Many years ago, when I was only five or six, my father found a tourist attraction very close to where we lived in northeast New Jersey that he thought my brother and I would like. This attraction was called Fairy Tale Forest. Here, the fairy tales were brought to life. You could meet all the heroes and heroines as well as the villains in each of the stories. There was a tour guide who would introduce actors playing these characters. Needless to say, to meet the Wicked Witch was a bit frightening.
One of the keenest memories I have of that trip was walking through the forest of Hansel and Gretel. I do not know if it was actually a tunnel that was painted to appear to be a forest, but all I do remember was that it was SO, SO dark. I can remember holding on to my dad’s hand quite hard. I was happy to see the bread crumbs that the two children left for us. I can remember bending over to see if the white objects on the ground were indeed bread crumbs. To my dismay, I found out that they were rocks that were painted white and glued to the ground.