I took my family to this mysterious new Edinburgh underground attraction
There’s something afoot in Waverley Market
There is a new trend, and it’s called competitive socialisation.
You need to chuck an activity - preferably an infantile one - into the mix.
Across the central belt, this phenomenon has gone bananas over the last couple of years. In Edinburgh alone, we’ve seen openings including St James Quarter’s Flight Club for darts; Roxy Lanes for bowling; BOOM Battle Bar for crazy golf and other activities, and Fayre Play for all kinds of funfair games for grown-ups.
My husband had his staff night out at that venue, and never thought he’d find himself hooking ducks alongside someone from HR. Did he enjoy it? Not particularly, but he’s quackers.
There’s also axe throwing, which I have tried with my pals. It was brilliant and I enjoyed channeling my inner Thor-ella. However, on one throw, a friend’s axe bounced back, hitting her on the leg with its handle and leaving a huge bruise. Ah, so that’s why you sign a disclaimer. Thankfully her limb wasn’t chopped right off, because that would be another definition of getting legless on a night out.
I also tried Ballie Ballerson - think cocktails and a ball pit - but it has since shut down. Nothing to do with me, or the time I thought I was going to get buried under the balls and never be found.
I still think they should revive Edinburgh’s Trampoline Centre, except for adults.
That might not happen, but we do have the new addition of the second Scottish branch of King Pins, who have their first outpost in Glasgow’s Silverburn.
It’s for the grown-ups, yes, but it’s also open to families. Thus, I thought I’d take my husband, six year old nephew, and two nieces, who are 12 and 14.
When we’re on babysitting duty, we really struggle to find something that suits all their ages, but this seemed about right. They were unanimously enthusiastic anyway.
To find this new attraction, you must plunge into the darkest recesses of Waverley Market and enter via King Pins’ arcade games section. I wish I’d put blinkers on the six-year-old, as we passed those temptations. He’s a sucker for those weak claws that feebly grab at soft toys and never grasp anything.
Down into the basement, and I thought I could hear Waverley Station trains rumbling underneath my feet, but that was maybe my imagination.
There is no natural daylight down here, just Bladerunner-esque neon lights.
First up, food. It’s pretty basic, think pepperoni pizza, chicken nugs, slushies, soft serve and loaded fries. However, it’s merely fatty fuel for what’s to come next.
This includes ten pin bowling, ice-free curling, American pool, mini golf, shuffleboard, darts, ping pong, and that aforementioned arcade.
As I’d like to keep both my eyes and I would not trust any of the children with a dart, that was immediately ruled out. Same for ping pong. As much as I love it, I didn’t want to spend my whole afternoon picking up the little white ball that’s found itself in a corner 30 metres away from the table. None of us are Marty Supreme.
We signed up for ten pin bowling first.I give our name at the counter, and he asks if I want to put the bumper rails on. Nah, we’ll be alright. I’m feeling competitive. Don’t want to give the ankle-biters an advantage, as I live my The Big Lebowski fantasy. I am Gaby The Dude Soutar. They’re going down.
My husband and I had been worried that we’d have to wear the bowling shoes, but not here. Hooray. It used to be the case that you’d be guaranteed a free dose of athlete’s foot with every session and they always smelled a bit red Leicester-ish
Anyway, I start strong. I choose a heavy ball, and kiss it for luck. Strike! Well, actually, I don’t get any strikes, but I get quite a few semi-strikes. Then, sadly, as everyone is looking a bit irritated by my competitiveness, I stop being such a try-hard. I order one of their frozen Margaritas instead, but I think it takes the edge off my game.
The kids start to use a bowling ramp, so the ball doesn’t go straight into the gutter. Cheats.
Anyway, it is brilliant fun, though I come second in the end, bah.
Next is ice-free curling. I’ve never tried the real thing, but I used to watch my mum play, back when it was her hobby in the Eighties. I feel that there will be talent in the genes. There is not. We split into boys and girls teams. We call ours Smiley Cyrus, and the boys call theirs, equally surreally, Hibs, because the six-year-old is going through a football phase.
Instead of ice, we slide the lightweight plastic stones on casters across a plastic sheeting rink.
It is incredibly tough to gauge how far they will go. There are quite a few rounds, but I don’t think I get a single stone into ‘the house’. They’re all about a metre away. Hibs win the game. Smiley Cyrus is wearing our smiles on the other sides of our faces.
Anyway, next time we might try crazy golf or shuffleboard.
The kids loved our visit. They have been sold on the concept of competitive socialisation.
As long as nobody gets their leg chopped off or eye taken out, I’d consider myself into it too.
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