Vertigo Amongst the Conkers
The prize for the most terrifying feature in London must surely go to the 'Sky Ring' at Kew Gardens. This is a raised walkway that circumnavigates a group of tall trees. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to go up there and take a look. I climbed all the stairs with some trepidation as I have a fear of heights. I finally reached the top and had the first of many attacks of vertigo. I was unable to go back down as I had been followed up by a load of grannies and children who were clomping up the stairs behind me - a kind of momentum had built up. I stepped out onto the platform, which was made of a steel mesh grill. Unfortunately, you could see right through this to the ground, eight-storeys below. I might as well have been walking on a sheet of glass. Involuntarily, I must have gasped because one of the grannies turned and said, "Oright, luv?" I smiled weakly and clung onto the steel wall. Then I thought, if the grannies and kids could do it, I surely could, too! So, defying my shredded nerves, I took my first faltering steps. The ground below immediately rushed up to meet me, and just above my head, leaves fluttered: I was in the top reaches of a frigging chestnut tree for god's sake!
Children up ahead jumped up and down on the metal platform - clung-clung-clung-clung - as I clung, clung, clung desperately to the wall of the walkway. Didn't they realise they might bust right through that paper-thin metal? Fearless little bastards!
I stepped forward again. I found that if I kept my eyes on a fixed point ahead of me along the sky-path as it wended its way through the treetops I was less pole-axed with terror. I walked on. I began to feel a little better - cocky, even. Halfway around the terror trail I even managed to glance over the edge of the wall at the tiny people scattered below. I wondered whether anyone had ever used this structure as a means of suicide: it would certainly be a picturesque way to go - plummeting through the prickly conkers of a chestnut tree and bouncing around its branches to smash onto the sandy pathway below: I had briefly considered tossing one of the bleating, fearless children overboard, who were even now still trampolining their way along the metal bridge. I thought they were probably the kind of kids who would unbuckle their safety belts and stand up on a roller coaster.
At the end of the hell-bridge I clambered shakily down the see-through stairs and made it safely to the ground. Perhaps the London Eye is not an option I should take next week after all. My terrified screams would echo all along the South Bank!
Children up ahead jumped up and down on the metal platform - clung-clung-clung-clung - as I clung, clung, clung desperately to the wall of the walkway. Didn't they realise they might bust right through that paper-thin metal? Fearless little bastards!
I stepped forward again. I found that if I kept my eyes on a fixed point ahead of me along the sky-path as it wended its way through the treetops I was less pole-axed with terror. I walked on. I began to feel a little better - cocky, even. Halfway around the terror trail I even managed to glance over the edge of the wall at the tiny people scattered below. I wondered whether anyone had ever used this structure as a means of suicide: it would certainly be a picturesque way to go - plummeting through the prickly conkers of a chestnut tree and bouncing around its branches to smash onto the sandy pathway below: I had briefly considered tossing one of the bleating, fearless children overboard, who were even now still trampolining their way along the metal bridge. I thought they were probably the kind of kids who would unbuckle their safety belts and stand up on a roller coaster.
At the end of the hell-bridge I clambered shakily down the see-through stairs and made it safely to the ground. Perhaps the London Eye is not an option I should take next week after all. My terrified screams would echo all along the South Bank!
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