It’s me or him, I say to myself. I’m first in line at the Tami Tami rollercoaster, so the coveted first carriage is mine – as long as I can fend off the antsy guy behind me who’s vying for it too. As the rollercoaster clatters back to its starting point, the passengers stagger off and the gate flings open, I sprint forward like Usain Bolt, my eyes on the prize.
But I stop. And let the antsy guy behind me swoop forward and claim victory. He is about eight years old, I remind myself, and this is a childrens’ rollercoaster, so taking the front would be diabolical. But that’s not easy to remember when my inner child is well and truly out to play.
I’m in PortAventura World, a leading European adventure park that’s an hour’s drive south of Barcelona, and blessed with Catalonia’s year-round blue skies that range from mild to sizzling.
Two and a half times the size of Emerald Park and attracting over five million visitors a year, it feels less of a theme park and more of a theme world, especially as the rides are convincingly divided up into lands. I’m in SésamoAventura, the kiddie section of PortAventura, found near Polynesia (studded with tiki carvings, jungle and thatched-roof huts) and Mediterrània (kitted out as a Catalan fishing village).
Linked to PortAventura are Caribe Water Park and Ferrari Land, two distinct parks that make it worth spending an extra few days, especially if you have children. I don’t – it’s just me and my partner here on Tami Tami.
See, I have a whale of a time on fairground rides with nieces and nephews, but with no children of my own to provide an excuse, it’s been decades since I was last let loose in a dedicated theme park.
I became determined to go after a few alchemic signs: firstly, my partner and his daughter returned from Energylandia in Poland and he raved about it as much as she did. Then a colleague revealed her plans to visit Disney World in Florida with her fiance, reminding me of the celebrities who’ve been spotted in theme parks with adults-only groups: James Acaster (as he discusses in the Off Menu podcast), Blake Lively and Orlando Bloom for starters.
The more I dug into it, the less weird it felt to go without children – Europa Park in Germany has a two-Michelin star restaurant, Ammolite, as a shining example of an adult-first theme park experience. Plus, aren’t wellbeing experts always saying that playfulness is an important factor in deep-seated happiness as an adult?
Cut to a few months later, and that’s why I’m in the second carriage of Tami Tami, more nervous than I should be given the average age of the clientele. Thus far, my partner and I have soaked up the atmosphere and splashes on the Silver River Flume, and had a go at the dolphin races where I magnanimously conceded a cuddly toy (okay fine, I lost). With Tami Tami, I’m finally limbering up to the rollercoaster category in the gentlest of ways. But since my last time, I’ve acquired the biggest curse of adulthood: anxiety.
My brain starts doing the calculations. How much do I trust these machines? Don’t these things break all the time? How robust are European health and safety laws really? Thankfully, the light swerves and curves are exactly the pleasant adrenaline rush I need to get out of my head and back in the game.
From there, it barely stops. More at ease with being an adult in a kids’ world, I leap on to the full range of rollercoasters, almost keeling over with nerves as I queue but raring to return as I finish. Over the course of the weekend, I learn to navigate my way around the park, guided by the giant-sized recreations of Angkor statues, or following the caramel scent of popcorn, or the thunderous swoosh of Dragon Khan, which curves and entwines its way through the China area of PortAventura, which is convincingly adorned with minimalist red, white and black aesthetic, finished with gold detailing.
The care with which the different areas have been created is an endless source of fascination. Staying in an on-site hotel in the Far West, my daily walk is down a dusty road lined with gold-rush era brick buildings, cacti and rock boulders. It’s uncannily like being in a country and western movie.
Now unfazed by peer pressure, I’m not brave enough to try the Red Force in Ferrari Land, Europe’s tallest and fastest rollercoaster. Hell no. But as we walk past Furius Baco, a rollercoaster that intermittently thunders across the gleaming lake in Mediterrània, my partner pulls us into the queue, and I agree to it without researching it (take that, anxiety). That’s how I find out in real time that it’s Europe’s second fastest rollercoaster, speeding from 0 to 135km/h in just three seconds. As if in a cartoon, the ride is like a giant catapult that leaves my outline and my screams at the start, and just keeps twisting and turning until the abrupt end, when I’m quickly booted out, feeling … a little violated, frankly.
Since my theme park days as a teen, a surprising amount has evolved. Fast track queues are everywhere, a lamentable reflection of the two-tier system that operates in society at large. The concept of dark rides (indoor rides) are now a thing, and best experienced with Uncharted, a mile-a-minute turbo-waltzer with the speed of a rollercoaster, and a bonus of never being sure which direction we’re going in next. Being inside, it’s a reprieve from the sun in the scorching heat, and also comes in useful when a freak downpour catches us vest-and-shorts adventurers by surprise.
Tech is teching here too. The theme park’s app helpfully shows wait times at each of the attractions. And El Diablo: Mine Train is my first time on a mixed reality ride. For €6 extra, I strap on an augmented reality headset and am ushered to the front carriage, where creatures that protect the abandoned mine appear with every twist and turn. As we trundle through, a floating island appears suspended in the sky, dragons swoop over my head, and in the grand finale, we’re swallowed whole into a serpent’s mouth. It’s so exhilarating I forget to be scared.
Thankfully, we’re not the only grown-ups here. Couples pass each other with a look of quiet solidarity, and groups of twenty-somethings roam the park unchecked. On the Grand Canyon Rapids, we share a raft with a family of four from Belfast. “I also came here with the lads, before the kids were born,” says dad James. “It was brilliant. We rode what we wanted and split off when we felt like it.” It’s hard to say whether his misty eyes are from the spray of the rapids, or something else entirely.
Once I leave the gates of PortAventura and wind up the Catalonian coast to the airport, I can safely say I loved the exuberance that comes with unleashing my inner child. And it’s double the fun when I also have the benefits of being an adult – namely my own money, and the ability to run riot without being told off.
Primal scream therapy is said to benefit us as it gives permission to release emotions and stress in a healthy way. Well, try screaming at the top of your lungs, on a loop-de-loop, on a gloriously sunny day, heart beating from the adrenalin rush. My, does the stress dissipate.
It’s also a joy to shake off my adult seriousness, something I know I don’t do often enough. In that gated world, instead of worrying about how to diplomatically word emails or formatting presentations neatly, I showed no shame in wanting to meet the Cookie Monster (between us, it was a holiday highlight), or queuing up for ice cream with people half my height.
I leave convinced that playful fun shouldn’t feel indulgent or defiant. We adults should still find delight in rollercoasters – perhaps it’s just about knowing when to let an eight-year-old go first.
Shilpa Ganatra was a guest of PortAventura World.
How to get there: Park entry for adults starts from €34, visit portaventuraworld.com to book. Ryanair and Vueling fly from Dublin to Barcelona, from €72 return. Ryanair fly from Cork to Barcelona, from €62 return.