Saturday: Cleveland

Following personal enlightenment at Cedar Point, we were in need of a haven, a peaceful place where we could reflect wisely on the wonders that we had seen. Cleveland, on the shores of Lake Erie, where no tourists have ever ventured seemed a perfect choice. We realised fairly early on that Cleveland is a weird city - we spent Friday night in a sports bar owned by the least likely sports bar owner after Mother Teresa, heavy metal rock star, Alice Cooper.

Our feelings that this was an odd town were confirmed the next day at breakfast in an excellent local diner where we were accosted by two Jehovah's Witnesses who were involved in spreading the good news to the deaf community. Our own thought is that Jehovah's Witnesses are slightly missing the point of Christianity by basing their beliefs on the LSD trip that is Revelations rather than the four gospels and possibly the Acts of the Apostles. But enough theology - all that need be said is that while they were involved with good works, our new friends' methods of finding new converts was unusual to say the least. Very simply it involved asking everyone they met in downtown Cleveland - waitresses, fellow breakfasters, passers by et al - if they knew any deaf people. As an opening conversational gambit it certainly grabs the attention...

We then walked through central Cleveland which was completely dead before heading to a suburban shopping mall where we found thousands of seemingly affluent Clevelanders. It made a very odd contrast with the souless and rather sad business district. At dinner we discovered from our chatty waitress why it is so dead. The steel industry that used to support Cleveland has relocated almost entirely to China while the local businesses have moved to the suburbs. Truly central Cleveland is just a ghost town.

Nevertheless, the ghostliness does not stop downtown Cleveland from having one of the finest steak houses we have ever eaten at and we consider ourselves connoisseurs. It was the last night of this epic odyssey and having driven over 900 miles in a week in pursuit of roller coaster excellence we though it only right to toast this acheivement with a dinner for champions. And in the US, this means eating steak. We did you all proud. James feasted on a 20oz Kansas City strip on the bone while George savoured at 18oz filet mignon. Washed down with a delightful 2002 Cabernet Savignon from the Napa Valley, we felt that we had celebrated the mysteries of the roller coaster in a befitting manner.

We retired therefore not only with severe indigestion but also wondering what Gueaga Lake, a younger brother of Cedar Point, just outside the city might have to offer for our last day.