I was up very early this morning to go to Upminster for a day of paintballing. It was my friend Danny's birthday and this was what he had elected to do. I was quite looking forward to it, I have never done it before. Though I was nervous, mindful (as it seemed many people were from the number who have mentioned it the minute I have said I am going paintballing) of what happened to PJ on Byker Grove - blinded by a paintball. It makes me wonder if that episode of a children's TV drama may have set the course of paintballing back by a decade.
It took a lot longer to get to the east end of the District Line than I imagined and I was almost an hour late, but luckily for me nothing had got going yet. There was a lot of organisation to do before the 150 or so people who were there could start shooting each other with pellets of paint and I was even in time for the induction, given by an ex-infantry soldier who was keen to tell us that we mustn't lift our goggles at any point and who did not suffer any talking or tomfoolery from a gang of kids to his left. Basically if anyone broke the rules or lifted their goggles inside of the game area, they would be out of there and going home.
I enjoyed the morning - it was almost euphorically exciting to shoot my first person (though in game one I fired only one shot, successfully taking out one of the opposition - who I think cheated and just wiped off the paint - before then being shot in the back by friendly fire). In a game where we were trying to get our president unharmed on to a bus, we had unlimited lives, so I did a suicide run, being shot directly in the goggles (feeling like I had been blinded, but unlike PJ my eyes were only stung) and in about three other places, falling to the ground , scraping the leg that had not been hurt by this week's skateboard mishap. I have the knees of a four year old at the moment. The bullets really hurt when they hit you, which was a good thing as it made it more realistic and you were less likely to take stupid chances. But I got bolder as the day went on and even went round the back of one remaining enemy shooter to take him out and win the game.
It was all surprisingly tiring and by the afternoon I had more or less had enough, but it was mainly enjoyable, despite ending up being quite pricey). I was left with my about eight strange love bite like marks on my arms, legs and body where the pellets had caught me. I looked a bit like I had been kidnapped and experimented on by aliens and I wondered if that's what actually happens to those people - they are actually being kidnapped by paintballers, wearing strange storm trooper style head gear and they're just too ashamed to admit they lost.
Anyway if you want to go
all the info is here. Though if you are an old man like me it can be exhausting, so maybe don't do it if you then have to perform in a one man West End show that night.
