Barry Island
When I was a child, and knew not how formative youthful experiences were, my parents took me to Barry Island, where I insisted upon going on a ride called "Frankenstein's Ghost Train"1 with my dad. The car kicked the doors open; I shut my eyes; and I kept them shut all the way through and out the other side. All I noticed was a squirt of water and some string on my face. I was so gutted at my cowardice I begged and begged to go on again. They refused.
I've kept my eyes open ever since.
15 July 1978
Notes:
1 There's a surprising amount on this ride online. Another classic there was The Gold Mine, a Western themed mine-ride, which I did keep my eyes open for, and seemed to me an adventure into another time and place.
2 I can't tell you how this experience made me. I have never since resisted jumping in with both feet where others might hold back. It has made me simultaneously uncomfortably gauche and exotically experienced.