Luna Park and The Scenic Railway

(The entrance to Luna Park; the gaping mouth of a disgruntled clown. If that's not a warning sign, I don't know what is: Michael Lowe)

A couple nights after I returned to Melbourne, I met a girl shooting photos on the same bridge as me. Her name was Virginia and she lived in St. Kilda (a beachside suburb of Melbourne) although she was born in Connecticut. She was the first American I had met, so I was pretty excited. Everyone else was mostly English, Aussies or New Zealanders.
Virginia (or Gin, as she liked to be called) worked for a corporate printer (whatever that means) and before we went our separate ways, she left me with a bit of information, “Luna Park, in St. Kilda, has one of the oldest roller coasters still in operation. It’s called The Scenic Railway.” Then she paused. “But don’t go on it unless you’re really comfortable with yourself.” I looked at her. Surely a rollercoaster built in the 1910s couldn’t be that terrifying.
“It’s not because of the drops or the loops, but because it feels like it’s going to fall apart any second.” That made more sense. I discovered that the Melbourne icon was built in 1912 and is the longest continuously running roller coaster not just in Australia, but the world and one of only two coasters in the world that still requires a brakesman to stand in the middle of the train and control when it stops.
When I arrived at St. Kilda via Tram 16, Luna Park was too big to ignore. A gaudy paint job, flashing lights and a random assortment of thrill rides reminded me of any State Fair or the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. Needless to say, between Gin’s tactful warning and the $8 ticket price, I decided to pass on what seemed like a sure trip to the chiropractor.

(Just inside the entrance was a miniature sled park which was actually a publicity stunt for a mountain resort: Michael Lowe)

(Who wouldn't want to ride on the tentacles of a freaky octopus wearing a top hat?: Michael Lowe)

(The iconic Scenic Railway: Michael Lowe)