Richard Bannister

After leaving Europa Park yesterday evening I drove for three and a half hours to a hotel in Troisdorf, where I enjoyed a shower, about seven hours of unbroken sleep, and a quick breakfast. I then set out to do more or less the same distance again to Jadepark, a combination zoo and amusement park in the north-western corner of Germany, just fifty kilometres from the North Sea and not much more than that from the Dutch border. This was a silly thing to do, but there was a reason for my madness, and as ever, that reason involved a lift hill, gravity, and momentum.

My arrival was marked by grey skies, a bitter wind, and light rain. The suboptimal conditions and the fact that it was a Monday in late October meant that the parking lot was almost completely empty. I counted a grand total of seven cars, and I suspect that at least some of those may have belonged to staff. Despite this however the park was open, and all rides were walk-on. (It's worth noting that the park is in a mostly residential area; I'd expect almost all personnel to walk to work.)

Twenty-six years ago a (then) little-known manufacturer called Gerstlauer Amusement Rides introduced the Bobsled Coaster, an enhanced Wild Mouse with a variety of layout options and the ability to negotiate helices. The first model, officially designated 480/4, premiered as G’sengte Sau at Tripsdrill and was an immediate hit. Since then a further fourteen installations have appeared around the world, the vast majority of them being one-off designs; just two layouts have been cloned as of this writing.

Ziegelblitz (#3139) opened in April 2024 as the first new example of the type in four years. It has been themed to resemble a brick factory, with attention to detail far beyond what one would typically expect from a regional park; manufacturing equipment can be found in the queue, a train car filled with bricks rests adjacent to the track, and there’s even deliberately aged paintwork within the ride area for those really paying attention.

The experience begins with what is probably best described as an onboard pre-show. A small tyre drive lift hill of no more than a metre leads to a descending left turn surrounded by dark ride scenery on both sides. The car comes to a halt for a few seconds in front of a gate, before a tyre drive system launches it gently backwards. There is no track switch or anything like that; riders simply experience the same brief segment of track in both directions. After a few seconds the car runs out of momentum and rolls forwards again. I’m not convinced that this moment adds anything material to the ride, but it’s definitely a novelty, especially for first time passengers.

When the tyres are reached for the second time they provide a gentle forward boost, kicking the car into a gentle turn, an airtime bump, and the base of the main chain lift. The ascent is fully enclosed inside a corrugated sheet metal structure, where a rousing orchestral soundtrack (courtesy of IMAscore) is played. There’s also a blue chaser light that races ahead of the car, a feature that I suspect to be part of a story I was unable to follow as the only words of German I know are unprintable.

The main portion of the layout comprises the usual mix of helices and airtime moments punctuated by block sections that are not in use as of this writing, but which may prove handy in a hypothetical future where the park needs to run multiple cars in parallel. The big drop is actually the third one; a slight twist leads to a descent into a below ground trench, followed by a turnaround and a pair of airtime hills that deliver in style. The overall experience is that of a top tier family coaster. The tracking is smooth, the forces pleasant, and the layout interesting. There is genuinely nothing to fault, and how often have you heard me say that, dear reader?

My second stop was at Spukschloss, a portable ghost train owned by Aiko and Stefan Bartsch and rented to Jaderpark for the halloween season. The ride is one of the oldest of its type still in operation, having first been built in 1964 by the Gratz family. It was toured for almost fifty years by members of the Hansla family before being placed into storage at the end of 2016. It returned to the road this year after a comprehensive overhaul during which it received a completely new facade and a theming upgrade. The ride’s signature feature is a pre-show shortly after dispatch where the gondola stops for a few moments for what I’m told is a “scary story”, though I can report that the fear factor doesn't transcend the language barrier. The inside was well-presented; I’m glad I took the time to see it for myself.

On my way to the exit I made a brief stop at Holzwurm-Achterbahn, a medium-sized Zierer Tivoli. It would have been rude not to. The ride experience today was as expected; a pleasant family coaster, if not something likely to rearrange top ten lists. A quick check on RCDB indicates that I’ve ridden all but one of the extant examples; the remaining unit is at Guilin Merryland in China. Perhaps I’ll get there at some point, though I don’t see a trip in my near future.

As is my habit I ran a quick check on Coaster-Count about three days before my trip, which revealed that a family coaster that I hadn’t ridden would be set up in Geesthacht, a city of roughly thirty thousand located just outside of Hamburg. It’s fair to say that this wasn’t even remotely on my planned route, and it was an exceptionally silly decision to go there. At the same time, however, I have a particular fondness for “street fairs” – those with rides set up along thoroughfares rather than on dedicated grounds – and with that in mind, I decided for not the first time to throw sanity out the window.

There are no large car parks in Geesthacht, but there are plenty of short-term on street spaces. To use these, you will need to place a Parkscheibe (parking disc) in your windscreen with your Ankunftszeit (arrival time) clearly indicated. These are typically supplied with rental cars in Germany, but if you do not have one they can be bought in any motorway service station for a nominal fee. I found a spot less than two hundred metres away from Break Dancer (Fehlauer), a Huss model occupying virtually all of a pedestrianised square at the intersection of Rathausstraße and Trift.

Soon afterwards I located Z Coaster (#3140), a SBF single helix with an elaborate zombie theme. Three green-headed specimens stood tall within the structure, alongside what is probably best described as a zombie carrot – no, I don’t understand it either. A small machine room within the track area shared a vaguely evil green hue with the ride’s back flash, and the effect was completed by custom illuminated LED signage. The only thing that really didn’t fit the appearance was the train, which was a standard race car example complete with rear spoiler. This looked extraordinarily out of place; it’s a real shame that the owners didn’t take the time to create new bodywork for the front and back cars at least.

The ten lap cycle was memorable chiefly for the noise made by the wheel mechanisms, a particular issue given that the track was located just metres away from a residential house. Even as a long-term enthusiast I’m not sure that I could cope with an amusement ride that close to my door. I rather suspect that at least some of the locals decamp to hotels during the fair in the interests of their own sanity.

It took three and a half hours to drive from Geesthacht to Nordhorn, though the journey wasn’t unpleasant; virtually all of it was motorway, and I used it to listen to a good portion of Guenther Steiner’s new book Unfiltered. Signor Steiner became an unlikely celebrity as a result of Netflix’ Drive to Survive, and it’s a genuine shame that he is no longer part of the Formula One circus.


Night had fallen by the time I arrived, which was actually quite helpful; I had a rough idea where the fairground was but I didn’t know for certain, and as a result the bright lights and colours were an invaluable navigation aid. My GPS helped me identify an adjacent multi-storey car park which was ideal in theory, if somewhat less so in practice as it was completely full, with all marked bays and quite a few unofficial locations taken. I decided not to follow the convoy moving slowly around, but instead pulled into the side on the second floor, and in due course my patience was rewarded when a space opened up right in front of me.

Ten minutes later I’d arrived at Anthony’s Abenteuer (#3141), the latest in a long line of German wacky worms with individual names (such as Kuddel, Tom, and Willi). As ever for Germany the ride was beautifully presented, a reminder of just how mediocre similar rides are in the UK and Ireland. A three-lap cycle was being used today, accompanied by a catchy background tune that I’m quite sure the operators have long since grown to hate.