Land of the little people

On the Jungle Ride (an extremely gentle float in a small circular boat around a circuit that offers nothing more terrifying than statues of tigers and elephants), she was twitching with anticipation at what might - but didn't -emerge from the undergrowth.

Despite the presence of several school-trip coaches in the car park, the park seemed delightfully crowd-free, so much so that when the children wanted a second go on something, as they invariably did, they could sit tight and carry right on.

We were convinced that we might come across a crowd at the next attraction, so when we found a stall selling nachos and Westler hot-dogs after the first few rides, we thought it best to have a preemptive snack, so that we could carry on straight through lunch and hit the food hall when everyone else had gone. (If the park really is busy, the hot tip is to go round anti-clockwise, against the general tide.)

Each ride seemed more exciting than the last. Robert, who's a cautious lad, enjoyed the gentle round-the-clock-face swinging of the Flying Carpet, but eschewed the chair-o-planes and the roller coaster even though, at 112cm, he was big enough to ride them with an adult.

He rallied himself for the Free Fall Drop Tower, a new attraction where you are cranked up high enough to see across the rest of the park, then dropped with stomach-lurching force, and rode the spooky Silver Mine train, the rackety, bucketing Log Coaster and the dodgems with panache.

Because we went on a weekday before most schools broke up, only one of the restaurants and a couple of the shops were open, which gave the place a slight ghost-town air.

The staff all looked unenthusiastic - and I can't say I blame them, as they stood about through yet another unseasonably cold July day, with rain clouds threatening a downpour - but turned out to be sweet and cheerful as they patiently strapped little children into the rides.

Our waterproofs came in handy on the Log Flume (a boring crawl through a featureless, halfdrained, weedy lake, redeemed by an exhilarating watersplash at the end) but poor Molly, in the front of the boat, still got soused.

When we finally hit the Castle Food Court, it was deserted, though drifts of paper towels around the bin in the Ladies testified to previous occupation.

The food was the usual lowest-common-denominator offerings of chewy chips, cardboard burgers and soggy jacket potatoes - I know it's what the Great British Public is deemed to want on a day out, but it's still depressing - but at least there were no queues.

For such a compact area, Gulliver's packs in a lot of fun. Beth could have spent hours in the adventure playground part of Toyland and we never got near the two theatres or any of the other indoor attractions.

'It was exciting without being too scary,' said Molly, which sums it up nicely. And that holds, too, for adults like me who can't take neck-snapping, headspinning rides. Will we go again? It's only a question of when.

Gulliver's, Livingstone Drive, Newlands, Milton Keynes, Bucks (01925 444 888). Gulliver's is off Junction 14 of the M1, about 50 miles from Central London (the nearest station is Milton Keynes Central, trains take between 40 and 65 minutes from London Euston).

The park is open from Easter to December, from 10.30am-5pm over the summer holidays, call to check specific dates and times. £10.30, child under 90cm free. www.gulliversfun.co.uk