Chessington, Surrey, England, UK – Saturday, June 5th, 2010

The odd thing about Chessington World of Adventures is that it may easily be the best park in the greater London area, yet this comparison is not realized during the actual visit but maybe days, months or years later. It’s the neglected middle child between the tough, show-offy bigger brother in Thorpe Park and the adorable bouncing baby that doesn’t actually do anything yet in Legoland Windsor, yet Chessington is able to combine the best features of both while bumping the average quality level just a notch or two higher as well. It’s got the large scale rides that even offer some forms of narrative that Thorpe has, and the detailed themed zones and attractive environment that Legoland tries to achieve. It helps that neither of Chessington’s Merlin siblings are particularly decent contenders for many ‘best-of’ categories anyway.

If I were completely honest with myself I would have to call my first ride, the suspended Vampire roller coaster, the most fun of the London-area coasters… and possibly by extension my favorite, although I wouldn’t be completely comfortable to reach the rest of the way and call it the best. (Yes, there’s a difference between these descriptors; ‘most fun’ implies an instantaneous positive internal state of emotion in reaction-to, ‘favorite’ implies a reflected upon personally subjective relationship-with, and ‘best’ implies a universally categorical measurement after rational analysis.) The Vampire is a very organic ride, one that allows time to breathe while it progresses simply and naturally, and I was always simultaneously aware of my surroundings while most of the time lost in its own world and unable to predict where we would veer next. It’s not a layout that’s a sequence of elements or individualized moments, but just a continuous state of being from dispatch to return.

Good things begin in the station, which as a surprisingly large and atmospheric soundstage chocked full of lighting effects, props, and a large animatronic set piece of the Count playing a rock-styled fugue on the organ, sets the Grand Guignol mood for the Vampire and at the very least tells us the resources spent on this ride were intended for a first-class experience. Of course after we’re loaded into the suspended floorless cars introduced by Vekoma after the 2002 season we exit the story dark castle into the broad daylight that figuratively kills any vampire association the ride had going for it (thankfully Chessington made the wise choice not to make the cars sparkle in the sunlight instead).

At the top of the first lift is a shallow descent with a double s-bend that snakes through the trees and supports to ground level, where we then spiral back up and get an odd, kinked s-curve at the top. Many of the curves on the Vampire seem to have long lead-ins with very abrupt, sharp turns, often continuing for a couple of radii before leveling out again. While this admittedly primitive design style might have had uncomfortable results in a traditional sitdown configuration, in this case it serves to set the seats in motion in unpredictable ways, the free-swinging car design cushioning any distasteful lateral G’s. We make another descending curve that leads into a long ground-level run that with the floorless cars swaying back and forth just a few inches above can be quite thrilling. We slide into the brake run and start the second ascent.

The second half of the ride is similar to the first but with a few bolder, dramatic flourishes, starting with the much steeper (relatively speaking) first drop that sends us between some building and then out high over the midway, another kinked s-curve running alongside the Transylvanian themed building edifice. Rather than dive back down we continue back into the forest at treetop level, making one jabbing slight bend back and forth, not seeming to go anywhere in particular until the last turn ends with a sharp extended dive into underground tunnel (more like a covered trench, but who’s counting? It’s a unique treat for a suspended coaster no matter how you look at it.) I always thought this was the grand finale of the ride but once we emerge it throws more at us with another kinked turn over some track, twisting back to ground level where an extended, grass-clipping rush back to the castle is eventually met with a final brake run.

It’s darn near impossible to keep this meandering layout memorized, which was one of the things I enjoyed about it; each new ride offered new surprises, and I still to this day couldn’t begin to draw you an overhead diagram of the track configuration, something I’m unable to do with extremely few coasters. The forested setting serves not only to disorient, but on no less than four or five occasions the foliage grew so close that my feet would actually scrape against them (normally at low speeds). A rather sobering experience especially without a fixed vehicle pathway, and I’m just a fairly average 5’ 10”. All of these traits taken together are what makes it such a fun, ‘organic’ experience, the over-the-top theatricality of the station and two-part ride layout leading up to the ‘big finish’ perfectly compliment and balance the quirky, antiquated simplicity of the rest of the ride, and in the end make it my favorite Arrow suspended coaster. It’s a gem; I hope Chessington never loses it.¹

Only with two rides under my belt the Vampire was already starting to attract a lengthy queue so I decided to move onto greener pastures. Thus I joined the line for the Rattlesnake, a Maurer Söhne wild mouse with a fairly impressive southwestern theme. Generally when assessing a park’s ride line-up I write off the wild mice as negligible supporting actors and I think of Chessington as having only two big rides (Vampire and Dragon’s Fury), but truth be told Rattlesnake should rank up there as one of the park’s top dogs. The layout’s nowhere near as interesting as the other big coasters in the park but the setting (partially buried in a pit with lots of ‘mine-shaft’ tunnels and other props woven through the support structure) and overall intensity gives this critter as potent a bite as bats and dragons are capable of. Also, the queue throughout the entire day ranged from five minutes to walk-on, always a plus given the strong crowd turnout this Saturday that clogged many lesser attractions throughput. I suspect much of that had to do with the 56” height restriction, an odd regulation given Chessington is a family park and few other mice at larger thrill parks are as severe anyway. Perhaps they should have contracted with Mack instead, even if that would have meant a more expensive project quote?

While I probably should have ventured on to Dragon’s Fury before the queue got to full size I didn’t feel like knocking out all three major coasters back-to-back at the start of my visit and instead decided to explore other parts of the park instead. Nearer the entrance (which I will note is surprisingly quaint and unassuming given the elaborate themed worlds present elsewhere throughout the park) was part of the Chessington Zoo. I think the full zoo was much larger than the park near the main midways I saw, but I still spent a couple of minutes getting snapsnots of resident otters and penguins, whom had other visitors cooing in adoration. A Sea-Life aquarium was also present but it appeared incredibly low-budget, just a small tent (with a queue for the privilege of entrance).

Following the midway along the right, the Ramses Revenge HUSS Top Spin looked promising with extensive landscape work buried partway down a pit (plus it was the only ride in Chessington that promised to turn riders upside-down, making it a bit of an anatopism in the park’s otherwise family-oriented environ) however it appeared to get rides thoroughly soaked due to several water geysers, and I had already showered once that day. Instead I entered the queue for a dark ride known as the Tomb Blaster, which I was a bit skeptical towards after an unfavorable experience with Legoland’s similarly themed Laser Raiders and figured if Legoland was unable to succeed with one of their major attractions then surely Chessington would do no better when it was of much less significance to the overall park, but was pleased to find the opposite. A continuously moving linked vehicle system meant that there was no wait to speak of, and the queue was a much more impressive multi-story pathway over bridges and through tunnels rather than cramped inside a hot tent. I wouldn’t call the ride anything earth shattering but compared to Legoland’s it was by many leagues the superior; much larger, more detailed sets that were built with full 3D models. A gigantic neon-glowing cobra near the end was a particular highlight, plus my gun worked well enough to get me a score higher than 200-300.

In the far back corner of the park the Mystic East section contains one of Chessington’s more notable themed attractions, the Dragon Falls log flume. Set beneath a dense green canopy, this exceptionally landscaped flume was popular with the guests, and well-received by this reviewer. Not quite as tall or long as some of the similarly inspired classic American flumes but with a couple unique tunnels and props, the ride had a fun, meandering layout without being unnecessarily wet. Most amusing was the detailed dragon mouth formed around the head of a tunnel immediately following the first splashdown. Next door was the Peeking Heights observation wheel, quite tiny compared to London’s more famous wheel, but still offering a decent overhead vista of a park that otherwise offers few opportunities to peer above the treetops.

Along the furthest rim of Chessington is their new-for-2010 land, Wild Asia, which I am told is a replacement of the former (and almost insulting-sounding) Beanoland. I’m not sure if another Asian themed section was really necessary when the Mystic East and Land of the Dragons were already present, but I’ve read that this represents the first phase of Chessington’s attempt to expand and retheme the entire park to different continents around the world. I’m not sure if those plans are still on the table, but especially if this new area is the template for future projects, I hope they’ll reconsider or at least revise. I honestly found this area to be the least impressive of Chessington’s many themed areas, not because it showed the least amount of effort or capital put into it, but because it all seemed so… grey. Although a very monotone color palate with only the natural foliage providing a splash of anything more vibrant, what caused this retheme to suffer the most was that it seemed to take itself more seriously than any of the earlier lands in Chessington. Elsewhere in the park you had jellybean colors and a cartoon-like whimsy, aware that these worlds of adventure were fictions of the imagination and proud of it. Even if they don’t completely escape my criticism of themed attractions, you at least got the sense that they were supposed to be fun and fake.

Wild Asia on the other hand seems like the most direct attempt to simulate something authentic, and even if they are able to put more color in other redeveloped continents, this isn’t the direction I’d like to see the rest of the park go. Perhaps I would have been more favorable to the area if I actually tried out any of the rides, but the only two attractions suitable for adults I could locate were the Monkey Swinger (a standard chair swing with geysers that soak riders mid-ride; no thank you, I don’t like getting soaked on rides especially when water is not integral to its operation), and the Kobra, a Zamperla Disk’o Coaster and only all-new ride built for the land. I joined the queue for all of two minutes before I estimated I’d be waiting in line for at least a half hour, and as I hadn’t been particularly enamored with an identical attraction at Miragica earlier that spring I decided my time would be better spent on other pursuits. I made a quick trip through Lorikeet Lagoon, where a number of brightly colored avians awaited for me to take their photographs.

In need of a lunch, I scouted out a pizza and pasta buffet near the front of the park that was offering an all-you-can-eat-and-drink deal for only £8.25 that my Merlin pass discounted even further to near £6.50; to a traveling college student capable of an unlimited appetite when given the chance, this is called hitting the jackpot, and I surprised me deeply that one of the best meal deals I’d come across in the UK would be found in a corporate theme park of all places. Walking out stuffed enough to make sure I had gotten every pence’s worth just in case, I needed to take time out for a slower attraction and so chose the Runaway Train, a Mack Blauer Enzian. These powered coasters are much more prevalent around Europe than the States and I’m rather glad for that as they’re generally not very good rides that have poor capacity and also start debates over whether they count towards lists or not. I’m of the opinion that they do, which is actually rather unfortunate as it meant that I was stuck in line for nearly a half hour just to add this credit to my list. The best that can be said for these powered coasters is if they include some nice scenery; in this case some tight fits through fake rocky crevices and dark caverns are featured, although that far from makes it peers with Big Thunder Mountain.

Dragon’s Fury was another attraction I would have to wait between 30-45 minutes for every time I wanted a ride, although it manages slightly better hourly throughput. Slightly. I guess when you’re alone in a park and only wanting to ride rides you developed a heightened awareness towards operating inefficiencies, and I was slightly peeved to find not only single seats sent out empty which I would have been pleased to fill, but often an entire half of a ride vehicle, and the dispatch times were not scheduled as soon as the first block opened up which it should have. It also lacks the Wardley showmanship present in the Vampire, the queue a mess of outdoor switchbacks leading to an open-air station with a flat shoebox roof on top. However, once harnessed in and speeding up the lift it becomes a ride as good as, if not better than the Vampire (however still my ‘favorite’ by a slim margin), and while I wouldn’t call it this myself, I could understand the argument for best spinning coaster in the world I’ve heard others put forth.

The experience starts out in high gear with a steep, twisting first drop and the switch locking the spinning motion flipped right at the top. The pullout greets us with a tricky little s-curve made more effective with the spinning cars, and then flying up at 90° around a wall turn. Depending on how the spinning has you oriented this can be a really wild element or not very noticeable (the curvature is designed to neutralize the pull of gravity for the riders so you don’t feel much unless you’ve got a good rotational effect), but it’s certainly a plenty intimidating opener from off-ride and gets the kids screaming.

Rather than constrain itself to a compact area as is the case with nearly all other spinning coasters, Maurer Söhne was given the liberty to design a sprawling layout that threads around the outside perimeter of the Land of the Dragons and doesn’t feature many crossovers. The next element is a long straight incline to the first block brake, where a straight drop with a hint of airtime greets us on the other end. This unfortunately is followed only by another shallow incline into a second block brake run, a mild and anticlimactic follow up to the dynamic first section. Too soon, and not even justified if they’re not dispatching cars every 20 seconds. I wondered for a moment if Maurer would have been better with a more constrained footprint.

I had my answer with a very tight, spiraling drop-off that really set the spinning of the car in motion, which we were able to sustain over the camelback hill and ascent into the third block brake that follows. It was interesting for me to note that by now we were quite a far distance from the station, an odd feeling to have when most compact coasters with multi-block segments normally remain within visual distance of home; the bit of knowledge that we’re well beyond sight or sound of the operators lends greater weight to the experience and the satisfaction that we’re accomplishing something. Now it’s time to turn around and head home.

From the third brake run we got another descending helix, this one shallower and with a wider girth than the previous, but that just means for time for spinning. They’re again eager to halt the proceedings with another blocking segment, this one a second lift hill intended more for horizontal transport than vertical altitude gain. For the rest of the layout Maurer Söhne seem to be ad-libbing track in order to get through a narrow strip of land between a row of buildings and an arterial midway. If the results aren’t exactly inspired, they’re at least made more effective with the unpredictable spinning cars that react uniquely to each random slight, shimmy and double up. No pretensions of a grand finale are made before it abruptly finds a conclusion, and overall the rather sporadic, disorganized nature of the layout, lengthy and fun as it is, prevents me from admiring it quite as highly as the Vampire. However, make no doubts about it, Chessington is home to two of the best family thrill coasters in their class, and I hope other parks are taking notes on the Dragon’s Fury when they decide to build their own coaster for the 8-13 age range.

Wanting to finish the short visit where it began I went to the Vampire, where after a five minute wait it reopened from a breakdown. Scored one ride lickety split and still had 45 minutes till closing so I should have been able to fit two more in easily. Except on the second time around, not only had the rest of the crowds mobbed the queue resulting in a long backup outside the station platform, but once inside the station I was forced to contend with 5-minute dispatch intervals and instant-access ‘reserved seating’ not once but twice. Consequently, not only was I unable to get my expected second lap before the gates closed, but I was made so late that I missed my intended train and had to wait around the station for another thirty-five minutes on top of that.

Why is it that all the Merlin parks I’d go to would seem grossly incompetent at managing the attendance turnout they’ve been blessed with, such that even on what should be an off-peak day I’m still made to feel like it’s an uphill battle to get everything I want done in a day before they’re shooing us out the gate before the dinner hour has even started? Part of it might be due to operational inefficiencies, but the larger contributing cause seems to be an inability to build parks and attractions large enough to meet the demand due to local regulations. In terms of attendance Chessington is a fairly big park, roughly half the figures of Six Flags Great Adventure or Magic Mountain, yet they only have three full-sized coasters and a small handful of other flat, dark and water rides that they can distribute those crowds between… and the situation is even worse over at Legoland Windsor. Not allowed to build outward and upward at the rate they ought to be able to, they’re not even permitted the far simpler task to stay open long enough such that visitors will feel like they’ve gotten their full ticket value out of their stay before going home. What’s sad about this is that it’s not an entirely bad arrangement for the park operators (especially when every other park in the country is facing the same constraints), as it seems this gives Merlin the ability to turn a profit without having the same competitive pressure felt by international operations; the paying visitors are the biggest losers in this arrangement. Chessington would have been a genuinely pleasant surprise if not for the frustration over long lines for middle-sized rides, yet rather than turn me off from another visit, this arrangement made me more likely to return to complete the fulfillment of all that I thought was good but had missed (or didn’t get enough of) on the first day. Although I might be alone in those sentiments, as the impression I got from most of the other patrons in queue was that these crowds and queues were what they expected, and even to a degree what they wanted, as if queuing is part of the British genome that they receive base pleasures from. I had plenty more parks ahead of me to test this theory with.

[1] From what I’ve heard that’s unlikely because after they built the Vampire the city council decided they never should have let them build something as big and noisy, and so if it were to be removed they could only replace it with something much smaller, which Chessington would obviously be unwilling to do voluntarily unless absolutely necessary. I sorta wish the same restrictions were in place at Busch Gardens Williamsburg or Everland, that way the Big Bad Wolf might not have been replaced with a goddamn drop tower eyesore.

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