When I was younger I loved the idea of going to a theme park.
It didn’t happen all that often so it was a rare treat to go to Alton Towers or Thorpe Park (or Chessington/Drayton Manor when we were younger.)
So when I grew up (apparently I’ve grown up) I made the most of the annual 2-for-1 offers and made my way to one of the big two theme parks for a day of thrill-seeking.
Recently I went to Alton Towers and whereas it was a great day I walked away feeling a little bit green. Gone are the days I can jump on a roller-coaster and not come off feeling more annihilated then exhilarated, probably down to a nasty bout of vertigo about 9 years ago.
That’s not to say it isn’t fun anymore. I love spending time with my friends/wife and overall I had an amazing day. It’s just the thrill has turned to ill as I corkscrew my way around for the 14th time.
I think the problem we faced recently was that we found ourselves in a near empty park, so the queues were minimal. Again, a ‘problem’ I would have killed for a few years ago.
The result was that my adult brain and belly didn’t have time to settle and go back to ‘normal’ so I spent most of the day praying I wouldn’t be ‘that guy’ who threw up outside Nemesis, while the 12-year olds ran back round screaming ‘let’s go again!’
Even the cable cars seemed to make my belly feel a bit iffy and I was sat wondering what had happened to my once thriving metabolism and love of all things adventurous.
Of course, this won’t be the last time I go to a theme park. I’m sure I will be convinced to go again and I’ll love it, just maybe next time I will actually embrace my Britishness and pray for a bit of a queue. Nothing beats moaning about queues in Britain does it? That and the extortionate £6 I paid to park – man, I’m getting old.