Rita
- Queen of Speed, Alton Towers
There was a time when Alton Towers was known for coming up
with brilliantly original names for rides. Why use a hackneyed old cliché
like “Cyclone” or “Revolution” when you can use “Nemesis”
and “Oblivion”? Times have changed since then, and it now seems that
the park’s creative department has confused the concepts of
“brilliantly original” and “downright daft”. If it was a touch
surreal to use the non-descript syllable “Air”, the park has
excelled itself with near nonsensical “Rita: Queen of Speed”. It
seems that the park is determined to wrestle the title of “worst ride
name” away from Blackpool Pleasure Beach, which gave us the dual
atrocities of “PlayStation: The Ride” and “Bling”.
Of
course, there is a rationale behind naming your new Intamin rocket
coaster after a Coronation Street shopkeeper but, as with the Nemesis
legend, there seems little urgency to explain anything to Joe Public.
The official explanation is that in the American sport of Hot-Rod
racing, it is apparently traditional for racers to give their cars
female names. At this point, I wish to remind you that I never said
there was a GOOD reason to call the ride Rita, just that there was a
reason. It remains likely that there is some sort of private joke behind
the name, as it seems implausible that the idea got through the entire
Tussaud’s system without someone pointing out that it is possibly the
most charmless name of all time.
Even
at its most basic level, it seems a great shame for a park that has
often excelled in creating unusual themes should go for the most
screamingly obvious idea for a launch coaster, namely motorsport. Even
less appealing is that this most quintessentially British of theme parks
should be seeking to theme its rides around American imagery,
particularly given the horrendous clashes it creates with the cartoon
caveman theme of the existing Ug Land rides. Attempts have been made to
suggest that this is some sort of bizarre prehistoric form of motorsport,
but this is monumentally half-hearted.
But
what of the ride itself? Intamin’s hydraulically powered rocket
coasters have been a huge hit, offering a launch that is far more
powerful than anything before seen. Generally, the astonishing speeds
attainable with this technology have been seen as an excuse to send
trains to ludicrous heights, breaking the 400ft barrier. Rita, however,
marks a departure from this approach, with the launch instead leading to
a circuit more like a low-rise version of Holiday Park’s Expedition
Ge-Force or Walibi World’s Goliath, featuring a fast flowing layout
that worms its way into every corner of what the park still officially
labels Ug Land, but which now seems to carry the secondary title
“Thunder Rock Rally”.
The
Corkscrew, a ride that once attracted hordes of thrill-seekers from
every corner of the kingdom, now sits literally in the shadow of its
younger sister, with bright red Intamin track cutting across both front
corners of the Vekoma relic. It really is a stark reminder of how far
steel coaster design has advanced in a quarter of a century when you see
the nasty chunky lines of Vekoma’s creation juxtaposed with the
fluidity of Intamin’s work. There’s no shortage of vantage points
from which to view the newer ride, as the whole layout adheres strictly
the Tussaud’s philosophy of allowing punters to get up close and
personal with its coasters. Although not integrated into the landscape
to quite the same extent as Nemesis or Colossus, you can nevertheless
walk around beneath almost the entire layout of the ride, giving ample
opportunity to appreciate it’s astonishing
speed.
Another
sharp contrast is in the sounds the two rides make. While the
Corkscrew’s trains rumble around sounding like a flatulent walrus, the
only sound you’ll hear from Rita is of the “Go! Go! Go!” launch
jingle, and the screams of the riders. The silence is deafening, and is
somehow difficult to accept. In contrast to Nemesis, where the
belligerent roar of the train is integral to the sense of fury that the
ride is designed to encapsulate, Rita seems unsettlingly eerie and
soulless by comparison.
You
may not hear much of the ride, but what you will hear is “TRRR”, or
Thunder Rock Rally Radio. Like the excellent WWTP Radio in Thorpe
Park’s Amity Cove, this is a faux radio station that plays a selection
of classic rock tracks (many with loose connections to the automotive
theme), while a mock-DJ takes calls and generally tries to keep the
crowds entertained. While the music hits the spot, the spoken sections
are abysmal, particularly those where presenter Roxy Stone conducts a
series of tortuously laboured “comedy” interviews that commit the
twin sins of being woefully unfunny, and lasting what seems like forever
and a day. I could write a 10,000 word dissertation on what makes this
so abysmal, but I shall spare you the unabashed torrent of bile that
would inevitable be forthcoming if I were to discuss it any further.
Obviously,
the first thing you will encounter as you head through the giant tyre
that forms the ride’s entrance is the queue line. This must be the
most expansive cattle grid that Tussaud’s has ever built, and makes
for a convoluted and daunting prospect even at the best of times,
especially as it is near impossible for the uninitiated to work out how
far they have to go before they make it to the station. The queue winds
its way along much of what used to be the Corkscrew queue, making it
difficult for first timers to establish exactly who is queuing for which
ride.
As
has become customary for Tussaud’s, as you near the station, the queue
goes from a single file affair to a multi-lane highway of normal queue,
single rider queue, front seat queue, pass holder queue, and God only
knows what else. Be warned – the front seat queue is far longer than
you are led to expect, and makes for very slow progress indeed. Unlike
the architectural wonders that the park’s B&M rides use for
stations, Rita’s open-air platform is modest in the extreme. In fact,
“scaffolding” is the word that best sums it up. On the whole, the
station actually looks distinctly temporary, and you get the impression
that the ride staff are making the best of a pretty bad job.
Rita’s
trains are themed as 1950s hot-rod cars, just to add a bit more
confusion to Ug Land’s muddle of time-zones. Boarding is a very
straightforward affair, which will no doubt be a relief to anyone who
has faced the Herculean task of climbing through the back row of a
Colossus car. The restraints are an odd mix of lap bar and overhead,
with a chunky “cushion” lowering into place, while two stiff rubber
straps arch over your shoulders. The lack of leg-room requires riders to
adopt a curious bolt-upright squat, but on the whole, everything is
perfectly comfy. When all is well, the train shuffles forward slightly,
and the red lights start to countdown to the launch.
3
2
1
Bam.
In
just the blink of an eye you are propelled from 0 to 100. Now I know
what you’re asking, “100 what?”, well that’s one thing the park
isn’t admitting. It could be metres per second, chains per minute, or
light years per microsecond. In fact, it is km/h, but the point is this:
it’s damn fast.
The
acceleration is truly incredible, pinning riders to their seats, and
causing a sensation in pit of the stomach unlike anything any other type
of ride out there. Looking forward at turn 1, there is an instinctive
panic that we seem to be going far too quickly to safely make the turn.
Towards the end of the main straight, the sense of acceleration dies
unexpectedly, and a split second later the train piles into the first
turn. The banking is pretty severe at this point and is one of several
spots on the ride where it is worth bracing yourself to prevent the
restraints becoming a pain in the neck, all too literally.
After
this long high-speed turn, the track rises into a sublime hill, twisting
to the right as it climbs, then propelling riders out of their seats
before diving to the left. A truly stunning start, and one that can only
be given the highest of praise. A left swoop skims the roof of the
Corkscrew station, and sends the train hurtling into a smaller and
equally effective airtime hill. After this fabulous opening gambit,
things unfortunately start to tail off just a little. A swoop to the
right, shadowing almost precisely the first turn, and we’re winding
back across Ug Land toward the station, and a powerful airtime-filled
hop on to the brakes. It’s all very nice while it lasts, but clocking
in at a mere 30 seconds, it’s hard to convince yourself that it was
worth standing in a typically long Alton Towers queue for. Put it this
way: You know a ride is too short when you can look down from the brake
run and see that the next set of riders have yet to make it through the
airgates.
The
most commendable thing about Rita is that it really does give the sort
of turbo-charged ride that a launched coaster should offer. At no point
does it come threaten to run out of steam and revert back to the feeling
of a “normal” coaster. If anything, however, it is just too darned
fast for its own good, particularly given how short the circuit is.
First time out, it is absolutely impossible to take in what is
happening, resulting in an odd sense of having queued for an hour or
more to ride a coaster, only to leave the train having barely noticed
anything that has happened. It’s fantastic while it lasts, but it’s
not exactly fulfilling in the way that Nemesis is. Ironic, given that
television advertisements for the ride’s opening centred on the idea
that it will give you happy memories to cherish in the future, that I
struggled to remember any of it after my first ride.
It’s
not until your second or third ride that you come to notice anything
that happens between the launch and the brakes. After these first few
rides, the novelty of the launch dies off, and you can begin to
concentrate on the rest of the ride, at which point a couple of flaws
become obvious. Despite being such a short ride, the three long
high-speed, low-altitude turns start to become a little dull once the
novelty of the speed wears thin. The turns, while being blisteringly
fast, are long and open, and therefore offer next-to-nothing of the
strong G-forces you would expect from such a super-speedy ride. What you
may have expected Rita to be a physically punishing ride, it turns out
to be nothing of the kind, which is a real shame, particularly after the
G-feast of the launch. A couple of long, tight helices would be just the
ticket to provide these sort of gruelling physical exertions, but
instead all we have is three long forceless turns, two of which are
nigh-on identical.
The
other criticism of Rita is the whole look of the thing. It’s no secret
that Rita was an immense rush job for the park. Whereas Alton Towers’
trio of B&M coasters are the result of years of planning, plans for
Rita took shape in mere months. This is not necessarily a bad thing
(Phantasia Land’s River Quest was even more of a rush job, but is none
the worse for it), but in this case, the moment you enter Ug Land, it is
quite screamingly obvious that Rita has not had the same level of love
and attention lavished on it as other rides. Bluntly, Rita looks like it
has been well and truly shoehorned into Ug Land. The conflict of two
totally different themes is ludicrous, and makes even the Nemesis / Air
clash look subtle.
Rita’s
station is truly horrible. Again, it is very obviously wedged into
position, sitting in a narrow strip of land between the Corkscrew and
Skyride, it is below par both aesthetically and functionally, and simply
feels wrong, especially in a park that usually takes theming and
landscaping seriously. It reflects the spirit of the entire ride, in
that it is obvious that it has been stuck into whatever gap it could
fit. Likewise, the queue system is a total mess, particularly in the way
it tangles itself with that of the Corkscrew. Elegant Rita ain’t, but
beggars can’t be choosers, and I’d rather have a shoehorned ride
than no ride at all, which seems to be the choice the park faced.
Finally,
capacity seems to be a major problem. Despite the best efforts of the
ride staff, with only 20 seats per train, it struggles to cope with the
demands placed on it in a busy park like Alton Towers. As with Spinball
Whizzer, long queues seem to be the norm even on quiet days, and even
with such efficiency measures as separate loading and unloading
platforms, the ride seems doomed to attract truly gargantuan queues on
busy days. Would you queue for three or more hours for a 30 second ride?
If so, good luck to you, but this will undoubtedly be too much for the
majority to tolerate.
Once
upon a time, when Nemesis opened, people criticised it for being too
short. Now, with Oblivion and Rita, Nemesis looks like a veritable
marathon by comparison. Rita is not a bad ride, indeed parts of it are
astoundingly good, but it is yet another gimmick-coaster that seems
unlikely to keep hold of riders’ affections the way that Nemesis has.
Whereas Nemesis continues to get better each time you ride it, the
opposite is true of Rita, and it doesn’t take a huge number of rides
before the novelty starts to wear away, and the prospect of joining the
queue becomes less and less appealing. Of course, this is not an issue
for most riders, who will only ride it once or twice a year, but if you
plan to make a habit of it, then make sure you appreciate those first
few rides while the novelty is still there.
JP 06 June 2005
Good points:
▪
Truly
amazing launch
▪
Never
loses momentum
▪
Three
great blasts of airtime
Bad points:
▪ Low
capacity
▪ Clashes
utterly with the rest of the area
▪ Appalling
dreadful abysmal atrocious horrendous name
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