A waterslide complex has the potential to cement the Big Banana's reputation as the country's premier venue for half-arsed amusements. I'm old school, so I don't think anything can top the Trail of Gruesomely Dismembered Old Fibreglass Sculptures, or the spellbinding Tour of Places Where Bananas Would Be if we Still Grew and Harvested Bananas, which is worth it for the guide's mindless repetition of the same few interesting facts about bananas over and over, because he's been stuck in a nightmarish reiteration of the same spiel for decades, and it's degenerated to random glossolalia.

Still, far be it for me to hold back the flume of progress. Some people look at the Big Banana and ask "for the love of God, why?" Others dream of holiday spinal injuries and ask "why not?"