there's gotta be something better than this...

A friend of my mate Veronica’s has a special exclamation that he likes to treat strangers to at historic landmarks and places of interest.
When, for example, he visited the Grand Canyon, in the middle of a group of tourists, he shouted loudly, in a tone of acute disappointment: ‘IS THAT IT!’ before wandering off.
He did the same at that famous sandstone terrace in Bath and in front of Big Ben.
The effect is, I’m assured, hilarious.
He came to mind yesterday when I visited Sydney’s ‘world famous’ Luna Park fun fair. Luna Park has a chequered past and has opened and closed more times than the proverbial prozzy’s legs, including one unfortunate incident where a group of kids were frazzled to death in the Ghost Train, which is pretty grim.
It’s been open in its current encarnation since about 2000 – after years of being consigned to history. Which I’m sure all the people who had spent A LOT of money on swanky apartments overlooking it were delighted about: who wouldn’t want a screaming rocket attraction whizzing past their window 365 days a year?
We went yesterday, it being Easter holidays and all. I’d wanted to go since I first saw the entrance from the ferry. It’s very 1920s – a huge face with bulging eyes and a mouth you walk through to enter.
So, in we go and we buy a ‘freedom’ pass. $30 for unlimited rides.
Which sounds like good value until you get inside and realise that the rides themselves are extremely limited. The ones you actually want to go on even more so. And most of those are closed. Which is why I remembered Veronica’s mate because, having wandered from one end to the next, dodgy groups of chip-munching, pierced-faced youths, I was temped to shout ‘IS THAT IT!’.
We went on a mini roller coaster, which I liked. Shame that the pleasure:pain ratio was so off kilter. After queuing for 50 minutes the ride was over in 30 seconds. (A bit like bad sex, where mediocre foreplay goes on forever, only you’re actually grateful that the main event is over in the blink of an eye.)
We also went into Coney Island (nearly wrote Canvey) – a ‘fair within a fair’ where there was a maze of mirrors (I counted 3 actual mirrors!), some of those funny cake walk things (if you know what that is please look up You’ve Been Framed best ever clips – number 1 is a woman having an unfortunate incident at a fun fair and makes me weep every time I see it) and those big bumpy slides you need a sack mat to go on.
I was unfussed about all of the above, but my mate Gerry was eager to try the slides so I offered to join her on the junior slope. So, we take our sac mats up the stairs and down we go. REALLY FAST.
I was totally unprepared for the speed at which I hurtled down the metal death trap. So unprepared, in fact, that somehow my arm slipped of my sac mat and scraped along the slidy surface, giving me some rather juicy friction burns along the underside, which took with them most of the skin.
So, $30 for one ride and a seriously grazed arm, which still stings today.
Today, fortunately, my adventure spirit was better rewarded. I went on a ‘bungee trampoline’. This is basically a giant elastic band with an airbed under it. You are strapped to the elastic band and whiz merrily up and down, like Wallace in the Wrong Trousers. It’s fun, in that slightly out of control, it could all go horribly wrong at any second, way. I was particularly thrilled that I managed not one but two backflips. Which were actually quite hard – the kid next to me couldn’t do one!
‘Good backflip,’ said the assistant as she unstrapped me. ‘I had a 59 year old lady from Manchester on yesterday she did one, too!’