Introduction:
Loyal and discerning readers will remember I have not written a trip report in about four years. Close friends know my last two reports remain unfinished, sitting somewhere on a broken hard drive in a junkyard garbage pile. I finally stopped trying. Instead of posting two or three days months after my trip and leaving everyone wondering how my family ever made it home, I stopped sharing our exploits with those who care the most: the Disney-crazed INTERCOT community.
Standing in the shower Saturday morning, less than an hour before boarding a bus for Disney’s Hollywood Studios, I mentally started writing a report of the day before. Words were flowing so easily I started wishing for a waterproof pen, not wanting to forget a single sentence. That’s when I knew I had to return from my hiatus.
I’ve been home for less than a day, and I’m starting to feel the post-Disney blues. This past weekend was nearly perfect, culminating with breakfast yesterday morning at an outdoor table at Spoodles overlooking the BoardWalk. I rode Toy Story Mania! thrice and tried the updated Spaceship Earth for the first time. I even had my first real-life meeting with my oldest friend from the boards.
I will finish this report. I promise. The vacation won’t end with my family meandering around a park. I only hope I can bring a touch of the Disney magic to all of you.
Cast of Characters:
Jared, 20: Intrepid leader, INTERCOT member and trip planner
Jeff, 55: Most reluctant Disney traveler, exclusive payer and father of the house
Carol, 47: Original Disney fan, closest to my level of enthusiasm for Walt Disney World
Justin, 15: Thrill seeker who could spend his entire trip riding Space Mountain over and over
Elyssa, 11: Resident scaredy-cat but with a heart of gold
Day 1: Thursday, May 22
The hardest part of any departure day is waiting. All that excitement and anxiousness, the thrill of watching the countdown slowly turn from 150 to zero, realizing all that waiting will finally pay off. To take my mind of Disney for a few hours, I went with my best friend, Matt, and his father to see “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” in the morning. I liked the movie enough, perhaps even more than “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.” It fits nicely into the Indy lexicon. But that’s a post for a different thread.
Finally, the clock read 4:30 p.m. and a taxi pulled into my driveway ready to help us begin our journey to the magic land. Traffic was surprisingly light on the Grand Central Parkway considering the time of the day. The roads must have known we were coming, and we arrived at New York’s LaGuardia Airport shortly after 5. I was surprised to learn Delta is now charging $3 per bag to check luggage curbside — a perk my family has often enjoyed — so we waited on the line inside the terminal with the rest of the minions.
We were through security with plenty of time, so we grabbed a quick dinner at the small food court before heading to the gate. Justin and Elyssa had hat dogs from Nathan’s, while my parents and I chose Sbarro. They had slices. I had a mediocre chicken stromboli. Kennedy airport has Famiglia pizza, which still isn’t particularly good, but it is much better than Sbarro.
Those of you who fly regularly to or from the New York airports know the scheduled departure and arrival times are mere suggestions, not rules. At JFK, the FAA considers any flight landing with an hour of the scheduled time “on-time.” So imagine our surprise when we boarded the plane about 35 minutes prior to our 6:58 flight. The weather was good, no rain or wind. We actually thought we’d leave when our boarding passes said we would. Alas, that was just wishful thinking. We finally pushed back from the gate a few minutes after 7 and gracefully took off around 7:30.
For many years, Delta was almost the only airline we ever flown. We consistently had good experiences, and something always seemed to go wrong when we tried something new. But JetBlue became king when it debuted a decade ago. The televisions at every seat and incredible number of cheap flights between New York and Florida won us over. Flying Delta was like a return to our roots, and I had almost forgotten what it was like to take a semi-long flight without ESPN instead of a blank seat back and unlimited free snacks instead of a tiny bag of peanuts. (What’s the deal with airline peanuts, anyway? Flying always makes me think of Jerry Seinfeld.)
Though we left a little late, we still landed virtually on time, somehow (another Seinfeld quip). We deplaned and took the airport shuttle to the main terminal. Does anyone else consider that 30-second tram the first ride of the trip? Hearing that recorded voice say “Please stand clear of doors” reminds me where I am. That’s when I know Disney is imminent. I am home.
Disney’s Magical Express was waiting for us just outside the airport door to whisk us away to Disney’s Beach Club Resort. I love that ridiculous video on the bus. It isn’t special, but my brother and I always have a good laugh about the narration. (“No, Stitch, not you. Actually, I was referring to the Yeti.”)
The bus stopped at Disney’s Caribbean Beach Resort and Disney’s BoardWalk Inn before reaching the Beach Club. It was around midnight — way too dark to appreciate the surroundings. We were all exhausted, anyway, and excited to begin our adventure in the morning. We checked into room 4660, our abode for the weekend. I don’t remember how long it took everyone to fall asleep. It’s always hard to shut down with images of the Magic Kingdom rushing through the brain. I knew I would see Cinderella Castle for the first time since October in just nine hours, and eventually, somehow, the tiredness took over, and I fell asleep dreaming of the Main Street Bakery and a batch of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven.
