I should have realised things wouldnt go completely smoothly when I decided at the 11th hour to repack my case! 
The day before my holiday was spent charging around, running my poor cat to Stalag Nine otherwise known as the local cattery. When last seen, Bella was glowering like a Tasmanian Devil from within her cat box, refusing to emerge despite entreaties. Having obtained a solemn promise from the staff that they would leave a light on for her at all times I have the only cat in the world who is terrified of the dark I gritted my teeth and legged it feeling like a parent abandoning her child to boarding school. 
I then went home, collected bag, baggage and parrot and hiked over to my mothers. We were due for an early start the next morning and Id decided to stop overnight there rather than having an extra journey before meeting the coach. Japha the parrot was going to spend the time shouting abuse at Mums rather genteel neighbours. There goes the neighbourhood!
After my last trip with Leger went a bit sour I was rather nervous when I met the coach at Peterborough Services at Norman Cross last Thursday. The drivers seemed efficient if a bit unfriendly which didnt bode well.
Leger, it seems, were having a busy weekend. As well as several Disneyites there were several lovey-dovey couples heading for Paris for a romantic weekend and many War Veterans on their way to an Armistice service, it being Remembrance weekend. It was rather humbling in some ways. Still, we made for an odd bunch, a mixture of Mickey Mouse t shirts, red poppies and soppy expressions.
Fortunately Id booked for a ferry crossing which was one of the things Leger messed up last time but when we arrived at Dover it was total chaos. There were some 21 Leger coaches due in, bringing travellers from all over. We were ordered off the coaches whilst the drivers shuffled bags from one bay to the other and we stood shivering outside the services whilst we waited for late comers. I was never so glad to hear anything as to hear the summons back to the coaches. As usual Id forgotten to pack gloves so my little mitts were frozen.
Once the chaos of interchange was over we were safely boarded on the ferry the Pride of Kent - and I made my way to the restaurant for grub. Unfortunately everyone else had had the same idea but I was amazed with the speed of service in the restaurant. Its quite dazzling the way they feed the faces of folk! I had perfectly respectable fish and chips with a chunk of black forest gateau that was so large I couldnt eat all of it. Then the lure of the onboard shop called and I poddled around and found a few nice bits to stash away for Christmas. Then it was back on the coach for the 3 ½ hour journey to DLRP
En route, the driver and courier did come out of themselves a little. They werent the chattiest pair but they did eventually put on a couple of films to keep the kids amused. I hadnt seen Stuart Little before so that kept me quiet for a bit.
We arrived at DLRP about 9:30 although Im not entirely sure of that for reasons Ill come to later. Check in, however was different from previous visits. Instead of going straight to the hotel, where we normally receive THE ENVELOPE we were carted to the coach park to be guided in by a very excited cast member waving luminous paddles about as if he were guiding Concorde in to land which caused great hilarity. Apparently they were so concerned about the number of folk flooding in for the Bonfire Spectacular that they didnt want us cluttering up the hotel entrance for the time it took to collect and distribute the guest envelopes. Weird thing is that the very next stop was obviously going to be the hotel where we all piled out and stood about whilst the cases were unloaded. Im not sure how that was going to improve matters myself.
Having squinted at our room allocations we approached a cast member for directions and were told our lodge was over there with a vague wave of the arm. This however was where it all went wrong. The next 45 minutes were spent plodding up and down rustic paths and in and out of lodges as we tried to find our rooms. We found a sign for Big Sur Lodge and got over excited at the thought of our beds, particularly the very tired and grizzly toddler who had been on the road since 4:30 that morning. However, it turned out to be the wrong door and we had to set off again. It was pitch black and very poorly signposted we agreed but just at the point where I was about to suggest that we start leaving a trail of breadcrumbs just in case, some hardy soul found the door to the Big Sur Lodge and we were finally in the right place. Hooray!
What I can never understand is why there are no lifts in some of the lodges. For a place that prides itself on being accessible to disabled and pushchair users, it amazed me to find that there was no lift to upper floors. Yellowstone has one if memory serves but not Big Sur. So there we were tottering exhausted up a flight of stairs, lugging our cases behind us. But we were finally within reach of our rooms.
Or were we?
Three of us stood there, white swipe cards in hand, shoving them in and out of the locks without a scrap of success. Just as I was about to give up with mine it finally let me in.
The room was standard Sequoia Lodge fare. Clean and comfortable what more do you need to be honest. You spend so little time in the room its hardly worth having more than the basics IMHO.
I had planned to trot straight to the Disney Village for a look round but was so kod by the journey and the long plod looking for my room that I decided to confine myself to a short hike to the main hotel building for a quick look round the shop and to reorient myself with the layout of the place. The Christmas décor was lovely, little twinkly lights all along the windows and all around the entrance to the shop. It was really pretty. The bar was packed as usual so I wandered out onto the terrace and caught my first glimpse of Disney Village and Panoramagique. I was amazed at the size of the thing and quickly fished out my camera. I strolled down to the edge of Lake Disney for a closer look. Recent problems at home had put the holiday in real jeopardy so I was thrilled to finally arrive.
I decided to head back to the room for a [reasonably] early night so I would be fresh for the morning. Of course, I managed to get lost again on my way back in the dark and spent a good while wandering about listening to birdsong and piano music until I finally found the entrance to Big Sur but when I got to my room disaster struck again. My door key would not work! I tried it a dozen times but still the blessed thing would not open. The chap in the room opposite happened to come out, he tried with no better success so I had to plod all the way back to reception to ask for a new door key. By the time I eventually got into the room I was completely done in but of course had gone past the point of sleeping. I fished out my travel kettle for a nice cup of hot chocolate which must have done the trick because I eventually dropped off. Thank goodness for that!
The day before my holiday was spent charging around, running my poor cat to Stalag Nine otherwise known as the local cattery. When last seen, Bella was glowering like a Tasmanian Devil from within her cat box, refusing to emerge despite entreaties. Having obtained a solemn promise from the staff that they would leave a light on for her at all times I have the only cat in the world who is terrified of the dark I gritted my teeth and legged it feeling like a parent abandoning her child to boarding school. I then went home, collected bag, baggage and parrot and hiked over to my mothers. We were due for an early start the next morning and Id decided to stop overnight there rather than having an extra journey before meeting the coach. Japha the parrot was going to spend the time shouting abuse at Mums rather genteel neighbours. There goes the neighbourhood!
After my last trip with Leger went a bit sour I was rather nervous when I met the coach at Peterborough Services at Norman Cross last Thursday. The drivers seemed efficient if a bit unfriendly which didnt bode well.
Leger, it seems, were having a busy weekend. As well as several Disneyites there were several lovey-dovey couples heading for Paris for a romantic weekend and many War Veterans on their way to an Armistice service, it being Remembrance weekend. It was rather humbling in some ways. Still, we made for an odd bunch, a mixture of Mickey Mouse t shirts, red poppies and soppy expressions.
Fortunately Id booked for a ferry crossing which was one of the things Leger messed up last time but when we arrived at Dover it was total chaos. There were some 21 Leger coaches due in, bringing travellers from all over. We were ordered off the coaches whilst the drivers shuffled bags from one bay to the other and we stood shivering outside the services whilst we waited for late comers. I was never so glad to hear anything as to hear the summons back to the coaches. As usual Id forgotten to pack gloves so my little mitts were frozen.
Once the chaos of interchange was over we were safely boarded on the ferry the Pride of Kent - and I made my way to the restaurant for grub. Unfortunately everyone else had had the same idea but I was amazed with the speed of service in the restaurant. Its quite dazzling the way they feed the faces of folk! I had perfectly respectable fish and chips with a chunk of black forest gateau that was so large I couldnt eat all of it. Then the lure of the onboard shop called and I poddled around and found a few nice bits to stash away for Christmas. Then it was back on the coach for the 3 ½ hour journey to DLRP
En route, the driver and courier did come out of themselves a little. They werent the chattiest pair but they did eventually put on a couple of films to keep the kids amused. I hadnt seen Stuart Little before so that kept me quiet for a bit.
We arrived at DLRP about 9:30 although Im not entirely sure of that for reasons Ill come to later. Check in, however was different from previous visits. Instead of going straight to the hotel, where we normally receive THE ENVELOPE we were carted to the coach park to be guided in by a very excited cast member waving luminous paddles about as if he were guiding Concorde in to land which caused great hilarity. Apparently they were so concerned about the number of folk flooding in for the Bonfire Spectacular that they didnt want us cluttering up the hotel entrance for the time it took to collect and distribute the guest envelopes. Weird thing is that the very next stop was obviously going to be the hotel where we all piled out and stood about whilst the cases were unloaded. Im not sure how that was going to improve matters myself.
Having squinted at our room allocations we approached a cast member for directions and were told our lodge was over there with a vague wave of the arm. This however was where it all went wrong. The next 45 minutes were spent plodding up and down rustic paths and in and out of lodges as we tried to find our rooms. We found a sign for Big Sur Lodge and got over excited at the thought of our beds, particularly the very tired and grizzly toddler who had been on the road since 4:30 that morning. However, it turned out to be the wrong door and we had to set off again. It was pitch black and very poorly signposted we agreed but just at the point where I was about to suggest that we start leaving a trail of breadcrumbs just in case, some hardy soul found the door to the Big Sur Lodge and we were finally in the right place. Hooray!
What I can never understand is why there are no lifts in some of the lodges. For a place that prides itself on being accessible to disabled and pushchair users, it amazed me to find that there was no lift to upper floors. Yellowstone has one if memory serves but not Big Sur. So there we were tottering exhausted up a flight of stairs, lugging our cases behind us. But we were finally within reach of our rooms.
Or were we?
Three of us stood there, white swipe cards in hand, shoving them in and out of the locks without a scrap of success. Just as I was about to give up with mine it finally let me in.
The room was standard Sequoia Lodge fare. Clean and comfortable what more do you need to be honest. You spend so little time in the room its hardly worth having more than the basics IMHO.
I had planned to trot straight to the Disney Village for a look round but was so kod by the journey and the long plod looking for my room that I decided to confine myself to a short hike to the main hotel building for a quick look round the shop and to reorient myself with the layout of the place. The Christmas décor was lovely, little twinkly lights all along the windows and all around the entrance to the shop. It was really pretty. The bar was packed as usual so I wandered out onto the terrace and caught my first glimpse of Disney Village and Panoramagique. I was amazed at the size of the thing and quickly fished out my camera. I strolled down to the edge of Lake Disney for a closer look. Recent problems at home had put the holiday in real jeopardy so I was thrilled to finally arrive.
I decided to head back to the room for a [reasonably] early night so I would be fresh for the morning. Of course, I managed to get lost again on my way back in the dark and spent a good while wandering about listening to birdsong and piano music until I finally found the entrance to Big Sur but when I got to my room disaster struck again. My door key would not work! I tried it a dozen times but still the blessed thing would not open. The chap in the room opposite happened to come out, he tried with no better success so I had to plod all the way back to reception to ask for a new door key. By the time I eventually got into the room I was completely done in but of course had gone past the point of sleeping. I fished out my travel kettle for a nice cup of hot chocolate which must have done the trick because I eventually dropped off. Thank goodness for that!
off to read part 2 
