Eye witness: Make mine a large one, says tallest man

Cole Moreton (6ft 3in) is dwarfed at the bar by the biggest people in Britain

People stop and stare. An undernourished-looking youth sitting on a wall outside the bowling alley clicks his tongue. "Jesus, man," he says in a stage whisper loud enough to be heard across the car park. "What the hell's going on?"

Just a mild bunch of men and women walking towards him, that's all. Some are schoolchildren, some pensioners. Unremarkable, from a distance. Then they get closer and the perspective changes. Buildings shrink. The sky darkens. The world seems crowded. The Tall Persons Club of Great Britain and Ireland has arrived.

"People are gobsmacked when they see us together," says one club member. "It's freakish to them, I suppose."

Anyone who feels tall can join the club, and a few members are only a little above average height. The tallest woman is 6ft 8in, however, and the tallest man 7ft 6in. That really is big.

This weekend the club is holding its annual conference at a hotel in Essex. There will be a black-tie ball, but for the moment we are all eating before bowling. Imagine a party of ordinary-sized adults sitting at tables meant for toddlers, with knees up in their chests and elbows banging and you'll have some idea of how claustrophobic this is. Now imagine you can't shop in any high street without being laughed at, or drive most cars, or fit into airline seats. You suffer from chronic backache and spend most of the time bending down to hear what your friends are saying. Such is the life of a tall person, which is why some find comfort in the company of others of the same size.

"You see them change when they come in," says Mary Noakes, one of the club's directors. "They start standing up straighter, get more confidence, and lose a bit of awkwardness."

The club was started in 1991, and now has about 1,000 members. Half are women, whose height often intimidates the opposite sex. Mary Noakes is 6ft 1in and a bit. "Boys used to tease me terribly at school. I thought I'd dealt with all that until last Christmas when a man asked me to dance at a party. I felt uncomfortable all over again."

She takes care to point out that the club is more than a dating agency for people who want to pick out someone their own size, but there have been 30 marriages in 10 years. Another reason for joining is access to the club directory of suppliers. Many manufacturers still base their sizes on a survey carried out in 1951, when the population was shorter and leaner. But there are increasing numbers of specialist shops, and some chains have recently started to acknowledge this market.

The club magazine also carries articles on the medical conditions associated with tallness, including Marfan Syndrome, which Mike Harrison has learnt all about through painful experience. Seven years ago he met Nicky Rose at a club event and they fell in love. He was 6ft 8in, and in his early thirties. She was nearly 10 years younger, and 6ft 2in. She also suffered from Marfan, which can cause blindness, spinal curvature and heart trouble. "She had an operation on her heart," Mike says. "Afterwards they said she was absolutely fine, come back in a year." But Nicky collapsed and died while they were on holiday in the Lake District.

"I still don't understand it," says Mike. " She was a very talented, remarkable woman." Coming to the club offers a difficult reminder of the good times, but it also has consolations. "People have been very supportive. I know they care."

As we retire to the bar a "normal" person stops Chris Greener and asks to shake his hand. At 7ft 6in and listed in the Guinness Book of Records, Chris has been the tallest man in Britain since 1967. In those days he endured verbal abuse every time he went out but now there is usually warmth and familiarity, as people recognise him from the telly. The hotel is making a suitable fuss of him: the staff not only put a single bed across the bottom of his double, as is right and proper, they also stitched three sets of sheets and covers together.

"I learnt to overcome the problems donkey's years ago," he says, smiling. "I never needed the help some people have got from the club, but it has been a great social thing." With that he accepts a double whisky from Mary, holds up the tumbler in one enormous hand so that it looks like a thimble, and booms: "Are you sure this is a large one?"