So I’m in Brooklyn with a friend, Tony, to attend another friend’s wedding. On Friday, the day before the wedding Tony and I took the subway down to Coney Island.
It was odd to be in New York and be at the beach. Even though I know NY is at the coast I never really associate it with the beach. As a beach resort Coney Island has seen better days. It was a bit like a run down British seaside town, but warmer and playing more on its history.
I’d not previously realised that Tony is a bit of a rollercoaster enthusiast. He was keen to go on The Cyclone, the old wooden rollercoaster there. I was less keen as it looked a bit rickety but macho pride ensured I joined him. We sat at the front and we were both surprised how intense it was. I’d thought that being from the early 20th century it might be fairly tame.
We went on a second time and sat right at the back. That was much much worse. We were both thrown around a lot and it wasn’t fun at all. I got winded and hurt my back early on. I was in real pain. After the ride and for the rest of the day my back really hurt. I was concerned I might have done some proper damage.
I soon also discovered that my mobile phone, which was in my pocket, had got broken as the screen had cracked as I was pushed against the safety bar.
My tip, only go on it once and sit at the front.