Collingham Street is lined with trucks, trailers, stalls and mobile homes.

But there’s nothing temporary about this Cheetham Hill neighbourhood; most residents have lived here for years and many plan to spend the rest of their lives here.

Founded more than 40 years ago, it was created by the Showman’s Guild of Great Britain - and it’s reserved exclusively for fairground workers both retired and current.

Built on Queens Road tip, a former rubbish dump, and rented out by Manchester Council, many of the 52 homes belong to older retired showmen or families for whom an itinerant lifestyle has become more challenging.

It’s a close-knit community with a unique shared history.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

"Folk used to love seeing us"

Retired fairground ride operator Tony Litliernhurnest, 85, is in his shed where he builds miniature motorised versions of the real thing.

His models of waltzers and roundabouts are works of art in a museum celebrating a bygone era.

Every last detail is depicted in intricate paintwork on carved wood, with the machinations to make them move.

He honed his skills building, fixing and managing his own rides on fairgrounds across the north west.

Showing us around sheds piled high with tools, Tony says he’s lived here with wife Evelyn, 89, for 30 years.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

“All showmen used to do their own repairs but it’s all computerised now.

“I got sick of travelling and came here to make kids’ rides. I’ve moved on to these models, but I’ve got the shakes now, that makes it more difficult.”

Tony followed his American dad and Salfordian mother into fairground life aged just 14.

“I’ve never known anything else. Folk used to love seeing us, especially in the war years when everyone holidayed at home.

“Everyone would come out to meet us with jugs of tea and tell us they were glad to see us. There were no televisions or computers then. We were the entertainment. That’s changed so much.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

“I built fairground models for each of my grandchildren - but they’re just not interested.”

Although always welcomed at the fairgrounds, his childhood was often a battle for acceptance.

“We moved around, Leigh, Atherton, Tyldesley, Chorley, Burnley. You name it - and the teachers didn’t try that hard to teach us.

“Teachers would just give something to draw on and some colouring pencils and say ‘there you go, sit in a corner’.

“I used to be called all sorts by other children - all you could do was start fighting with them. I wasn’t keen on school - I’d sooner be at home knocking nails in.”

Traditionally, showmen used lay-bys or found accommodation with sympathetic farmers.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

But stricter planning and trespass laws led to sites like these, and there are now around 380 pitches across the north-west provided by councils, who charge ground rents.

Collingham Street was acquired by Manchester City Council in two parcels in 1956 and 1984.

It’s managed by Fairholme Park Manchester Ltd on their behalf.

The prevalence of communities like this one have grown alongside the need for both comfortable retirement and a formal education for the children of showmen and women.

While they might once have been regarded as ‘winter quarters’, much more time is now spent on sites like this.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

"I was born in a caravan in 1924"

It certainly suits Thomas Edwards, 93, a former children’s ride operator who spent much of his career at Silcock Fun Fairs.

He’s also a bona fide war hero who took part in the Normandy Landings.

As we arrive, his neighbour Pamela Hackett has just brought him dinner.

Like many showmen, Thomas was called up to fight in the Second World War and took part in the Normandy Landings - the Allied invasion of German-occupied France in June 1944.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

Proudly showing off his war medals, he says: “I was born in a caravan in 1924. My parents worked on a fairground and we travelled around Lancashire, Cross Lane Market, Salford Precinct, lots of places. I was 18 when I got called up, there were lots of us showmen, and a great many of my friends died.”

Afterwards, the father-of-five ran children’s rides, just like his parents before him.

"Someone new only really moves on when someone dies"

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

Pamela, 73, lives a few doors down.

Retired 12 years ago from her candy floss and toffee apple stall, she blows dust from a box of old photographs.

A treasure trove, it tells a fairground family history dating back at least five generations.

Smiling out from a crumpled black-and-white photo are her grandparents, standing proudly by their coconut shy.

“It was hard graft,” she says. “But it is good living here - we all get on with one another. Someone new only really moves in when someone dies and leaves their home to a family member.”

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

James Hackett, 71, who used to run a hook-a-duck stall, is Pamela’s brother. He lives further down the street.

“There’s lots of show people that come from round here. It’s all we’ve all known since we were born. It’s changed a lot - the rides have changed, the lifestyle’s changed.

“My kids grew up with it. But it’s a hard life.”

Another worker is loading a truck. “People here never really retire properly, if you retire you corrode. My grandfather retired and he was dead eight months later, we like to keep moving.”

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

"We do face prejudice"

Many residents here reflect fondly on a life spent travelling the country and entertaining the masses.

But what about the next generation? James’ children have diversified, running stalls and shops.

While father-of-three George Holland, 37, who grew up in a showman home, worries the lifestyle may no longer be sustainable for his family.

George, who’s on his way out to the Anglesey Agricultural show with daughter Lily, runs a bungee ride and activity day business, and sells Christmas decorations and Bavarian goods.

He said growing up in a fairground community brings its own set of challenges.

“It’s all I’ve ever known, I’m from a showman family. It goes back nine generations on my mum’s side.

“But for me, it was difficult at school. Friends’ attitudes would change when they found out I was from a showground community.”

He said the same happened at college, where he’d either be treated ‘like the bad lad’ or ‘wasn’t always trusted’.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)

When a pal died recently, he says, the headline was ‘Gypsy Ma Dies’ - a tired stereotype they’ve battled for too long.

He adds: “We do face prejudice and I do think about whether I want my children to grow up with that. They’re young enough now for that not to matter but it could as they get older.

“I’m not sure we’ll stay here, or retire here. Ideally, I’d already be living by a lake in Italy by now, but who knows what the future will bring.”