Mobius loops and bunny hops

Lucy Kenningham on why there’s still nothing better than a wooden rollercoaster

Grand National is the only surviving twin-track roller coaster in Britain in which two cars race against one another

1935 was a different Britain. Stanley Baldwin became prime minister, the country celebrated George V’s silver jubilee, the first steel was produced from new works at Corby. The driving test was introduced; Penguin Books launched, ushering in the era of mass printed novels; the Kit Kat was invented. And up on the north west coast, in the mainstay of the textiles industry, a thriving beach town got yet another attraction to add to its newly bustling Pleasure Park.

The Grand National ride at Blackpool Pleasure Beach (BPB) opened to great fanfare: it featured an astonishingly innovative ‘Mobius loop’ design, treating those who dared to experience the thrill of 195 degree bends, a series of small hills known to the initiated as “bunny hops”, rattling boards and dips. Along a single 3400 foot track, two competing trains appear as if by magic to switch lanes. It was seen as a revolutionary new ride and one of the most exciting new rollercoasters in the world. Internationally-renowned British architect Joseph Emberton – the earliest home grown modernist architect – was employed by the Park owners to bring unity. Art deco and the clean lines preferred by the avant garde architects of the day brought a radical sleekness to the park’s aesthetic. This was modern living.

“The Grand National’s my favourite,” Michael, who describes himself as a “low level manager” at The Park, tells me. “But then, I like the history.” Lewis, a young man who is working on the desk, also favours the Grand National. “It’s the only one where you can race your friends,” he says.

But today, the Grand National is closed. The Park has been reluctant to publicly comment on its future, and the modernist building campaigners at the Twentieth Century Society (C20) has just this month placed the unique structure on its latest ‘At Risk List’, of buildings that are in danger of being demolished.

Blackpool was once synonymous with the Great British seaside holiday – an experience we created on these selfsame shores. But today, it is one of the most deprived towns in the UK. A staggering 25% of its residents are on benefits and it has one of the highest rates of antidepressant use in the country. A 2017 analysis by the Financial Times showed a huge outflow of healthy working-age people, and an inflow of ill, unemployed people.

Cheap overseas holidays have made Blackpool a less enchanting destination in some eyes than it was in decades past, and without another industry to offer jobs, the tourism industry remains its lifeline.

Founded in 1896 by AWG Bean to “make adults feel like children again and inspire gaiety of a primarily innocent character,” nowadays the park is an odd mix of old and new. Nickelodeon-themed rides sit alongside early 20th century wooden coasters. Art deco builds of the Wes Anderson appeal sit alongside garish plastic games. A cafe sells hot dogs and cider,. Pop music pummels the park without mercy. On the day of my visit, there are few visitors. The large gift shop is full of tat like ‘The Big One’ underpants and ‘Grand National’ slippers. A teenager dressed all in black slumps morbidly on the steps outside in incongruous sunlight.