Celebrating Nick's Birthday at Legoland! [photojournal]
There are many benefits to dating an
engineer; they’re helpful when your technology fails, they know the
ins-and-outs of your DSLR because they bothered to read the manual, and they
give you a perfectly valid reason to visit Legoland (sans children).
Nicholas turned 26 on June 24th,
and we’d organised to be at the Lego theme park for his birthday. He woke up, complaining that he was now
closer to 30 than 20, and we head off in the direction of the theme park.
We had opted to stay in the nearby campsite
and Holiday Village, because it meant that we could be walking distance to the
park, without blowing our entire budget on accommodation. We were probably the only ones in a compact
wild camping-style tent, though, and were surrounded by huge caravans with detachable
awnings bigger than our entire apartment back in Melbourne. It had decent facilities (I’d forgotten that
some people camp with flushable toilets and showers), but this one was all
about location.
I was psyched for rollercoasters, because I
grew up in a theme park Mecca on the Gold Coast. Nicholas was immediately enthralled by the
MiniLand, where famous canals (including Bryggen in Bergen, where we were a
month ago, and Nyhavn in Copenhagen) were recreated in miniature, with moving
people, ferries, cars and trains. Some
even had detailed lock systems. He would
later spend hours (literally hours) recording and documenting the movements,
analysing how they’d been put together and how they stuck to their path without
tracks.
We’d purchased a two-day ticket for
Legoland – knowing that one day wouldn’t sate Nicholas’ Lego-love – and were
back for round two the following day.
From 10 ‘til 8 on both days, we wandered around the park, going on
rides, taking pictures of all manner of Lego constructions, eating ice cream
and weaving through masses and masses of children.
Ah, the children of Legoland. We’d not been in the park for very long at
all when I began to feel the tell-tale tickle in the back of my throat. I got hit with a pretty nasty flu and spent
both nights in our tent coughing and spluttering and sneezing and drinking
litres of orange juice.
(sorry for all the very touristy, family-photo-album-esque pictures!)
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