Published in the Evening Echo on 23/04/2008

A couple of weeks ago some friends invited us all to their son’s fifth birthday party. Rather than go through the rigmarole of putting on a party at home, with all the preparation, organisation and clean-up work that entails, they decided instead to do something away from the house. They opted for Monkey Maze in Glanmire.

Monkey Maze is one of those giant indoor multi-level play areas (WARNING! If you choose to click on the preceding link, be ready for some really irritating jungle sounds) with ball pits, slides and all sorts of soft, squidgy playthings where children can run amok without coming to much harm. This is a good thing, and in theory means that parents can relax and let the nippers get on with it. Sounds like the ideal party venue.

The “fun” began in the car. I wanted to listen to the news… but as far as the kids are concerned the radio is for one thing, and one thing only: music! They pleaded, whined and generally made such a fuss that I couldn’t hear the news anyway. I tuned-in to the first music station I could find, but they weren’t listening… they were far too busy chattering incessantly about what they were going to do when they got to the play area.

We arrived at Monkey Maze. It was absolute bedlam.

As soon as I stepped through the door the noise hit me. Screaming, laughing, crying, wailing, whining, chuckling, singing, chanting, screeching… it was a wall of sound that spanned the gamut of the childhood vocal repertoire. It wasn’t pleasant. Paired with the garish primary colours of the décor it left me ruing that one last pint in the pub the night before. We live and learn… or not, as the case may be.

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