The Enchanting Existential Dread of Aussie Theme Parks: Chapter Seven - The Also-Rans of Australia

Before The Crocodile Hunter, there were these two blokes entertaining us. — **Before** ***The Crocodile Hunter***, **there were these two blokes entertaining us.**

We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel tonight, as The Enchanting Existential Dread of Aussie Theme Parks examines the case of Leyland Brothers World, Magic Kingdom in Lansvale, and the notorious Wobbie’s World. I packed these altogether in the same article because I was worried I wouldn’t get enough material out of them on their own, so here goes. A lot of footage from my Old Sydney Town review originated from an archived television program called Ask The Leyland Brothers which has the same two blokes behind Leyland Brothers World going around Australia and recording what amounts to a prototype to the lifestyle programs of today like The Great Outdoors and Sydney Weekender. The Leyland Bros. had their own ill-fated theme park, not much evidence of it remains and I’ll briefly talk about it here because their documentation of New South Wales theme parks in their prime is invaluable. Leyland Brothers World which only lasted between 1990 and 1992 (even Sega World held on longer) got repurposed into The Great Aussie Bush Camp by the time I visited, and I remember the arcade machines plus spooky neglected Aboriginal art exhibits inside the main building which because of my fears stemming from Dot and the Kangaroo I never explored inside. A replica of Uluru dubbed The Rock Cafe stood as a petrol station for quite some time on that property, I wish I had more audiovisual resources to review Leyland Brothers World with but so little exists that I had to rely on an old episode of Australian Story off Aunty ABC to research what went down. It’s quite a bummer of an episode, Rise and Fall of the Leyland Brothers (2015), severe financial difficulty is quite triggering for me on a personal level for reasons I won’t get into and it sucks watching MBEs blow their retirement savings on what amounts to one of the biggest failed theme park enterprises New South Wales ever accommodated. The ruins of what was once Leyland Brothers World were like a layered fossil left behind for chuckleheads like me to make fun of, but this place wasn’t meant to be a joke - these guys were serious and Leyland Brothers World was a sincere if daggy tribute to Australian culture which Mike and Mal Leyland built in earnest. It presented a rather dated prism of what it meant to be Australian to the public, and to be honest the lack of Aboriginal consultation on their replica of Ayer’s Rock isn’t kosher by today’s indigenous advocacy standards. By the time Russell Coight’s All Aussie Adventures and The Crocodile Hunter starring Steve Irwin aired, the curation of Australian culture as done by the Leyland Brothers was antiquated and a bit old hat compared to the newer blokes on telly, plus Leyland Brothers World has aesthetics thoroughly rooted in what was acceptable graphic design in the late eighties. The Uluru replica was this fibreglass eyesore which bleached in the sun, rotting away in plain sight, emblematic of the well-intentioned yet ugly colonialism that spawned its creation. When people talk about Australian cultural cringe, The Rock Roadhouse is what springs to mind as it was a cheap facsimile of one of our nation’s natural wonders retro-fitted into a tourist trap. The Big Pineapple up in Queensland was classier than this hideous roadside attraction, The Big Prawn in Ballina had more dignity, what was once the centrepiece of a theme park’s mission statement became an accessory to a petrol station which served burgers to hungry drivers popping in for some stop-revive-survive sustenance. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that the fetishisation of rural Australia by two white British ex-pats didn’t resonate with me, a city dweller who occupied his time with the Game Boy Advance, but even I mourned the loss of The Rock Roadhouse when it burned down in 2018. For Mal Leyland, when The Rock Roadhouse was scorched to ash, the dream had finally died even though Leyland Brothers World bit the dust in 1992. It was this final insult to injury, the cherry on top of this disaster of a theme park, the last nail in its tacky coffin. As a roadside attraction, The Rock Roadhouse will be missed, even if it didn’t beautify its surroundings much. May it rust in peace, Megadeth style.

**Leyland Brothers World in its operational prime, with Bush Railway.**

**Tne entrance to Leyland Brothers World, leading inside The Rock.**

**Leyland Brothers World park mascots on display.**

**The interior of Leyland Brothers World was intended to resemble a country town.**

**The Rock Roadhouse as I remember it from the early 2000s.**

**A big fake skeleton of a giant lizard creature, at Leyland Brothers World.**

The Mike and Mel Movie Museum, above panels courtesy of Australian Story. — **The Mike and Mel Movie Museum, above panels courtesy of *Australian Story*.**

**The burnt out husk of what was once The Rock Roadhouse, in 2018.**

Magic Kingdom in Lansvale almost needs no introduction, with its ads playing Magic by Pilot drilled into our memories through archival YouTube clips, but this place does need to be placed into the context of its era. See, back in the late eighties to early nineties, you could get away with erecting a bunch of cheap carny rides and calling that a suburban theme park experience. Magic Kingdom, with no affiliation with Disneyland or Disney World, was among one of these suburban theme parks with questionable merits - rivalling the infamous Wobbie’s World in terms of cultural penetration. There were rides, “characters” which were weird guys in suits that looked like deformed aliens, and a wide variety of activities you could expect from the fairground of the Sydney Royal Easter Show. Magic Kingdom was run by carnies much like most fairgrounds of its ilk, and apparently according to YouTube comments their vicious children would try and fight you. As a theme park experience it was akin to a lower rent Luna Park Sydney, with some of the rides alleged to have come from that place and starting rumours that Magic Kingdom was haunted by the ghosts of people who died in the Luna Park Ghost Train fire. I don’t take much stock in these haunted theme park stories apart from Luna Park Sydney itself, you hear rumours Fantasy Glades was haunted by a ghost too, I’ll leave that for the urban explorers to decide. Speaking of urban exploration, there’s plenty of videos where dumb people who don’t value their safety ride on the abandoned, rusty slides which are in danger of collapse. I don’t want to encourage such behaviour with my coverage, but I will document it if it happens. Anyway, Magic Kingdom exemplifies the suburban theme park in many of our minds because who doesn’t love off branded characters and font trademark infringement? The eighties and early nineties were full of these parks, which faded away as suburban sprawl creeped into their surroundings, and because of high demand for residential housing this gilded age of crappy theme parks may never return to our fatal shore that swept them away. I don’t have much to say about Magic Kingdom, Lansvale compared to the other also-ran parks like Leyland Brothers World because I wasn’t able to visit it in person and all I have to go by are the ads which I have to sift through with the keen eye of an archaeologist. A lot of what was shown in the ads apparently fell into disrepair by the end of it, and it’s a shame I didn’t get to experience any of this nonsense for myself. It kinda looks fun, from a distance, and who doesn’t love the unofficial theme song Magic by Pilot being used in the commercial?

**The infamous ad for Magic Kingdom, Lansvale which played on Australian TV.**

**Video evidence of the waterslides in Magic Kingdom’s prime, the late eighties.**

The Astrospin touted by Magic Kingdom, Lansvale’s advertising blitz. — **The *Astrospin* touted by Magic Kingdom, Lansvale’s advertising blitz.**

**The corrugated iron slide which everyone remembers from Magic Kingdom.**

**The train rides which were part of the main attraction at Magic Kingdom, Lansvale.**

**An alien looking “character” accompanying children on a trampoline.**

**A rare glimpse of the stage shows that went on at Magic Kingdom, Lansvale.**

Another shot of the “characters” which look like extras from The Wicker Man. — **Another shot of the “characters” which look like extras from *The Wicker Man*.**

**I like how the mini-golf is advertised as “NEW GOLF” as if it’s a whole new thing.**

**The circular paddle boats available to ride at Magic Kingdom, Lansvale.**

**More paddle boats and a low, low price for entry at only six Australian dollars.**

**Oh, but of course the race cars and pony rides cost extra, there’s always a catch.**

**This place had group bookings available, like it was Luna Park or something.**

**Magic Kingdom really pushed their barbecues and picnics to their audience.**

Lots of people paddling in their canoes at Magic Kingdom, Lansvale. (Above panels courtesy of Robert Pugsley) — **Lots of people paddling in their canoes at Magic Kingdom, Lansvale.** **(Above panels courtesy of Robert Pugsley)**

We’ve saved the best of the worst for last, Wobbies World was a bewildering chapter in Australian theme park history, as few knew who was responsible for this hot mess of a theme park back in the day. An invaluable source for this article was The Abandoned Carousel, which was essential for my research as most coverage of Wobbies World as a theme park proper consists of Aussie comedians making fun of it rather than the deep lore and history of the park itself. I crack tons of jokes at the expense of crappy Australian theme parks myself, but it gets a bit frustrating when the history takes a back seat to the comedy when you’re researching stuff like “Who built it?” The auteur behind Wobbies World was Robin Laurie, who owned the playground area Wobbies World was built around. Apparently he was a nice bloke, however bewildering the theme park he created ended up being. Wobbies World was located in Melbourne, Australia, so I never got a chance to go there myself whilst it was still operational. Wobbies World is in many ways the archetypical bad Aussie theme park, because whilst the ads looked promising it was doomed to disappointment the moment you arrived, with many visitors feeling ripped off by the experience. If Wobbies World had a theme it all, it seemed to be transportation, as there were many vehicles available for children to ride in (including a Bren gun carrier tank from World War II). There were disused trams, and a stationary helicopter ride as well as a Whirly Bird ride which took you along a rail which rusted away in the skyline with jittery movements. It was pretty dismal, although the swan carousel was one of the less dangerous rides you could go on there. They had a Vickers Viscount aeroplane which was refitted to be a movie projector simulator, and a fire truck ride which took you past spraying water on the track. There were also four W2 class trams at Wobbies World, which could be ridden by visitors along interchanging rails. What remains of Wobbies World exists only in old vacation footage shot by tourists, as the different transportation vehicles have long been sold off to museums and dismantled for scrapyards. Much of Australian theme park fandom consists of archaeology trying to piece together snippets of our past through the wreckage left behind, and Wobbies World certainly exemplifies that as what precious footage left behind has been remixed into Jurassic Park parodies online. Wobbies World was a park built before my time, and I wasn’t located in the right state to enjoy it firsthand. I wish I could’ve gone there, though the apparent steep admission fees may have put off prospective parents like mine from taking their kids there. The Splashdown mini log ride seemed to be popular with kids who actually went, and I doubt Wobbies World existing did the reputation of Australian theme parks south of the Gold Coast any favours if you’re among those who regard theme parks as a legitimate art form. Wobbies World broke the mould when it was created, there’s nothing quite like it, for a reason. While other Aussie theme parks like Magic Kingdom had half-decent carny rides going for them, Wobbies World made bold choices like turning bobcat construction vehicles into bumper car-style attractions. It was crap, but it was unique crap, and Melbourne still waxes nostalgic for when it was still open because this park was bonkers enough to stick around from the eighties until the late nineties. I hesitate to say that Wobbies World has a “fanbase” up there with Wonderland Sydney, but the internet has engaged with Wobbies World through memes as I’ve already mentioned and the park earned an enduring legacy by inspiring the Pissweak World sketches on ABC’s The Late Show program. It may be gone now, but it isn’t forgotten by any stretch of the imagination, it dared to exist in a time when the suburban theme parks were on their way out and it’s sad to see it close. Compared to other ambitious Aussie theme parks like Fantasy Glades or Fox Studios Backlot it might not be impressive, but you’d be hard pressed not to get sucked into the retro ads for the place. Wobbies World represented the nadir of Aussie theme parks to many people, and although its reputation as a dodgy park was earned, I can’t help praising the audacity of the place and its grift which left its mark on our national consciousness through our popular culture. There will never be another Wobbies World, nor would it be recreated with its specific lens on past Australian transport on another part of the globe. All the departed suburban theme parks had a similar through-line going for them, they all wanted to create a space for families to spend time with their children cooking barbecues and having picnics together. The rides didn’t live up to the ads, but the family fun part was always present in the message they communicated to us, and a lot of these places were so bad that they were awesome. So many children shortchanged by them grew up into embittered adults dubious of the suburban theme park scam, a cottage industry which never recovered from the grandeur of its former self in the eighties and nineties. We haven’t seen new suburban theme parks spring up for nearly two decades, the devastating extinction burst of Aussie theme parks in the early two-thousands discouraged such innovation, and in the process we lost one of the best small theme parks ever constructed, Fantasy Glades. We’ll talk about that park next time.