After taking a long weekend break to unwind after a rather hectic and turbulent week at work, I have returned to relax a little more and soak up the rest of the weekend, taking it nice and easy. I won’t bore you with what I do too much, but I can assure that these occasional breaks are necessary to maintain an acceptable level of sanity. What is interesting, however, is that I decided to spend the fist half the break (Thursday) at a Theme Park. Originally, I was planning on spending both days enjoying one of the many options for the great spa breaks in England. But, naturally I had booked the time off with only the vaguest of vague ideas of exactly what I was going to do, let alone having booked anything. Then for some reason, Alton Towers sprang to mind from out of the blue. I’m not sure if I had been a subconscious victim to some kind of subliminal advertising campaign, but I just had this enormous urge to go to Alton Towers. Not just any old theme park, mind you; it had to be Alton Towers.
It probably all started when I had Grieg’s The Hall of the Mountain King stuck in my head at work. Duh duh duh duh duh duuuuh, oh that’s a hard one to try and transcribe into text, but I’m 100% sure you’ll know it anyway. It’s one of those infectious little pieces of neo-Classical music that have been picked up on by business and transformed into a marketing tool. Anyway, before I knew it I had been surfing the net and already booked one of the great many fantastic Alton Towers hotel deals. So, I spent the Thursday at a theme park on my own. So what? It was fun. The Friday was a great way to finish the whole experience; swim, steam bath, sauna. Amazing. Plus I didn’t have the burden of having to drag other people around with me at Alton Towers. Go and try it! Ok, it was a bit weird, but I don’t think anybody noticed I was on my own, anyway.