What started out as an honest gathering for the trading of animals has, over time, morphed into a drug-fuelled jamboree.

Last year’s fair was particularly soured by the death of 15-year-old Denis Ward who fell from a moving vehicle. 

And this year’s event has already come under fire even before it kicks off after Trading Standards officers told revellers to be wary of ‘counterfeit goods, including counterfeit alcohol, tobacco, perfumes, cosmetics and branded electrical items’ being sold at the gipsy market on a hill above the old Roman road.

So, with just a few days to go before this year’s fair begins on Thursday, just how is Appleby’s 3,000-strong population preparing for an influx of 10,000 gipsies (and 30,000 other visitors) with more than 1,000 caravans and hundreds of horse-drawn sulkies (two-wheeled carts) and wagons?

When the Mail visited Appleby, it found businesses preparing to close while the fair is on. Railings were being boarded up to prevent the tethering of horses and several fearful residents were preparing to absent themselves.

It’s abundantly clear why. Horses aren’t supposed to enter Appleby until the fair begins. The Shera Rom (gipsy leader), Billy Welch, even declared: ‘I am appealing to the gipsy and traveller community not to come too close, too soon.’

Yet by last Wednesday morning, the historic town centre was already heaving with dozens of horses and sulkies which had made the journey from places as far as Maidstone in Kent — more than 300 miles away.

Cars were at a standstill as police tried in vain to move the gipsies on. Locals watched from a distance with knowing stares: it had begun.

Peter Metcalfe lives with his wife Leslie on the aptly named Romany Way, a charming cul-de-sac in north Appleby. He is also secretary of the town’s thriving bowls club and boasts a mean -5 handicap.

‘If I had it my way, there wouldn’t be a fair at all,’ he says over a brew, having just led his team to victory on the lawn. ‘Those who visit have no respect for people’s property. Last year, gipsies walked a horse straight into the Crown & Cushion. No wonder all the pubs are shutting this year.’

Unlike previous years, when Mr Metcalfe had to deploy a rota of members to guard the bowls club lawn, this year he thankfully has no such worries. The police have rented out the clubhouse to provide catering for the assembled emergency services. It’s the best private security in town.

But Mr Metcalfe hasn’t always been so lucky. Back in 2000, he was working as a volunteer fireman during the fair when a call came in about a blaze at a gipsy encampment. This is not uncommon as the gipsies often dig up and burn the wooden stakes planted in the ground by the council to prevent caravans driving on to private land.

When Mr Metcalfe’s crew arrived, they were attacked by gipsies who ransacked the fire truck before urinating down the windshield. It was a terrifying altercation, he says.

Violence has since become part and parcel of the fair. ‘Just last year, there was a riot up on Battlebarrow,’ says Mr Metcalfe. A fight between gipsy families threatened to spill over and ‘the police had to form a line at the bottom of the road to protect the town.’

Eighty-five-year-old Dave Sampson was formerly deputy head of the grammar school. Decades ago he found the fair rather pleasant: ‘The Irish were always good for a natter,’ he recalls with a smile. ‘But today, it’s just folk from Liverpool and Manchester, not the old Romany families. These days, we avoid Appleby during the fair.’

Dave’s friend, 91-year-old Mark Sisson chimes in: ‘They’re not gipsies now, just riffraff.’

Mr Sisson was born in Appleby and lived here all his life except for a spell in Penrith, 12 miles away. As I walk away, he says defiantly: ‘The fair should be stopped!’

But what of businesses, many of which can’t afford to shut during the busiest week of the year?

Tris Wilson runs a traditional sweet shop in the heart of Appleby. Among the jars of gobstoppers and bon bons, the 71-year-old admits that some of the people who come for the fair are a nuisance.

However, the week does bring vital custom and Mr Wilson will be keeping half of the premises open to capitalise on the roaring trade.

He used to own a pub and found the biggest problem during the fair was drugs. He even resorted to spraying WD40 on the toilet seats to prevent people from snorting cocaine in his facilities.

Peter Metcalfe, of Appleby Bowling Club, says the gypsies do not respect property in the town

Travellers are starting to park up on verges on roads leading to Appleby before the fair begins

Meanwhile, Ashley has lived in the town for two decades and manages the greengrocers. During the fair, he’ll be shutting early at midday — not just because he’s afraid of trouble inside the shop, but also because he’s got to make deliveries to elderly customers too scared to enter town during the melee.

Ashley is a strong, middle-aged man, but even he admits: ‘I don’t feel safe most of the time.’ This week, a couple of gipsies threw beer glasses at his shop. ‘Don’t worry,’ he assures me, ‘there’ll be armed police here next week.’

Across the road, 45-year-old Julie works at the bakery. This week, she’ll have to walk the long way home to avoid a potential confrontation with an intimidating mob on horseback. ‘It’s hectic, and it’s getting rougher,’ she concedes.

But not everyone in Appleby is dreading the fair. Valerie Kendall, 87, is more philosophical: ‘Lots of residents high-tail it out of here,’ she says as she potters around her charming former almshouse. ‘But, you know what, I don’t mind it.’

In 13 years of living in Appleby, Valerie’s had only two moments of terror. In one, a gipsy’s dog bit her hand, though it didn’t draw blood. ‘The owner couldn’t have been more apologetic,’ she says.

Then a few years later a horse shied suddenly in the town and she was forced to jump for cover in someone’s front garden. But Valerie laughs at that incident now: ‘You’ve just got to keep your wits about you,’ she says.

One Yorkshireman in his mid-70s, who has lived in Appleby for 12 years, was equally sanguine. The worst thing about the fair in his opinion is the risk of the horse dung ‘turning to slurry’ in wet weather. ‘Otherwise, it’s usually very peaceful,’ he says. ‘They tend to keep any fighting between themselves and outside the town.’

And for all the traffic upheaval caused by the sulkies, there is another side to the event. During the day, hordes of excited children pose for pictures with the horses, their owners happy to oblige.

But a visit to the market town of Kirkby Stephen, 13 miles away, where many gipsies are already setting up camp ahead of the fair, gives a sense of what locals in Appleby are worried about.

When the Mail passed through, we found surrounding roads peppered with caravans and up to 50 horses and ponies tied up on the verge. The smell was horrendous and, with each passing vehicle, the ponies bucked in fright, tugging at their tethers.

Residents have placed metre-wide boulders in front of private driveways and all but one of the town’s pubs have decided to close their doors. It is as though the area is on a war footing.

The fair is not a licensed event and so has no individual organisation responsible for its running. However, in 2008, the Multi-Agency Strategic Coordinating Group (MASCG) was formed to support and co-ordinate the numerous groups involved.

MASCG is chaired by Westmorland and Furness Council and includes representatives from the gipsy community as well as Cumbria Constabulary, the RSPCA and the Environment Agency.

When the Mail visited Appleby, it found businesses preparing to close while the fair is on

Two men arriving for the fair last week adjust the saddle and harness of a horse

A spokesman for MASCG said the event does have ‘cultural and economic benefits’, but admitted that ‘the influx of such large numbers of people into the town presents its own challenges’.

That’s an understatement. Cumbria Constabulary is tasked with keeping the peace. The force says the fair marks its ‘biggest policing operation’ of the year and stresses that safety is the ‘top priority’. However, it refuses to reveal how many officers will be deployed.

Whatever the case, the police are already busy. A few weeks ago, two men were arrested and a number of stolen caravans recovered at an illegal gipsy camp outside Appleby.

Pressure on Cumbria Police escalated last month when local MP Simon Furness questioned whether the force was suitably prepared, not only for the Appleby fair but a concurrent event — a gathering of thousands of motorcyclists in memory of the late TV chef, ‘Hairy Biker’ Dave Myers, who died in February.

Police said they expect the latter event to be ‘positive and good-natured’. One can only assume they don’t anticipate the same from the horse fair.

Nine animal welfare charities, including the RSPCA and the Redwings horse sanctuary, have also banded together to form the Appleby Horse Fair Welfare Project. The group will provide a veterinary station as well as handing out awards to horses that appear in ‘best health’, as a means of incentivising the gipsy community to care for their animals.

Leanne Plumtree, of Redwings, says: ‘The majority of horses at Appleby Horse Fair are well cared for by experienced and knowledgeable horse people.’ However, she stresses: ‘Anyone with any concerns about an animal at the fair should approach an RSPCA or police officer.’

Animal welfare is clearly a major problem at the fair. One pony tied up outside The Hare & Hounds pub in the heart of Appleby last week was left in the beating sun for over two hours, strapped to a sulky and without water.

Vanessa — not her real name — caught me watching the pitiful creature and shared this horrific tale: ‘A few years ago, we saw one horse being ridden up and down all day in the heat,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘It was exhausted. Then, at the end of the day, it was tied to a post and left to die.’

A short distance from the pub, at the top of the main road, stands a 17th-century monument engraved with the words: Retain Your Loyalty. Preserve Your Rights.

When it comes to the Appleby Horse Fair, it is clear that the rights of local people are readily dispensable.

With the fair just days away, those who haven’t left are waiting with bated breath for this quintessentially English town to turn into the Wild West once more.