Chapter 1: The Secret To Surviving Air Travel? Fists With Your Toes.
We were a little rusty at this whole “traveling without the kids” thing.
First, a confession: I’m one of the few people left in America who still actually enjoys air travel. I know, the TSA and the airlines have done their very best to suck all the joy and fun out of it, but I remain fascinated by the ability to safely travel all over the country in a matter of a few hours at an altitude of 35,000 feet. I love getting the window seat and looking down on the earth below, a perspective that never grows old.
I do, however, hate trying to herd 4 kids, a stroller, and several bags through the check-in and security lines. The prospect of walking through an airport accompanied by only my wife and minimal baggage was a brand-new concept. As we packed the car, it was hard not to shake the feeling that we were forgetting something. We usually have that feeling anyway, but I think it was magnified by not having to take nearly as much crap as is typical.
Nope, it wasn’t the baby. We secured him in his car seat and drove to my parents’ house. The older kids were already at school and my parents would be picking them up later. It didn’t take long to unload the kids’ bags. We said our goodbyes, stepped outside, and with a noticeable lack of ceremony, we drove away.
It’s 106 miles to Baltimore, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark…and we’re wearing sunglasses.
Actually, it was 86 miles, the tank was 75% full, neither of us smokes, and there was bright sunlight. But we were wearing sunglasses.
The point is: we were free! Free at last! As soon as we left the development and hit the open road, I floored the gas pedal to leave the shackles of responsibility behind. We sped on, 5 miles, 10 miles, 15, blasting through rural Delaware with dreams of Dole Whips dancing in our heads. Julie and I couldn’t stop grinning at each other. I looked in the rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse through the window just over the baby’s car seat of the city of Dover disappearing into the horizon. Glorious freedom! All of our worries and frustrations dwindling in that rear-view mirror, just over the—
The baby’s car seat.
Still in the car. We didn’t leave it at my parents’ house.
Man, we suck at this.
We pulled over and called my parents, and my mother drove out to meet us halfway at a gas station we’d passed on the way out of town. We gave her the car seat and thanked her profusely for driving out to meet us. We climbed back into the car and set off again for Baltimore. So…where was I?
Freedom! Glorious freedom!
We made it to BWI with no further incident. Parked the car in long-term parking, got to the terminal, check our bag, did the TSA Tango, and grabbed our first gourmet meal of the trip at the Arby’s in the BWI food court. Hey, even Arby’s tastes good when you’re not differentiating 6 different orders, silencing the whiny kid who would rather eat at McDonald’s, strapping the baby into a high chair too with a belt that doesn’t seem to stretch far enough to close securely, and racing to grab napkins to wipe up the spilled Pepsi.
Speaking of Pepsi, Julie ordered a Diet Pepsi with her meal. The guy at the counter asked if she’d tried the new Diet Pepsi yet. It’s now aspartame-free. Julie said no, so he said he’d give her a sample in a tiny Dixie cup. She took a sip, and immediately made the Beverly face. Then she ordered a regular Pepsi.
So now we know that the (very thin) line separating diet sodas and Beverly is in fact aspartame. I was never one to tempt fate by drinking that diet crap anyway, though.
We flew Southwest Airlines to Orlando. Southwest has mastered the art of filling up their planes to capacity for each flight, and getting everyone to buy the “early seating” option to ensure that they get to board the plane first and have their choice of seats. Julie and I are too cheap for that, so we checked in precisely 24 hours ahead of the flight time and still got stuck in the back of the B group. Oh, well. We got to sit together, and that’s all that mattered.
2 hours and a few chapters of a decent book later, we could see palm trees outside of our window.
Does that ever get old? I’ll answer that for you: no. No, it doesn’t.
I’ll never understand why everyone on a plane stands up as soon as the plane arrives at the gate. You’re sitting in row 21. You’re not going anywhere for a while. We took the time to put on our Disney Magic Bands®, so we could clearly label ourselves as Disney property for the next few days.
Once we were off the plane, we took the Not-A-Monorail to the main terminal. We stopped by the Universal Studios store to scout out the Harry Potter paraphernalia. Since we knew we’d have to bring back bribes for the kids on our return, and my daughter Sarah is the World’s Biggest Harry Potter Fan (as determined by a biased non-scientific family poll), we figured it would be a good place to look. I grabbed a few photos and texted them to Sarah to see if anything particularly caught her eye. I got this response:
This is going to be interesting when we finally break down and take her to Universal Studios. I should start applying for loans now.
With our choices helpfully narrowed down, we skipped the baggage claim (that never gets old, either) and headed for the Magical Express. Just ahead of us there was a massive crowd of people, easily 50 or so, walking slowly and blocking our path. Just our luck. Thankfully, they stopped short of the ME lines to re-group, so we audibled to a jet sweep and broke into the open field, just like the Eagles when they—sorry, bad example. Just like a team with a functional running back and offensive line.
The ME desk gave us our first chance to use the Magic Bands at the “tapstiles” (®@pkondz). There we learned that you couldn’t just tap it and go, but had to hold it there at an awkward angle until the light-up spinny-thingy (technical term) turned green. It took a couple of tries to get the hang of it, but we were up to the challenge.
We had not paid for the Express Bus Pass, but somehow we lucked out and the bus pulled away within a couple minutes of boarding. I’d already receive the text that our room was ready and we could bypass the front desk, so we settled in with the other people who’d already booked a Walt Disney World vacation to watch a video telling us why we should book a Walt Disney World vacation.
We lucked out again: the Polynesian Resort was the first stop. Julie and I got off the bus and immediately got le—uh, the greeter gave us leis and greeted us with a warm Aloha! We walked through the doors and were immediately met with the Disney Smell. I’m not sure what it is, but all Disney resorts and buildings smell the same. We even noticed it in Aulani and
Disneyland. It’s one of those little things that tells you you’re home.
Our room was in the Moorea building. If you don’t know the layout of the Polynesian Village Resort, here’s a handy map.
As you can see, Moorea is in the upper-right corner of the property. We would soon learn that our room was in the farthest corner of the farthest building from the main lobby.
Just outside on the lawn, the torch-lighting ceremony had begun. So we stood and watched the fire-dancers for a bit. I love these little bits of magic. It’s what makes Disney, Disney. Sorry about the lousy photo—we didn’t have the good camera out of the bag yet.
We began the long walk to our room. Thank goodness the “We’re at Disney World!” adrenaline was still pumping. We finally entered the Moorea building near the Men In Black exam chairs:
We were in room 1039. It was one of the new DVC Polynesian studios, as the room discount had given us a better deal on that one vs. the standard rooms. I thought they looked great inside.
I loved the art on the wall next to the pull-down bed under the TV:
And you can’t beat a tiki lamp.
Art in the bathroom:
We didn’t stay long in the room. We had a dinner reservation to keep. As I mentioned in the opening, 4 out of our 5 ADR’s were going to be new to us. The first was one that came highly recommended by many of our friends both here on the boards and at home—Boma: Flavors of Africa.
It was at this point that we made a discovery: instead of being a liability, our location at the very end of the Moorea building was actually a blessing in disguise. We were less than a 5-minute walk from the Transportation and Ticket Center, which made it very easy to move around the resort. Within a few minutes we were standing on the upper level of the Admiral Joe Fowler (using the ferry here was new to us, too) and enjoying this view as we floated towards the Magic Kingdom:
I think it was at this point that I wrapped Julie in my arms and said something to the effect of, “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.” We both agreed there that it felt like we were getting away with something. We’d never seen the castle’s icicle lights in person before, and they were breathtaking, even from a distance.
We turned right at the dock and went to the bus-loading area for the Animal Kingdom Lodge. There, our bus luck immediately ran out as we sat and waited for about fifteen minutes. Maybe that Express Bus Pass is only offered in Canada.
Eventually, we arrived at the Animal Kingdom Lodge. That’s one of my favorite buildings ever. The theme there is second to none. It makes my jaw drop every time I walk into the lobby in Jambo House. And then when you see the place decked out for the holidays…
You know what? Let’s just never leave.
Boma: Flavors of Africa is a buffet featuring African-inspired dishes (with plenty of American-ized offerings for your less adventurous dining companions). We’ve never eaten here, because our children are not adventurous eaters.
Ok, fine. I’m not an adventurous eater.
But I figured it’s a buffet. I’d be able to find something. I’d heard amazing raves about the soups here, but I found myself ignoring them once I read the labels. Curry? No thanks. Coconut? Nope. Squash? Might as well be brussels sprouts mixed with rat poison. However, the server recommended a soup called mulligatawny, saying it was made from chicken and apples, was somewhat sweet and was terrific served over rice. Sounded good, so I gave that one a shot. Then I loaded up on meat and starches, like a proper Ugly American should.
Julie has a slightly broader palate. She liked the fufu, which is a mix of mashed and sweet potatoes. They also had a cranberry relish that she raved about.
I loved the meats. And the tamarind bbq sauce. They were serving turkey since it was the holiday season, as well as chicken and grilled beef strip loin. I went for several helpings, since it’s a buffet and you have to make sure you get good value for your money. As far as the mulligatawney goes, I liked it ok. But it had some heat to it, and I couldn't taste any apples or sweetness at all.
We availed ourselves of the desserts as well. Julie declared zebra domes her new favorite thing ever, at least until she discovers the next one.
All in all, Boma gets a hearty two thumbs-up from both the adventurous and the non-adventurous eater. There was enough variety that I think even our kids would do well here.
My wife had not had a hot meal in thirteen years. Our server was nice enough to take a photo to record this momentous occasion, complete with the absence of squirmy, screaming children begging to get out of the high chair.
I’d say we were off to a darn good start. We even timed our return trip just right. We rode a bus back to the Magic Kingdom, hustled over to the ferry (the Admiral Joe Fowler once again), and climbed to the top deck just in time.
I have to say, if you can’t be in the park itself, watching the fireworks from the ferry proved to be a pretty spectacular location.
Even better, this particular evening was a Christmas Party evening, so we were pleasantly surprised at the end of the show when the fireworks went widescreen on us.
Seeing the entire sky light up, reflected on the water, was a fantastic start to our mini-vacation.
We didn’t quite shut down for the evening. We went back to the Great Ceremonial House to wander the lobby and the shops, and just enjoy the fact that (pinch us!) we were actually staying at the Polynesian Village Resort. One of our goals for the trip was to see the various Christmas decorations at all of the resorts, so this was an easy way to check another one off the list.
I wasn’t sure I’d be happy with the new lobby since they’d removed the big waterfall garden, but now that I’ve seen it, I like the new one better. It’s more roomy and bright, and seems to fit a deluxe resort a little better.
I can say this, of course, from my extensive experience staying at high-end deluxe resorts all the time.
For some reason, we took photos of the decorations on the tree, but not the tree itself. I guess along with these milestone birthdays come more frequent brain farts.
I love the fishing globes hanging from the ceiling. They give the place an exotic feel.
Eventually, we stopped trying to do mental arithmetic on the items that caught our eyes in the gift shop and resigned ourselves to a second mortgage. Having made that decision, we walked back to our room. Rope Drop waits for no one, after all.
Coming Up Next: Experimental Prototype Christmas Decorations.
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aboard! And 6 kids! God bless you. Jim Gaffigan once said that having 4 kids was like this:- I helped oversee Y2K AF conversions (we like acronyms - I was an O3 at that time). Today we refer to them more as Software Validation Protocols and Reports as Office Space kind of forced a change in meaning (now refers to more of wasted garbage type things you have to do which actually could be most lol). The cover sheets contain approvals showing they are complete.
Gets 'em every time.
Now, onto the first chapter.
