Amazing as it may seem, today is our seventh anniversary. So last night to celebrate we went out for a couple of hours, down to St Kilda. This may not seem like a huge celebration, but I don’t need to tell any fellow parents of young children that getting out of the house without them in tow can be a rare event.
We headed over to Luna Park and bumped our way around the Scenic Railway, reportedly the oldest operating roller coaster in the world. It’s not exactly up to the heart-thumping shit-scaring thrill-rides of more recent times, but it has its moments, and the view over the city from the top is terrific.
After this, somehow, L managed to convince me that going on another ride, called the "Spider", would be a good idea. I’ve long thought that many amusement rides are the modern day equivalent of those old torture devices from the dark ages, but capable of handling many more people at a time, and making them pay for the privilege.
The Spider has eight arms. Attached to each of the arms are two compartments holding two people each. When it starts up, the arms spin around and go up and down, and the compartments spin as well. It results in the kind of experience that makes you glad (a) the engineers seem to have done a good job bolting it to the ground, and (b) that you haven’t just eaten your dinner.
Make sure if you ever go on this thing that you don’t feel queasy beforehand, because you sure as hell will afterwards. Quite frankly I’m amazed I didn’t have to write myself a new entry in Great Vomits Of The Twentieth Century.
