Deeply ugly

"STARS!" said two-year-old Mia, pointing to the twinkly ceiling lights. She had a point. Entering The Deep is a little like venturing into outer space.

It's dark (many of these fish have a vampire-like hatred of anything over 25 watts), it feels very other-worldly, and it's filled with alien beings.

Hull's "submarium" has been a huge success, attracting 1.8 million visitors since its launch in March 2002. But we were visiting because The Deep just got deeper.

Last month the Twilight Zone opened, the new exhibition at the heart of a £6.8 million extension.

Using some sort of clever technology or other, the boffins at the aquatic attraction have recreated conditions as they would be up to one kilometre below the waves. This is a place where the sun don't shine, an impossibly strange part of our own world which is less charted than the surface of the moon.

Down in that sort of darkness, creatures don't care too much about their looks. Put simply, the Twilight Zone features the most bizarre life on our planet, and probably any other planet.

It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the extra gloom of the Twilight Zone, and a few moments more to squint into the glass and try to make out a lifeform amid the murky water. Then comes the shock. You suddenly realise you are staring into the eyes - or at least what you guess are the eyes - of primitive ugliness.

The most sour-faced fella we encountered was the wolf eel. He makes the Elephant Man look like Clark Gable. I would be surprised if even wolfie's mother would describe her boy as a looker.

Some way weirder, however, was our favourite resident of the Twilight Zone. The Giant Pacific Octopus is a nightmare of curling limbs and pulsing, translucent flesh. Squashing itself into an unfeasibly tight corner in a forlorn attempt to hide from six-year-old Jack and other equally gobsmacked youngsters, its head lolloped and bashed against the rocks in a way that left you wincing and wondering if it needed a paracetamol.

Other strange sights are here too. Flashlight fish that spark like cigarette lighters, not to mention the spotted ratfish which, if nothing else, is a good insult.

The sea dwellers in the Twilight Zone are like nothing I'd seen in other aquariums. They certainly add to what is already a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

In The Deep you start at the top and work your way down, marvelling at the ethereal jellyfish here, the limb-rippingly large shark there. Both our children were entranced by the variety of colourful creatures. The pair were so drawn into the underwater world that they nearly sprinted off screaming when a large ray suddenly loomed up at them.

As well as watching the fish, there are plenty of interactive wheels to turn and flaps to lift, and the conservation message is gently but persistently repeated.

You may have to queue for the final treat: a trip back upstairs to a half-decent caf via the glass lift, inside the tank. For a few upwardly mobile seconds you feel like Jacques Cousteau.

The Deep is well worth the journey to Hull and back. Best of all, this water-filled world is perfect for a rainy day.

Fact file

The Deep contains hundreds of sea creatures, including seven species of shark, in 2.5 million litres of water.

Tickets cost £7.50 per adult, £5.50 for under-16s (children under four go free) and £6 for students and pensioners

Opens daily 10am to 6pm (last entry 5pm).

There is wheelchair and pushchair access to all public areas.

The Deep is located within walking distance of Hull city centre on the bank of the River Humber. The car park costs £3, but £2 can be redeemed against purchases in the shop or caf

From Hull's railway station you can take the Number 90 bus to The Deep.

For more information, ring 01482 381000 or check out www.thedeep.co.uk

Updated: 08:32 Saturday, April 09, 2005