Runaway train
28 August 2002 09:15![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mandragoraOnce a year my nephews spend a week staying with their grandparents, without Mum and Dad. Once a year my mother begs me to come and stay at my parents' place in order to assist in entertaining said nephews. So far, I've always taken pity on her and agreed. This year was no exception.
Is it just me, or are boys harder to deal with than girls?
Anyway, amongst the other entertainment this year we took them to a theme park called The American Adventure. It was full of faux American culture - fake saloons, diners, bars etc. And, of course, the rides. The advantage of me going along is that, as a person who *loves* going on rides, the bigger and most stomach churning the better (what can I say, I'm an adrenaline junkie), I would happily get on all the rides with the kids so my beleaguered parents wouldn't have to. Some of the rides were actually pretty good, The Missile, for example, which was a roller coaster which hit 60mph at some points and looped the loop a few times both forwards and backwards engendered a genuine thrill. We rode that one a few times. The American Adventure isn't as good as Alton Towers, of course, but is worth a visit.
Anyway, we decided to get on a ride called The Runaway Train. The seats were such that there were 4 people to a carriage, divided into 2 sets of 2 seats. The seats weren't molded, though, and you could easily slide across from one to the other. The kids got onto the one set of seats and I sat in front of them, beside a Frenchwoman. The ride wasn't sufficiently violent that you really needed to be strapped in, not like The Missile, for example, where each person had an individual bar that can down around their body. In th case of the Runaway Train, the safety bar was made of metal and simply came down across both people in each seat.
So, we set off on the ride and despite it looking quite gentle from the ground it was actually pretty good. The track rolled up and down and several times twisted quite violently to one side or another. The Frenchwoman and I spent some time apologising to one another when the carriage angled at such a way as to send one of us sliding over - forcefully - into the other as the train twisted and turned it's way round the track. Several times it was at quite a severe angle. Then it was over, as we approached the end point, back to where we'd started. Only it wasn't. The train kept going.
That's unusual, I thought to myself, letting us go round the track twice. I was right, it was unusual; in fact the train had been meant to stop and now really was running away!
There were a few exclamations from the passengers, but no one was panicking as we weren't certain whether this was meant to happen or not, and then the train jerked to a halt, and reversed. We finally stopped at a point where there was a wooden platform, high up on stilts, with a ladder up from the ground to the platform. Trouble was, the track at this point was at a rather sever angle and I was at the top of the seat. I grasped frantically at the side of the carriage and braced my feet to avoid sliding inexorably on top of the hapless Frenchwoman who was sharing the seat. I was sweating as I braced myself hard. If I'd been in a seat with someone I knew I'd have thought the hell with it and let myself slide on top of the other person. But this was a stranger and well, to just let myself go would have been awfully rude. Hmm, I can be so British at times!
Eventually, the passengers realised that we weren't going to move at any time soon and several started to wriggle out from under the safety bar, which was still locked in place, onto the wooden platform and down the ladder. As soon as the, thankfully, slim Frenchwoman clambered out of the seat I was up and out, onto the platform and shaking my arms, which had been bearing the strain, ruefully. I noted that some poor hapless large people were well and truly trapped, not able to wriggle out from under the safety bar but couldn't stop to see if I could help in any way as I had to chase after my nephews who were already down the ladder. We wended our way around the track, which was raised high above our heads, until we came to the exit and leaped to the ground, laughing as we did so. The Runaway Train had definitely lived up to its name.
Is it just me, or are boys harder to deal with than girls?
Anyway, amongst the other entertainment this year we took them to a theme park called The American Adventure. It was full of faux American culture - fake saloons, diners, bars etc. And, of course, the rides. The advantage of me going along is that, as a person who *loves* going on rides, the bigger and most stomach churning the better (what can I say, I'm an adrenaline junkie), I would happily get on all the rides with the kids so my beleaguered parents wouldn't have to. Some of the rides were actually pretty good, The Missile, for example, which was a roller coaster which hit 60mph at some points and looped the loop a few times both forwards and backwards engendered a genuine thrill. We rode that one a few times. The American Adventure isn't as good as Alton Towers, of course, but is worth a visit.
Anyway, we decided to get on a ride called The Runaway Train. The seats were such that there were 4 people to a carriage, divided into 2 sets of 2 seats. The seats weren't molded, though, and you could easily slide across from one to the other. The kids got onto the one set of seats and I sat in front of them, beside a Frenchwoman. The ride wasn't sufficiently violent that you really needed to be strapped in, not like The Missile, for example, where each person had an individual bar that can down around their body. In th case of the Runaway Train, the safety bar was made of metal and simply came down across both people in each seat.
So, we set off on the ride and despite it looking quite gentle from the ground it was actually pretty good. The track rolled up and down and several times twisted quite violently to one side or another. The Frenchwoman and I spent some time apologising to one another when the carriage angled at such a way as to send one of us sliding over - forcefully - into the other as the train twisted and turned it's way round the track. Several times it was at quite a severe angle. Then it was over, as we approached the end point, back to where we'd started. Only it wasn't. The train kept going.
That's unusual, I thought to myself, letting us go round the track twice. I was right, it was unusual; in fact the train had been meant to stop and now really was running away!
There were a few exclamations from the passengers, but no one was panicking as we weren't certain whether this was meant to happen or not, and then the train jerked to a halt, and reversed. We finally stopped at a point where there was a wooden platform, high up on stilts, with a ladder up from the ground to the platform. Trouble was, the track at this point was at a rather sever angle and I was at the top of the seat. I grasped frantically at the side of the carriage and braced my feet to avoid sliding inexorably on top of the hapless Frenchwoman who was sharing the seat. I was sweating as I braced myself hard. If I'd been in a seat with someone I knew I'd have thought the hell with it and let myself slide on top of the other person. But this was a stranger and well, to just let myself go would have been awfully rude. Hmm, I can be so British at times!
Eventually, the passengers realised that we weren't going to move at any time soon and several started to wriggle out from under the safety bar, which was still locked in place, onto the wooden platform and down the ladder. As soon as the, thankfully, slim Frenchwoman clambered out of the seat I was up and out, onto the platform and shaking my arms, which had been bearing the strain, ruefully. I noted that some poor hapless large people were well and truly trapped, not able to wriggle out from under the safety bar but couldn't stop to see if I could help in any way as I had to chase after my nephews who were already down the ladder. We wended our way around the track, which was raised high above our heads, until we came to the exit and leaped to the ground, laughing as we did so. The Runaway Train had definitely lived up to its name.
