Minigolf and Mazes

Coming off my last post about minigolf establishments, a minigolf center is now right up there on my "I'd like to do this when I'm rich" list with a maze complex.  In fact, it’s probably much easier than a maze complex.  I could probably put a minigolf centre on the block of land I eventually intend to turn into a maze complex and use it to earn some money to go towards constructing the mazes.

Then I will own a space that has lovely gardens, a maze complex and a minigolf centre on the outside, a room that contains a miniature village with model trains on the inside and a lovely teahouse where people can have Devonshire Teas and book the pretty spaces for weddings and such.

Or I could put the minigolf centre (with its small, neat gardens, a garden railway and a small teahouse) on a smaller block of land somewhere else in town while I’m working on the maze complex (with its formal gardens and bigger, classier teahouse) in another part of town (or in a neighbouring town) and have deals and things where people who visit one get a discount on the other.

I wouldn’t do any of this here, in this city, of course.  It’s my dream to buy a big block of land in a small town (where the land is cheaper) and use this complex to bring some tourism dollars into the place.  I keep thinking that if I’m smart enough I can make places that can fulfil a few needs at the same time, and therefore not make myself completely broke while chasing this dream.

A place for the locals to go for lunch or coffee.  A place for people to book for parties and weddings.  A place that encourages tourists to stop and spend some money/time in the region.

I love these sorts of places, and they seem so obvious and easy to execute that I don’t know why more small towns don’t have them.  I’ll probably find out the hard way.

The Minigolf Offensive

The main entry to the local showgrounds lies directly opposite a minigolf establishment.

I should really say *the* minigolf establishment as it’s the only one in town.  It may very well be the only one in the region.  To the best of my knowledge, none of the neighbouring towns have minigolf… places.

What do you call the location where one plays minigolf?  Is it a field?  A park?  A centre?  Greens?  “Minigolf greens” sounds silly, but so does “minigolf links”.  It’s certainly not a club – you don’t join it, you just turn up and play.

I’m going to go with “centre”.  It’s a nice generic word that could mean almost anything (except, perhaps, “circumference”, “fringe” or “periphery”).

Anyway, as I was saying, I believe our minigolf centre is the only minigolf centre in the region.  It has been there for at least a decade and a half – possibly two decades.  I remember going there at east once when I was in high school.  I went again about seven or eight years ago for a party.  And I visited for the third (fourth?) time in my life this year, when I went to the Show.

I have often thought of going there again over the years, but I’m one of those lazy people who never visit places in their own town.

On this occasion I walked out of the showgrounds and noticed the centre was open, and thought I may as well go in and play.  Now, I have actually been to a couple of other minigolf centres while on holidays, so this wasn’t the third (fourth?) time I’ve ever played the game, just the third (fourth?) time I’ve been to this particular establishment. 

The last two (three?) times I didn’t really pay any attention to the grounds or the design of the place.  This time I couldn’t help it.  

The current owners had taken one of the two courses out of action and replaced it with a rather sad combination of messy-construction site and unused jumping castle.  The remaining course was in a severe state of disrepair.

The fake turf on the greens was ripped and fraying.  Many of the original obstacles had been removed and either replaced with common garden ornaments (as in, terracotta pots and those little stone temple thingies), or simply hadn’t been replaced at all.  Everything was so worn and dilapidated that you couldn’t help but note how simply it had all been put together in the first place – and how simply it could have been repaired.

Sure, there was a few thousand dollars worth of hardware involved in fixing the place up – but this is a business, for goodness’ sake.  If you can’t invest a few thousand dollars in maintaining the grounds that your livelihood depends on, then what is the point of you?  Why are you doing this if you are going to do it so badly?

But I noticed something while I was going around the course.  I noticed how simply it had all been done in the first place.

This was a space no bigger than some of the back yards in the old suburbs.  Parts of the grounds were just lawn and gardens:  some nice spots to sit with a drink or a picnic and a pergola with a barbeque for parties.

The actual “links” (or whatever you call them) were just a bit of clever landscaping, really.  A strip of concrete with a hole at one end (a bit of plumbing pipe), covered in fake turf and made “interesting” with the inclusion of obstacles.  Some plants or mini-rock gardens separated the links from each other to create a sense that each was is own little space, and the use of a bit of raised dirt and steps gave it some different levels and made it a bit more varied.

And the original obstacles weren’t even that clever.  They were much more clever than their common-garden replacements, but they were basically blocks of painted wood with holes cut in strategic places, or sculptures with a bit of tubing running through them.  It was the paint (now quite worn and faded) that made them look interesting in the first place.

Looking at this sad, dilapidated excuse for an activity centre, I suddenly realised just how easy it would be to make your own.

Seriously.  I want to make one now.  

A Maze

For some years now I've harboured a dream to own a maze complex.

One day, when I'm rich enough to completely indulge in my own eccentricities, I'm going to buy up an old farm and install a couple of mazes. I'm thinking at least one hedge maze (maybe more) and one turf maze, although I'm also tempted to throw in a walled labyrinth as well.

In this complex I'll also have two model villages - one outside, and using real plants and grass to create the effect, and one model railway village inside the same building as the tea house.

Oh, yes, there's going to be a tea house. One that sells traditional Devonshire teas and coconut bread with home-made marmalade. And a plowman's lunch with a selection of cheeses and fresh damper. And maybe Neenish Tarts, because they amuse me.

And there'll be a formal garden, too. The number of mazes I put in will depend entirely on whether or not I have space for the garden. One of those gardens where different sections indulge in different themes, and taking a small detour off the path can lead to a pleasant surprise that you would otherwise have missed. The turf maze will probably be part of this garden.

There will be sculptures hidden all over the complex - birds, animals, characters from children's books and legends - and there will be a game involved. People coming to the maze will have to see if they can spot all of the statues, but they'll be given an incomplete spotter's list. People who find every single statue (bar one) - even the ones that aren't on the list - will get a free icecream from the tea house (home made, of course).

If you find all of the statues on the list, but not all (bar one) of the statues not listed, you'll get your icecream for half-price. And there will be one statue that's so hard to find that anyone who manages to get every single statue in the complex will have their name added to a plaque.

If there's any farmland left over, I'm going to convert part of it into an orchard (apples or oranges, depending on where I am) and let the other part go a bit feral so I can put in a small bush-walk.

I keep thinking about where I'll put this maze complex. For a while I thought it would be great to put it in Waratah in Tasmania. There are actually four maze complexes in Tasmania all ready (five, if you include the little one on Bruny Island), but none of them are on the western side of the state. And, we could probably engage in some sort of referral process. If you visit one maze, they'll encourage you to check out the others...

But while Waratah has always fascinated me, and I think something like this maze would be good for the town, I've always felt it was a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Somewhere closer to Wynyard, perhaps, like Flowerdale, would be more comfortable.

By the way, if you ever go to Tasmania, I thoroughly recommend the Tasmazia complex (inland from Devonport) and the Glengarry Bush Maze (a drive out from Launceston).

My other thought was to put it in north Queensland - specifically somewhere near Paronella Park. The idea being that people vising the Mena Creek/South Johnstone area could spend the morning at the maze and the afternoon at the Park (or vice-versa). I had toyed with the idea of putting it in Germantown because "Germantown Maze" sounds cool, and my model village could be based in Bavaria (which would also be cool).

But it turns out Germantown doesn't exist as much as it could. And, once again, the Mena Creek/South Johnstone area is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. I mean, the closest town is Innisfail, and it takes hours to get anywhere in North Queensland. I'd be better off in Tasmania.

So, at the moment, I'm thinking maybe Viljandi, in Estonia. I haven't spent long in Viljandi, so I may change my mind once I spend more time there, but I didn't mind the place, it's close to pretty much every other town/city in the country (compared to Australian distances), there's a nice lake and I think I'd be the only massive maze complex in the country, which would make it a pretty unique tourist attraction.

I could see a future where the top tourist attractions in Estonia are the Old Town in Tallinn, the Open Air Museums and the Viljandi Mazes.

The only problem with moving my maze concept to Estonia is that it might mess with my mother's retirement plan. In recent years she's gone from "Yeah, yeah. Maze. Whatever" to "I could sell tickets in the tea house". Which could be handy, actually, as it means we could take turns minding the maze while the other one goes off somewhere for the weekend, or something.

But she has previously expressed extreme indifference in the idea of even visiting me, should I move to Europe, so I'm guessing she won't want to shift to Viljandi to run the tea house.