ONLY in Glasgow surely would the olfactory combination of the throat-gagging essence of elephant dung and the sweet whiff of spun candy floss provoke joyful memories for the older generations.

They would know immediately that I was referring to the Kelvin Hall of the pre-1990s when the New Year treat was a visit to the circus and carnival which left that indelible smell in your mind for ever.

Between shows, the elephants were chained by their ankles in stalls at the back of the hall where you could gaze upon them as they impassively micturated all around. Seeing these giant animals in chains probably stirred the first thoughts in many youngsters that animals should not be treated in such a fashion. The World Wildlife Fund has a lot to thank the Kelvin Hall for.

Not just the elephants either. A reader told us of a friend looking in at the lions' cage and being peed upon by an incumbent. He had a carriage to himself on the train home.

Now the circus is no more, but the carnival, in its present home at the SECC until Sunday, is as brash, colourful and noisy as ever.

You might think that you have little in common with your children as they bury themselves in the esoteric world of Snapchat and Instagram, but take them to the Irn-Bru Carnival, to give it its sponsored name, and you will see reflections of yourself as they scream on the waltzer and violently charge other cars on the Dodgems, just as you did. "Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose" as you might say if you were pretentious, but there is no room for pretentiousness at the carnival.

You can either sniffily remark that you are now too sphisticated for such raucous treats, or simply throw yourself with gusto into the whirring, clanking, nonsense of it all.

Some of the rides are of course faster and sleeker than those of your youth. They are now controlled by computers, have dizzying light displays, and for the operators, can be erected in a tenth of the time of the old machines. Every ride design is rigorously gone over by the Government's Health and Safety Executive to ensure they are safe, even if the more extreme ones do leave you upside down for a while.

Did I tell you about the third smell often associated with such adventures? Yes, folk can still be parted from their previously digested snacks when they go on the more maniacal rides. But it's all part of the fun of the fair.

Keith Carroll, a consultant to the carnival's organisers, has operated machines at the Glasgow carnival for decades. He says the first fairs were started by royal charter 800 years ago, and the fairs we now know date back to the 1880s when the first steam-powered rides were introduced.

"The carnival in the Kelvin Hall began 93 years ago and came to the SECC in 1985. You see people who came here as children now coming here as grandparents with their grandchildren.

"Fortunately the Irn-Bru Carnival is indoors - the largest indoors carnival in Europe - but over the years we have had caravans outside overturned in the gales, flooding, and one year in the snow it was -18 degrees outside. But showmen are very resilient and just get on with it."

But one thing has changed. As Kevin Carter, who operates the stalls beside the carousel, told me: "Goldfish. What makes a carnival? To me it's the stalls, the Dodgems, the waltzer, candy floss, coconut shys and goldfish. But the Scottish Government banned goldfish, although you can go over the border and still get them."

Who knew that the lowly goldfish would be a benficiary of devolution? And they are beneficiaries. For although the showmen will say the little fish are all alive and well when they leave the carnival, who has not looked into the dead eye of a goldfish days later when the trip home, too long in a plastic bag, and the sudden transfer into a dusty bowl rescued from the attic, has proven to be too traumatic.

Kevin's rifles now fire corks in another subtle change to appease health and safety. "Someone was annoyed the other day. 'Corks!' they said. And I said, 'This is a funfair - no' Afghanistan'."

Kevin, one quickly learns, has a rapport with the customers. Even if someone has a complaint Kevin will soon have them laughing - and probably buying another shot into the bargain.

"There was a woman just the other day at the darts and I had to tell her the darts had to go into separate beds - 'just like your honeymoon' I joked. She punched me hard on my arm and said her honeymoon had been a disaster," says Kevin.

The big thrill rides nowadays are the Speed Buzz, Top Star and Frisbee. Older readers will remember the Rotor where you stood with your back to a circular wall which rotated at dizzying speed so that you were trapped to the wall by centrifugal force while the floor slowly disappeared. Scream? Not me, honest. The new rides do such stunts quhicker and flashier. The screams are just as loud.

Meanwhile between the rides proud boyfriends and fathers try to appear nonchalant as they stroll along with a giant bear they have won tucked under their arm. I've never seen fathers look so proud other than at the birth of their children.

Now if only they could recreate the elephant dung aroma, then the nostalgia of the carnival would be complete.