Richard Bannister

It was at the start of October, a few short days after returning what was at that stage the last trip of the year that an e-mail arrived from George suggesting a day trip to visit West Midlands Safari Park. It was not expected to be an expensive day out, thanks to a number of very cheap flight options (albeit with antisocial times). The park web site quoted opening hours covering a sensible spread of the day. It was with this in mind that I chose the mid afternoon return flight even though it was somewhat more expensive than the last flight of the night. Then, the night before the trip, George decided to recheck the park hours only to find that they'd been changed. My sensible return flight would now leave me a grand total of an hour in the park, and even with that there was a significant probability of a missed flight. The best plan seemed to be to switch to a seat on the later plane, despite the fact that it was now significantly more expensive than it had been when I'd turned it down. On the plus side, this left me time for a pleasant evening meal in Birmingham. On the negative side, the day was no longer cheap.

Our first port of call at the park was the three coasters. All three are standard models found in other parks around the world, but in this case that isn't a criticism; they fit their location well, although all three could do with a coat of paint. The smallest of the three is African Big Apple (#1089), which is fitted with the smaller style of train that I'm only just able to get into with crossed legs. The largest is Rhino Coaster (#1090), the only large model roller skater in the United Kingdom and a surprisingly good ride, marred only slightly by a rather ominous mechanical clanking noise that didn't exactly inspire confidence. In the middle is the standard spinning coaster seen everywhere. Twister Coaster (#1091) spun at an insane rate, resulting in impressive disorientation almost on a par with that experienced two years ago at Brighton.

We also tried a rather mediocre dark ride by the name of Dr Umboto's Catacombs and a rather stunning drop tower called Venom. The latter was a Fabbri affair that looked like someone had taken a standard tower and cut it down the middle. The expected ring of seats went half way round the tower only, with a chain operating as the lift mechanism. In common with all Fabbri drops the actual freefall took my breath away, and I'd been ready for it. Poor George didn't take me seriously when I warned him that it would be vicious, and the resulting invective was as heartfelt as anything I've ever heard on a thrill ride.

It would be remiss of me not to conclude this trip report without some photos of the park animals. It is, after all, a Safari Park.