Scope for family adventure

The 2CV pulled out in front of us with the urgency of a snail. Nothing unusual about that on French roads. Except that we were hurtling through the narrow, twisting streets of a medieval village in a Formula 3 racing car.

I lurched forward in my seat, slammed into my seat brace and felt the whiplash in my neck. "That was wicked," said my 10-year-old son, Marco. "Why can't you drive like that?"

The crash on the tennis court-sized screen came courtesy of the technology of cinema dynamique - each of the 96 pairs of seats are mounted on six computer-controlled hydraulic jacks which shake, swing and flip you around to make the film feel unnervingly real.

We were 200 miles south-west of Paris on an off-season trip to Planete Futuroscope, which claims to house the finest collection of high-tech, big-screen cinemas in Europe. More than two million people a year visit, making this France's second most popular theme park.

Unlike Disneyland Paris, however, Futuroscope is essentially a collection of indoor attractions, so we knew that while queues would be shorter, our trip wouldn't be ruined by foul winter weather.

As we planned Marco's treat, though, I also wanted some fun of my own. I refused to spend a whole weekend in a theme-park bubble - easy enough if you arrive via the park's TGV station and stay at one of the purpose-built hotels at the gates. So we did a deal. He'd see Planete Futuroscope; I'd savour some of the pleasures and flavours of France. We'd fly from Stansted to Poitiers and stay in town. From the tiny airport it was just a £5 hop to the Grand Hotel. That Friday evening, troughing on seafood hotpot, steak-frites and chocolate gateau, we reckoned we had got off to the right start.

Leaving the carrot of Planete Futuroscope until Sunday made for an astonishingly well-behaved child on Saturday. Marco cheerfully ambled with me around the morning market, stopping to buy honey and cheese or simply to admire mountains of wild mushrooms, cairns of oysters and hypnotically patterned piles of artichokes loaded on trestles. Afterwards we joined locals for a prelunch aperitif, soaking up the pale sunshine at a cafe with outdoor tables at the edge of the market.

Marco even seemed happy with a low-stress blast of culture. Top sight is the church of Notre Dame, with a facade of carved figures like a cartoon version of the Bible. Several other delightful Romanesque churches - all petrified forests of columns - dot the old town centre, scattered with medieval timber-frame houses. "Best bit was that Roman church," enthused Marco that evening to my surprise, "though not as good as all those cakes we ate."

Sunday morning was payback time. A six-mile taxi hop from town, Planete Futuroscope rises out of the plain, a park landscaped around a lake, scattered with futuristic buildings: one like a sculpture of organ pipes, another a giant, fractured, metallic crystal, another like a huge golf ball in a glass cube. Each contains a cinema screen.

Marco gave the thumbs-up to the Rio carnival, projected onto 360-degree screens in a circular cinema. Better still was a 3D film about a T-Rex coming to life ("Wicked, especially when he roars at you and dribbles everywhere"). He'd already seen Imax films in London, but at the sight of a hammerhead shark floating across a screen seven storeys high in a film called Ocean Oasis, his eyes grew until he looked like a hypnotised haddock.

At the "flying carpet" of two vast Imax screens - one angled below the seats - we flew with Monarch Butterflies on their 3,000km migration to Mexico, and Marco could only muster a heartfelt "Wow". Following the commentary wasn't a problem - we had a pair of headphones each, which picked up an English-language soundtrack.

Marco's favourites, though, were the computer-generated films. Scariest was Superstition, another dynamique ride on a ghost train through a diabolical maze. The 3D ride down to Atlantis was so good that Marco wouldn't stop jumping up and down until we did it twice. The day ended with a lakeside show of fireworks and dancing images projected by laser onto screens of mist 15 metres high - which Marco thought was the best attraction of all.

Even in one long, packed day, we didn't see everything, but over the weekend we had both had a brilliant time. Perhaps my one regret was indulging overenthusiastically at lunch - alongside fast-food there are brasseries, cafes, even a posh gastronomic restaurant by the lake. Pleasantly stuffed, I was looking forward to a gentle slobout in front of a cinema screen. If you do the same, take my advice: save that Formula 3 ride for a little later.

Way to go

James Bedding flew to Poitiers with Buzz (0870 240 7070; wwwbuzzaway.com). Return fares this half-term, £110, adult or child, including two-for-the-price-of-one admission to Planete Futuroscope (020 7499 8049, www.planete-futuroscope.com), normally from £13 adults, £9 ages five-12. Le Grand Hotel (00 33 5 49 60 90 60, www.grandhotelpoitiers.fr), 28 rue Carnot, has twin rooms for £42 per night.