My Manor

By Paul Flower on Sep 4, 09 07:50 PM

The last day of the school summer holidays. Tradition in our household dictates a visit to Drayton Manor, even though the weather was suggesting that this may not be my best idea. Since what once used to be a surprise trip has since become an expected obligation off we went.

There is always logic to the decision, it marks the end of the break with an event and as some schools have already gone back it means that the park should be quieter. I have my own theme park tolerance formula: if the duration of queuing time is greater than the sum of the length of ride multiplied by the number of thrills then it's not worthwhile. Obviously I've never properly calculated this, but you tend to get a general idea.

This year I asked the children to eachbring a friend, to solve the problem of them arguing between themselves over which rides to go on. I had no doubt that they'd find something else to argue about, and doubling the number of kids under my control may also have been unwise but I could address those issues as they arose.

Drayton Manor is like an old friend, slightly dishevelled around the edges and having seen better days - but you're always pleased to see them. We have grown up with the park, and it's always had a range of rides that pretty much suited everyone. Although, after this year I fear we may have to upgrade to the older thrills of Alton Towers.

Once within we bypassed the new Thomas-land, as we're definitely too old for that, and decided to hit the G-Force early. It is never a disappointment, though the queuing tolerance was already being tested as the guy behind me seemed to want to get so close that I feared he was expecting me to give him a piggy-back up the stairs.

The length of queue does give you an opportunity to read the graffiti though. My particular favourite this time was 'Nuneton waz ere' as it allowed me to ponder if the 'artist' was really so stupid that they would've misspelled their home town, or if they were trying to be clever and confuse the authorities over where they might be from.

Big Boy.jpg G-Force has a couple of seats which can apparently be adapted for the larger customer. As you'll see from the photo they're known as the Big Boy Seats. I imagine that if I ever had to use one it would be the last time I ventured to any theme park. Indeed the shame of having to use the Big boy seat might help to solve the country's obesity crisis.

From there to Shockwave, the legendary stand-up rollercoaster with cushioning that threatens your manhood as it springs into position between the legs. I couldn't decide if the visible mechanics of the ride were a great reassurance or not. Shockwave is all creaking metal and visible hydraulics dripping with grease (see pic). It's also a blast and consequently we went around again.

Going round twice provides the opportunity to attempt to pose for the in-ride photograph, which still costs a fiver and still comes in a card wallet. As I'm always thinking in marketing terms I couldn't help but wonder why this sales-technique hasn't moved with the times. Surely it'd be cheaper and more effective to charge people via their mobile phones and send all the pics from the day by mms or e-mail, with the additional benefit of data-capturing all those numbers to send offers to in future.

I was never able to improve my pose. I seemed to have gone greyer in the post-ride photos than I remember being, and although I'm smiling my eyes are usually clamped firmly shut.

Onto The Pirate Adventure, the non-thrilling story ride of which we all have fond memories, having ridden it at least twice per visit since before we can remember. Usually it's a good place to hide from the inevitable rain. This ride has definitely seen better days - large parts of what I wouldn't dare call animatronics are no longer working, providing you with sword-fighting pirates who can no longer raise their weapons. This ride left me a little sad.

Fortunately - or unfortunately - depending on your viewpoint Apocalypse was closed. I could never get over the irony of the ride being sponsored by Heart FM, being sure that their listeners weaned on a diet of soft disco, easy listening and ballads would be likely to suffer a failure of that major organ when the ride sends you hurtling towards the floor.

The epitome of Drayton Manor's slow disintegration was when one of my favourite rides - the Wild West shoot-out - failed with me stuck on it. The indignity of being manually pushed out to my waiting children whilst I sat trapped in the 'wagon' may live with me forever. Worst thing was that I love to score higher than the kids but even my guns weren't working.

Saving the water-rides 'til last is our popular Drayton Manor strategy. One seemingly shared by everyone that goes there - who'd want to start their day wet, knowing that in September it'd be impossible to get dry? We temporarily got stuck on Splash Canyon being bypassed by other boats before getting amongst it like some water-borne dodgems ride. I then donned my incredibly useful Hard Rock Café rain-poncho to much ridicule from the children - and random passers-by no doubt. I may have resembled a giant walking condom but I stayed drier than they did.

Of the Manor what more can I say, it's the closest theme park to home and remains great value. I only hope that someone soon shows it the same love that we have for it.