Ok I admit it. I totally wimped out during our trip to the London Dungeons yesterday. With scenes of torture making up the scenery and a boat ride through Traitor’s Gate to my own ‘execution’, it was enough to have me cowering with fear, my face buried into my friend’s jacket sleeve. Some of it was rather disturbing, I just couldn’t understand how a human could boil another alive or rip their tongue out but I guess those were dark times and I may never understand.
The adrenalin of it all and the presence of the rather comical live actors (drama college students I suspect) made it an enjoyable day. The Anne Robinson waxwork in the ‘Wicked Women’ section is worth the trip alone. Having her in the same room as Boadicea and other nasty ladies was quite funny.
The London Dungeons are not for the extremely faint hearted though so leave your wimpy friends and family at home.
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I could make this into a really good advert for Gortex jackets – the material is so strong that even with friends hanging onto it for life, it still doesn’t rip!
Thanks for the loan of your sleeve!
Hey,
Nice Blog….. Liked reading it. Will try and visit again… Good luck.
Saima I am terribly disappointed! I thought you were made of sterner stuff, meanwhile you’re hiding your eyes at the sight of wax statues and wailing ghosties and ghoulies.
Come on, woman! Let’s show some backbone for jolly old England and Queen and Country and all that. What would Biggles have done in the same situation, you should ask yourself.
Biggles would have cried, so there!
wot kinda crap website is this
That’s strange, you hate the site yet you took the time to leave a comment. Something doesn’t add up!
I am surprised that you liked london dungeons, me and a friend of mine at uni (my campus- Guy’s Campus just behind london bridge station) went there ran around like headless chickens scared of what might pop out of the holes in the walls of beautifully builts sets and then had a round of humiliation by the comical live actors , you remember the plague girl who took valuables from dead bodies during the plague she asked us to lift our arms so she could smell our pits, nobody would so we hung around that dipping cellar for a quarter of an hour. Oh the wonders of wasting a tenner for a realistic smell musty smell.
Nice weblog btw.
TC
Dahab