November 20, Liseberg. The one-hundred-and-sixty-feet drop of the Valkyrie was the worst and most difficult and best. The first time you are most rightfully afraid, because you don’t know what’s coming, and it is only from the fact that normal people are doing it that you can conclude that it is bearable for normal people – although it doesn’t look like it. The view down the drop – we weren’t sitting in the first row, but the third, because the first row could be traumatic, as my daughter expertly assessed –, the bottomless drop, which lasts three seconds, but how long can three seconds be, the sixty miles per hour at which you hurtle into the ground, the g-force of deceleration, and then immediately the inversion. Hanging upside down is always the least of your worries.