Hiddenhearth
Earning My Ears
- Joined
- May 16, 2001
So Thursday was a whirlwind for all of us, each one of us going our separate ways about the ship, all trying to pack in as much as possible on our last day aboard.
For the Thursday evening semi-formal dinner, as I believe I've already told you, I did not have any trouble convincing my family to dress formally once more. DS15 donned his tux without a peep. DGP didn't bother, choosing dark jacket instead, but that didn't matter.
We dressed before the evening show, which as you all know was "Dreams", which we were expecting great things from, after reading all these trip reports and comments.
Of all the events to be late for, this was the one my family couldn't get it together to be on time for, alas. By the time the last of us four had arrived, the show had begun and the whole house was already entranced in the production. Right away one could see that this was head and shoulders above the previous shows. What can I say - it was really well done.
I will interject here that on that Thursday afternoon, when we were all together for a short while in the midst of our explorations, we were talking about how wonderful a cruise it had been. We noted that despite all those children being aboard for the week, the atmosphere was remarkably relaxing. Except for DGM, we'd all been to Disney World and had witnessed the to-be-expected parent nightmare of overstimulated, overly-tired child in tantrum mode. But not here, not on the ship. How well-behaved this floating society was.
So I said, on Thursday afternoon.
Well, not long into "Dreams", I ate my words. On the far side of this quiet audience, not long into the show, started the wailing of a child, about five years old, I'd guess. In this family-seasoned crowd, no one appeared to give this tyke much notice.
Thing was, this kid kept on wailing. I thought, Oh the poor parents must be sitting in the middle of the aisle and have to work their way out, babe in arms, to the aisle.
Un uh. Either parent/parents weren't there, or they were the unruly ones. They didn't bother to leave. The wailing continued. This kid was louder than the actors on stage.
I was astonished. Truly. Like a bystander at a morbid accident out in public, I wanted to go see what kind of adult would remain sitting beside his disturbed child creating such a disruption. Of course I didn't move from my seat, but as much as I wanted to watch the show on stage, I really wanted to see what kind of constitution these parents had that could stand the scrutiny of the hundreds of other adults surrounding them. I for one would have been glowing red from embarrassment.
After the wailing continued for more than five minutes, another kid started yelling! This second interlocutor (sounding not much older than the first) wasn't for attention - he was yelling at the first one!! He was screaming for that kid to shut up!
You would have been sure that there wasn't an adult in the room.
Honestly, I was amazed. I even wondered if the show might be stopped if these children didn't stop screaming. I've seen professional actors break character and halt a play for less disruption.
Anyhow...anyhow...these actors didn't. The show went on. "Dreams" was so good, that the fortitude of the remainder of the audience (and the cast) - to enjoy the show - was as amazing as the rudeness of the parents of those two children.
Applause to Disney.
Then came Friday. As with "Dreams", what can I say about Castaway Cay. The beach was crowded, yes. It was sunny and hot, yes. But if I could choose a time and place to be suspended in time, yes this was it.
As I'd told you in previous ramblings (yes, new readers, believe it or not, there were 15! parts before this. no more apologies!...), DW & I, after setting up camp around a hammock under a palm tree, grabbed our snorkel gear and hurried for the water trail. We took the long route. It was just delightful. I don't know why, but it was more fun than snorkeling at St. Maarten and St. John.
Not being a swimmer, DW was a bit tired by the end of our trek. We returned to our encampment happy and refreshed.
Time here, was not suspended. It was flying. Lunch was gay, all of us at the picnic table under the roof-top, all three generations in bathing suits.
Then after, the adults went to see the adult beach. There, I could have spent all day enjoying the solitude, though there wasn't time, it just wasn't fair, and we wanted to share this island with our kids. Back to the family beach to swim with the boys. Boy - actually - for teenage son found heaven in the hammock. Poor child, he'd had a late night, staying up til - who knows, one AM? - with some new-found friends, taking advantage of their new-found freedom, staying out past parents' bedtime.
Then a stroll out to the point, to the bar on the dock overlooking the bay, with DGP, DW, & weary DS15, for a refreshing drink in the hot afternoon sun. And we sat on the high stools under the umbrella, with our gaze glued to this vista, this colorful beach and the children playing at water's edge, and the "Magic" in the distance, sitting patiently, dutifully, waiting to take her charges back to - back to -
Oh no this was Friday afternoon, late Friday afternoon, and tomorrow was - tomorrow was -
Oh how could a week go so fast!
The heavy sadness was creeping into my soul. The pain!
We had to finish our drinks and go. Time was up. The loudspeakers were announcing that the time had come to go.
It was like falling helplessly into a black hole.
By the time we walked back to the beach, most passengers had already abandoned the area. The empty chairs now in disarray all about the beach. Towels scattered about. Some forgotten floats here and there. Just a few children remaining in the water. A few parents left, saying to their frolicking kids, "Come out now. I'm not going to say it again. We have to go," and then to their spouses, "I can't get him out. You get him out."
We frantically made our obligatory stop at the gift shop before straggling back to the "Magic" with some of the last faithful beachgoers. Even being of the last, there was still a line to board the ship. Here was the first Disney line that could not have been long enough. Just before the final trudge up the gangway, we rinsed our feet of the sand under the shower on the pier.
Then to our room, where, after dressing for dinner, our room looked not unlike our day at the beach, sand everywhere.
Then our last little excitement, which I wasn't going to tell you about, but which I will now finally give you a hint for : WHEN. YOU. WISH. U. PON. A. STARRR.
Oh my. does there have to be a 17!!!!???
Steve
For the Thursday evening semi-formal dinner, as I believe I've already told you, I did not have any trouble convincing my family to dress formally once more. DS15 donned his tux without a peep. DGP didn't bother, choosing dark jacket instead, but that didn't matter.
We dressed before the evening show, which as you all know was "Dreams", which we were expecting great things from, after reading all these trip reports and comments.
Of all the events to be late for, this was the one my family couldn't get it together to be on time for, alas. By the time the last of us four had arrived, the show had begun and the whole house was already entranced in the production. Right away one could see that this was head and shoulders above the previous shows. What can I say - it was really well done.
I will interject here that on that Thursday afternoon, when we were all together for a short while in the midst of our explorations, we were talking about how wonderful a cruise it had been. We noted that despite all those children being aboard for the week, the atmosphere was remarkably relaxing. Except for DGM, we'd all been to Disney World and had witnessed the to-be-expected parent nightmare of overstimulated, overly-tired child in tantrum mode. But not here, not on the ship. How well-behaved this floating society was.
So I said, on Thursday afternoon.
Well, not long into "Dreams", I ate my words. On the far side of this quiet audience, not long into the show, started the wailing of a child, about five years old, I'd guess. In this family-seasoned crowd, no one appeared to give this tyke much notice.
Thing was, this kid kept on wailing. I thought, Oh the poor parents must be sitting in the middle of the aisle and have to work their way out, babe in arms, to the aisle.
Un uh. Either parent/parents weren't there, or they were the unruly ones. They didn't bother to leave. The wailing continued. This kid was louder than the actors on stage.
I was astonished. Truly. Like a bystander at a morbid accident out in public, I wanted to go see what kind of adult would remain sitting beside his disturbed child creating such a disruption. Of course I didn't move from my seat, but as much as I wanted to watch the show on stage, I really wanted to see what kind of constitution these parents had that could stand the scrutiny of the hundreds of other adults surrounding them. I for one would have been glowing red from embarrassment.
After the wailing continued for more than five minutes, another kid started yelling! This second interlocutor (sounding not much older than the first) wasn't for attention - he was yelling at the first one!! He was screaming for that kid to shut up!
You would have been sure that there wasn't an adult in the room.
Honestly, I was amazed. I even wondered if the show might be stopped if these children didn't stop screaming. I've seen professional actors break character and halt a play for less disruption.
Anyhow...anyhow...these actors didn't. The show went on. "Dreams" was so good, that the fortitude of the remainder of the audience (and the cast) - to enjoy the show - was as amazing as the rudeness of the parents of those two children.
Applause to Disney.
Then came Friday. As with "Dreams", what can I say about Castaway Cay. The beach was crowded, yes. It was sunny and hot, yes. But if I could choose a time and place to be suspended in time, yes this was it.
As I'd told you in previous ramblings (yes, new readers, believe it or not, there were 15! parts before this. no more apologies!...), DW & I, after setting up camp around a hammock under a palm tree, grabbed our snorkel gear and hurried for the water trail. We took the long route. It was just delightful. I don't know why, but it was more fun than snorkeling at St. Maarten and St. John.
Not being a swimmer, DW was a bit tired by the end of our trek. We returned to our encampment happy and refreshed.
Time here, was not suspended. It was flying. Lunch was gay, all of us at the picnic table under the roof-top, all three generations in bathing suits.
Then after, the adults went to see the adult beach. There, I could have spent all day enjoying the solitude, though there wasn't time, it just wasn't fair, and we wanted to share this island with our kids. Back to the family beach to swim with the boys. Boy - actually - for teenage son found heaven in the hammock. Poor child, he'd had a late night, staying up til - who knows, one AM? - with some new-found friends, taking advantage of their new-found freedom, staying out past parents' bedtime.
Then a stroll out to the point, to the bar on the dock overlooking the bay, with DGP, DW, & weary DS15, for a refreshing drink in the hot afternoon sun. And we sat on the high stools under the umbrella, with our gaze glued to this vista, this colorful beach and the children playing at water's edge, and the "Magic" in the distance, sitting patiently, dutifully, waiting to take her charges back to - back to -
Oh no this was Friday afternoon, late Friday afternoon, and tomorrow was - tomorrow was -
Oh how could a week go so fast!
The heavy sadness was creeping into my soul. The pain!
We had to finish our drinks and go. Time was up. The loudspeakers were announcing that the time had come to go.
It was like falling helplessly into a black hole.
By the time we walked back to the beach, most passengers had already abandoned the area. The empty chairs now in disarray all about the beach. Towels scattered about. Some forgotten floats here and there. Just a few children remaining in the water. A few parents left, saying to their frolicking kids, "Come out now. I'm not going to say it again. We have to go," and then to their spouses, "I can't get him out. You get him out."
We frantically made our obligatory stop at the gift shop before straggling back to the "Magic" with some of the last faithful beachgoers. Even being of the last, there was still a line to board the ship. Here was the first Disney line that could not have been long enough. Just before the final trudge up the gangway, we rinsed our feet of the sand under the shower on the pier.
Then to our room, where, after dressing for dinner, our room looked not unlike our day at the beach, sand everywhere.
Then our last little excitement, which I wasn't going to tell you about, but which I will now finally give you a hint for : WHEN. YOU. WISH. U. PON. A. STARRR.
Oh my. does there have to be a 17!!!!???
Steve
