I HAVE never liked any form of physical entertainment or travel that involves throwing your insides one way while your body goes the other. I am a lousy sailor and can tell horror stories of Channel crossings.
Sink! I have been known to urge the boat simply to bring an end to the sickness.
Carousels are too up and down and you can forget Waltzers which not only go up and down but round and about as well.
And I once had a funny turn on the ferris wheel at the Prater Park in Vienna which rotates at the pace of a very slow slug.
I had gone with the highest literary intentions of paying homage to Orson Welles in The Third Man but instead of invoking a reflective insight to encapsulate the moment for posterity, all I could say was: ‘Stop the wheel, I want to get off.’ Impossible, of course, until it had completed its full cycle.
I blame it all on being scared by a Big Dipper when I was a child.
Which means that research conducted at a theme park is of no benefit to me at all, although it could help you.
It claims that white knuckle rides can be beneficial to the human condition. They can help those suffering from short term stress, help increase self-confidence and enhance memory.
Does this mean doctors can start prescribing the Pleasure Beach on the National Health?
If they do, then the rides cannot be taken in isolation. They have to embrace the ethos of an adult day out, whether it be all male and full of bravado or a hen party dressed in sparkly tops and tutus.
“Does my bum look big in this?”
“Yes.”
So a GP might well instruct: “Big One twice a day followed by a single dose of Valhalla and three spins of the Revolution, all to be taken after alcoholic beverage and a large a pizza and chips.”
Which would leave patients staggering back to the car park, arms around each other’s shoulders in mutual support, exchanging medical insights.
“I did that. Me. I can do anything now.”
“Have we time for a last pint to celebrate our lack of stress?”
“Course we have. It’s your round.”
“Nothing wrong with your memory, then?”
See. It works.
Now, I wonder if a doctor would prescribe me a visit to Vienna to have another go on the ferris wheel and restore my battered self confidence? That would be a ticket for two, please doc. First class.
