loving some of that Godzilla merch, but now very intrigued by the Wasabi Kit Kats. The local HMart carries the Macha Green Tea version. . I might have to go ask them if they will special order the Wasabi for me so I can try it.
After making my rounds to visit my patients, I, Dr. John Watson, returned to my flat at 221B Baker Street. I found my friend and colleague, Sherlock Holmes, sitting in his accustomed chair. He was examining a photograph, which sat on his lap. As usual, he was lost in thought.
We stayed silent for a few moments.
“Watson,” the great detective said, “what do you make of this?” He handed the photograph to me, then walked over to the mantle and grabbed his Meerschaum pipe.
I shrugged. “It’s Mt. Fuji in Japan, shrouded by clouds,” I replied.
“Very good," said Holmes. “But I was referring to the place at the foot of the famous volcano.”
I shuddered. “Fuji Q? Holmes, what can that cursed place have to do with us?”
Holmes moved to the window. He gazed for a few moments at the other inhabitants of Baker Street as they went about their business unaware that the Place that Shall Not be Named had, in fact, been named.
“So, this place is known it you?”
“Yes.”
“You know of its singular reputation?”
“The long waits, odd weather and loose-item policies, bad food, and low-capacity attractions?”
“The same.”
I walked over to him. “You still haven’t answered my question, Holmes.”
“What would you say if I told you that someone who dislikes Fuji Q had spent a pleasant day there recently, say, within the last few months?”
I pondered this for a moment. “That, perhaps, you were misinformed?”
“Ah,” said Holmes. “And if I were to tell you that scarcely a week later, others of trustworthy reputation had reported having the customary ‘bad’ day at the same place?”
Again, I pondered my old friend’s words. “I would scarce know what to say, except that the latter report seems more likely to me.”
Holmes turned away from the window and strolled to the hearth. He stuffed his pipe full of fresh tobacco, which he kept in an old Persian slipper on the mantle.
“Yes, I think this could prove to be a three-pipe problem,” said Holmes. “Let’s look into this matter a bit more closely.”
He sat in his chair. “Be a good fellow and go online to themeparkreview.com and see what you find.”
He puffed furiously on his pipe as I went to get my laptop.
Welcome to Fuji Q. Fujiyama, the King of Coasters, is taking a break for maintenance, but says, “Hello.”
Elissa was, no doubt, making an important point here. I wish I could remember what it was. This is no reflection on the importance of her point, but on my faulty memory.
Their entrance looks like it’s erupting!
Aw, even Japanese volcanoes are adorable.
We had to walk from the park’s gift shop through this new “France-themed” area to get to the group sales office. It had something to do with a cartoon about two dogs named Gaspard and Lisa. I think.
“Kids, always follow the advice of Hot Sausage Ninja and don't abuse your hot dog. Treat it right.”
I met Pink Japanese Deadpool.
Let’s take a look at Takabisha, a ride that I like quite a bit (even though it’s a bit of a Jeckyll and Hyde).
Up the lift. Stop. Hang. Reconsider your life choices.
“We regret nothing!”
This is one of the better Eurofighters.
It even duels a bit.
Er, should we be concerned about this?
This is good advice, . . .
. . . particularly when riding Do-Dodonpa. That launch is still completely insane (0 to 112 mph in about two seconds)! This is the best ride at Fuji Q.
You can hear this thing all over the park, and it was running very well that day.
The new 160-foot loop has grown on me . . .
. . . but I guess Pink Deadpool misses the insane, painful air time of the old high hat. (Well, Deadpool is a bit “off.”)
There is a bit of a “bump” when you enter the loop . . .
. . . but it is smoother and less painful than the high hat.
So, I’m going to call the loop a good “upgrade.” More to come.
I could scarcely believe what I’d read. A third of the way into this man’s report, and nary a negative thing had been said about Fuji Q.
Holmes was on his second pipe.
Time for lunch at the much improved Food Stadium.
Oh, good lord.
Unfortunately, due to a mix up while ordering, Megan and KT were cooked and eaten. We were all very sad.
But life goes on, so I consoled myself with these rice “volcanoes.” One was plain, but the other two had different fillings (one was pretty spicy). They were good, but I couldn’t clean my plate.
Thomas Town is a really nice kid’s area. Much nicer than the one Six Flags built, then abruptly changed.
“By the way, it’s our 20th anniversary. Did we mention that already? Where is our gift?”
I admit to having this credit.
Now he must admit it.
“Damn you, Thomas Town! I’ll see you in hell!”
Don’t do it, dude! You have so much to live for!
“I’m comin’ for ya, buddy! Hang on!”
Party? Oh boy! Is there beer?
No beer, but lots of hallucinogens.
“You! The stoned guys in the car! Watch out!”
“Oh, I’m totally stoned, too.”
“Yeah, we’re all high as hell . . .
. . . but this guy had a bum trip.”
Proof that Japan has the backside of water.
OK, we need a nice, pleasant stroll through the woods to mellow out after Thomas’s party . . . OH MY GOD! What the hell is this place?
It’s “finished” for good, as the old Haunted Hospital is being removed.
The old walk-through haunt wasn’t all that scary, but it was heavy on atmosphere.
My new zombie girlfriend helped me get over Pal Pal’s Blue Fairy dumping me. One more set of photos to go.
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