How to Beat the Winter Blues ...

[sterghe]

OK, why does a Mom without a lot of extra time decide to quit lurking on these magical boards and start posting a trip report? Good question. I'm sure I'll find more than one good answer along the way, but I'll leave the question hanging for now.

A better question, perhaps, is, "Why start posting now?" That one's easy. I called the DVC this morning to confirm our Magical Express rides for January, and the excited CM who answered the phone told us we shouldn't do that yet, because our waitlisted reservations for Beach Club Villas had just come up as available! I checked with my partner to be sure that yes, we still wanted to stay at BC rather than our second choice (Boardwalk), and my house erupted into happy shouts and much partying. So much, in fact, that the friendly CM fortunate enough to be the bearer of such happy news joined in the merriment and--I'm sure--is still laughing somewhere at having made two adults and a pair of teenagers start acting like six-year-olds who just gulped high-caff frozen mochas.

Now, however, my teens have settled back into their routine, my partner's watching a Star Trek Voyager rerun on television, and no one is bouncing around my kitchen laughing any more. Meanwhile, since I was the one on the telephone with business to conduct this morning, I didn't get to leap around shouting with everyone else, and now whoever stumbles across this board gets to read my virtual squeals of delight instead.

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That's enough to hint at my family composition, but since most of the better trip reports seem to open with a cast of characters, I'll start there, too:

GrrlInTheMoon: My partner, a fantastic maternity nurse and a Disneyphile to the core. I think she's managed to read most of the trip reports here, and her incredible memory for detail allows her to quote awesome tips from the Dis at all the best times while we're in the World ourselves.

The Dolphin: Our son, age 16. He's a lifeguard, swim instructor, swim team captain ... you get the idea. Now you know why I picked the pseudonym for him. Quieter by nature than the rest of our family, he's less likely to break into a jitterbug in the kitchen because a waitlisted room came through unexpectedly. But Disney's enough to bring out the dancing banana even in him.

ChiropteraGirl: Our daughter, age 15-in-a-few-days, who taught us that allowing homeschooled children unfettered access to public libraries can produce unexpected results. Her lifelong fascination with bats (genus chiroptera) vies with her incredible vocal talent for the right to direct her career path ... but she points out that it's remotely possible to combine both by working at the Animal Kingdom ...

Me: An ordinary mom who's mostly at home these days. I also teach math and computer literacy to adults, but if I expand on that sentence too much this'll start to sound like a resume intead of a trip report, and I don't want that! I don't know whether I or GrrlInTheMoon would rightfully lay claim to being the more devoted Disneyphile ... I designed the interactive "Sterghe's REAL Disney Planning Tool" we use on our computer, but she's definitely read more online reports. She's the one who suggested elevating her passion to the status of a religion, though, proposing that the Disney-decorated shelf in our living room represent the first known altar to Disneyism, so maybe she'd win that one.

Our household also includes a lovely mixed-breed dog and two ever-curious cats, who are unfortunately denied the pleasure of full participation in the Disney experience. Poor beasts.

And by final way of introduction, perhaps I should mention that dining represents both a great passion for all of us, and a particular challenge for our family. My daughter's a vegetarian (has been for some six years now ... similar caution about supporting kids' free choices as I made about allowing access to public libraries!), and I have a *severe* dairy allergy. Did you ever notice that often, the "accommodations" made for food allergies seem to be geared for children with no appreciation of fine cuisine? That's definitely NOT me ... so Disney's chefs are among my personal heroes. For that matter, if you ever find yourself organizing a luncheon or dinner for a large group, and the banquet facility offers an allergen-free meal accommodation, please do your guests a favor and insist on something other than the plain chicken breast, salad, and plain baked-potato. That's the easily Kosher, low-sodium, low-fat, no-dairy, no-wheat, no-soy, no-nut, no-gluten, no-TASTE meal they offer first to whomever mentions any accommodation need. But, I digress. I apologize.

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Previous trips:
December, 1984, afternoon at Disneyland as part of a high school band trip. Doesn't really count with GrrlInTheMoon, ChiropteraGirl, and The Dolphin!
June 2006, POFQ, the 10-day "trip of a lifetime" we thought we'd only be able to make once, until on our very last day on site we decided to go take a look at the DVC pitch just to get to see another part of the World ...
March 2007, when we showed off our points-purchased OKW two-bedroom suite by hosting my in-laws for a magical week with the Mouse

This trip, with the pre-report starting here and continuing:
Jan. 23-29, 2008: AND WE JUST GOT OUR WAITLIST STUDIO AT THE BEACH CLUB! *dancing joyfully around the kitchen amid squeals of delight, because it's my turn now!*

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OK, so you only got an introduction and some insight into how ridiculous a simple phone call can make my family. Some of you are probably even thinking, "You gave up Boardwalk for Beach Club? How could you?" But then again, if you're thinking that, there's more to read by now. I just really don't think anyone other than my family's likely to start paying much attention to this thread from an unknown DIS-lurker that quickly!

More to come ...

 

[sterghe]

OK, since all's quiet again, I'll try writing a little more of this trip report. (Yes, I know, it's a pre-report right now, but I plan to continue it right through the trip. It'll all work out.)

With introductions in place, the next thing worth posting would appear to be The Master Plan. The Master Plan is set in stone, and cannot be changed. Unless we read another dining review and decide to change our Priority Seating non-reservations yet again ... or the exuberant cast member from DVC calls us back and says that we managed to get our last night changed from Boardwalk to Beach Club too ... or ... get it? Change "set in stone" to "entered in an unprotected Excel file." There. That's better!

Still, with much wiggling, and some non-reservations made wayyyy in advance that we wouldn't want to try to adjust, here it is:

Day 1, Jan. 23, 2008:
We get up ridiculously early because we're "too excited to sleep!" (remember the commercial?) anyway, and head for the Philadelphia airport, where we will shiver our way to the terminal from long-term parking because there's no WAY we're taking heavy winter coats with us to Orlando. We'll wait with silly grins in long lines alongside businessfolk who hope they don't have to sit next to the family giggling excitedly about their vacation plans, and hopefully get to see the sun rise from the airplane.

This first bit of the trip is going to go fine, really. I say that with the determination of a woman stating what should be the obvious with the clear intent of making it so. Not only is Philadelphia's airport a place of possible delays and such in January, but for my last trip on an airplane (home from our last WDW stay), we got to board early with me in an airport wheelchair after getting emergency care because I breathed in someone's Doritos dust in the line to check our luggage. This was *not fun.* Why exactly do people in airports have to throw away water bottles while being allowed to fill the air with toxic cheese dust indiscriminately? Don't they all know that some people have dairy allergies? It's a good thing my partner's a nurse; last time ambulance staff handled my weird allergic reactions, I ended up missing out on the fun of my own helicopter ride just because I was unconscious, and waking up more than a Disney-vacation-week later in ICU in a faraway hospital. With my partner's inside-knowledge help, though, it's a fairly quick fix, if not a happy ride.

It doesn't matter. As I said before, this first bit of the trip is going to go fine.

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We'll land in Orlando a little before lunchtime, where we will board the Magical Express knowing we're now officially guests of our favorite Mouse. Someone else will handle our luggage and worry about all those other little details, like directions and traffic and weather conditions and schedules, while we watch a half-hour commercial on the on-bus TV promoting the place we're visiting anyway, or look out the window at the Bible-based amusement park that's already very close to drawing my mother's tourist dollars as a pilgrim who doesn't want the bother associated with a real visit to the Holy Land.

And this hassle-free excursion will be free to fly-in guests at the World. Hooray! (OK, free after a fistful of points and $5,000 or so. Close enough.) Hooray!

We did this last time, too, and loved it. The first time we visited the World, we took Amtrak. We absolutely LOVED riding the train, and I'd recommend it to anyone who's never done it. But there's no Magical Express from the train station. Why not, Disney?

Oh well. That's another story.

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As soon as we check in at the front desk to the BEACH CLUB!!! we will head over to the Magic Kingdom. Our room won't be ready, but that's fine; we don't want to stick around yet anyway. And, this is why we left the heavy coats back in the snowy Northland!

Magic Kingdom comes first for two reasons. The simpler reason is that it contains Columbia Harbor House, which will have an incredible hummus sandwich (the Lighthouse) waiting just for me, and another for my daughter. Last visit I got half a sandwich with a bowl of chili, and I learned that the chili isn't half as good as my own, but the sandwich makes up for it! This time I'll get a whole sandwich, which I know will be heavenly after a long morning and a delayed lunchtime.

The second reason for visiting Magic Kingdom first is Brick. Brick is a guy--and yes, that's really his name--who works at Guest Services in the Magic Kingdom. He definitely contributed to our purchase of a DVC membership, so I hope Disney knows he's worth every penny they pay him and then some!

The first time we visited Disney World, we happened to go to Guest Services at the Magic Kingdom to get my Guest Assistance Pass. That's the magic little red card that says I don't have to wait in twisting, impossible-to-escape lines crowded with Doritos-chompers. Brick was friendly and very helpful that first visit, cheerfully making me a card and marking on it that my family could accompany me through alternate entrances.

The second time we visited Disney World, we happened to go to Guest Services at the Animal Kingdom to get my Guest Assistance Pass. A CM who will remain nameless, but was NOT Brick, told me that my family couldn't be listed on my pass with me; it was only for me. I was very upset, but he was adamant. The best he could offer was that I could wait at the alternate entrance until my family made their way through the line.

Anyone who's ever visited WDW knows that half the park time is spent in those lines. All the conversation, all the giggling, all the planning of the rest of the day, all of everything else, I was supposed to sit out by myself at an alternate entrance waiting for everyone else? Or, alternately, should I risk waiting in a line and hope every single person obeyed the unenforced regulation not to eat in line? (Have you ever seen toddlers with those little cheese Goldfish in line? Yep! Do you want to be the one telling their mothers the kid can't have them??)

Neither outcome would be at all a happy picture, so I'll skip ahead past an unpleasant "Dinosaur" story to the part where I tearfully called the DVC Member Services line for lack of knowledge of who else might help. Whether or not there was a policy allowing it, they called someone who called someone, and Guest Services finally added my family to my pass. The CM there, though, grumbled and complained while he did it, loudly trying to make me feel guilty for requesting what's actually a completely reasonable accommodation. (I don't abuse my pass, promise!) Let's just say he was not Brick.

Anyway, this time we're going to MK first, in hopes of finding Brick again! Last I checked, he still worked there ...

(I should probably mention that almost all our encounters with Cast Members have been sparklingly positive, and that grumble-guy was clearly the exception. Also, I do not intend for this trip report to focus on the little bit of irritation in a World that absolutely succeeds in making real magic for our family!)

Magic Kingdom for our first afternoon "home" should be ... well ... magical! What to do first? The Fantasyland dark rides I love so much? The Barnstormer, which GrrlInTheMoon and ChiropteraGrrl missed last trip because they waited in line for an hour to collect a signature from an actor pretending to be Johnny Depp pretending to be a pirate (which they swear was worth every minute!) while The Dolphin and I ran breathlessly from one ride to another at the end of the Pirates and Princesses party, before ending our evening with as many rounds of Astroblaster as we could squeeze in before they closed the park? So many choices!

Whatever we choose, I'm sure we'll end the afternoon with smiles before heading over for dinner at 7:40 at Boma ... the fantastic land of the Coconut Curry Seafood Stew. I don't care what else they have that night; we're going back for the creamy luxury of mussels, shrimp, scallops, and more basking in their Coconut Curry hot tub of a soup bowl ... or at least, I am. My daughter, the vegetarian, won't touch it. My partner likes neither seafood nor curry, so she's out. My son, though, shares my love of seafood, so I'm sure he'll have at least one cup to wash down his thick slices of roast beef, exotic breads, savory veggies, and pre-ice-cream dessert plate. (I did mention he's a sixteen-year-old boy AND an athlete, right? Can you guess how heartily the boy can eat?)

With full bellies, I expect we'll be exhausted, so we'll finally head over to our studio at the BEACH CLUB VILLAS!!!! (remember this morning's phone call?) to collapse in happy comfort. Our bags will await us in the room, with my favorite fuzzy-fleece jammies offering the perfect cozy end to a perfect first day "home."

Hm. This is rather a long start to describing The Master Plan, isn't it? I suppose I talk too much. But then again, you didn't have to read this far!

Still, I'll continue in a separate post, for simplicity's sake.

 

[50 years Too!]

Sounds good so far.
Here's hoping for no storms for you!

Deb

 

[sterghe]

Day One posted … on with the Plan! Perhaps I’m putting far too much detail in this pre-trip-sketch of the Master Plan. But, half the fun in visiting is in planning the visit, at least for me, and most of the fun in planning is in the dreaming, the imagining, the envisioning of that pivotal carefree week of vacation in which all the planning will ultimately culminate. Right?

Day 2, Jan. 24, 2008:
We left the morning a little ambiguous, not knowing for certain how tired we’ll feel after yesterday’s journey home. Will we sleep a bit late, luxuriating in the soft colors and balcony view? We’ve requested a fifth-floor room facing Epcot, so perhaps we’ll have gotten exactly that, and now that it’s daylight we’ll get a good look at the vista beyond our window. (To be really specific, we followed the Unofficial Guide’s recommendation and requested an odd-numbered room numbered 529-551. Yeah, we’re those people.)

Or, will we rise early, still fueled by enthusiasm sufficiently to scurry off to the Animal Kingdom in time to beat the crowds? Who knows?

Either way, we’ve already scored a table at the brand-new Yak and Yeti restaurant for the earliest possible lunch seating. Since ordering’s not an option until after I talk with the chef, and since the first question the chef’s going to ask is, “What were you thinking of ordering?” it’s a lot easier if I know the answer to that question before I ever walk in the door. Otherwise, the chef’s at the table, I’m dithering over the scrumptious options described on the menu, and it’s all just a big time lag.

Fortunately, though, the wonders of the Internet have pre-equipped me with recent menus from allearsnet.com, and often even recipes given to previous guests who’ve requested them and who were generous enough to post them online. Recipes can change on a daily basis, of course, as can menus, so the preview is of course never enough to replace a quick chat with the chef, but it keeps me from holding up the Head Kitchen Honcho while I mumble, “Oooh! It all looks so good! Do I want the coconut-crusted mahi mahi or the maple-glazed steak?” (Yeah, that’s a non-option combo example that assumes I’m simultaneously dining at Kona and Le Cellier, but that’s what wandering through happy memories’ll do to a woman.)

In this case, happily, I still have more than a month to decide if the lettuce cups look so awesome that I’ll have them even with the distinctly similar-sounding maple tamarind chicken, or if I should forgo one or the other in favor of, say, the steamed mussels or the Shaoxing steak and shrimp. Actually, of course, that’s the “plump” steamed mussels. A couple years ago, reading our first PassPorter—we now have three, with the most recent being a pre-ordered deluxe version worth every penny—we came across Dave’s description of “plump steamed mussels” at some Disney restaurant or another, and I immediately fell head-over-heels for the food-porn language. Ever since then, mussels offered as Disney appetizers are always “plump steamed mussels.” (And for what it’s worth, every chef so far has been able to prepare them without dairy, whatever the menu description. Le Cellier even improvised an exquisite white-wine sauce to replace its standard cream sauce, that merits entry in some upper-echelon culinary contest for its mouth-watering success.) So, what will it be? Come on, Sterghe, you’ve only a month and a half to decide!

The afternoon’s open, again. We’d originally planned to stick around AK for the afternoon parade before heading back to the room to change into spiffier duds for our evening meal—more on that in a moment—but GrrlInTheMoon says that’s not the current plan. I’m thinking we may want more time in Epcot, our favorite park … but who knows? The Master Plan is set, not in stone, but in an unprotected Excel file, remember?

In any case, tonight we have planned one of the jewels of our trip … drumroll, please … California Grill! We know to check in early for our perfectly-timed 7:20 non-reservation, and let them know immediately that we’d like a window seat and we’re willing to wait for it if needed. If it gets to be 7:45 and we still don’t have the table we’d like, we’ll take another, but with any luck we’ll be perfectly positioned to watch the fireworks close the day over the Magic Kingdom, enjoying the music piped in to the restaurant to bring the magic of the occasion to every diner. See what making a Master Plan and calling early can accomplish? Awesome!

And that’s not all. Yet another friendly CM on the Disney Dining Line—there are so many great people working for Disney!—shared all his favorite dining secrets with us. Among them was the advice to compliment the server on something, anything, as soon as we’re seated, and then immediately order the chocolate soufflé for dessert. It’s apparently one of their big show-offy special deals, but takes such a long time to make that most diners aren’t able to get it; it’s too late to order it after the rest of the meal is eaten. I won’t be able to eat it, of course, but I expect to relish every second of watching my family appreciate it. And, I plan to call the restaurant about a week in advance, to talk with the chef about whether they can manage something more interesting than Tofutti ice cream. I love the soy ice cream—don’t get me wrong—but this is a signature dining experience, right? If it’s possible, I want some fancy dessert with a title led by a food-porn adjective too!

When we’ve watched the sky over Cinderella’s castle fill with sparkles at our lofty eye-level, completed our jewel of a meal, and treasured our desserts, it’ll be time to leave the California Grill. But, the day won’t quite be over. We plan to stroll away a few of our well-earned calories by heading down to the water’s edge in time for the Electrical Water Pageant to pass at about 9:20. Only then, tummies and palates happy and eyes done feasting on spectacular light shows, will we return to our studio to end our second day “home.”

Next up ... Day Three of The Master Plan.

 

[sterghe]

My first-ever actual reply! You mean someone out there is really reading this? All right! There's some incentive to write more tomorrow! It's time for me to be off the computer for tonight, but I'm having so much fun I'll have to keep going tomorrow.

Thank you for the note, Deb!

 

[winkers]

wow, I had no idea that doritos dust could be so toxic! Next time I eat them in public I'll make sure I lick my fingers well!

Great report!

 

[sterghe]

With the snow piling up outside, I'm supposed to get to indulge in Disney fantasizing. But, The Dolphin has questions about the Civil War, ChiropteraGirl seems to think I should check her algebra, and the day has gotten away from me. I do have about two pages written, though, and will try to post them later tonight, when both my children return to their native habitats: The Dolphin to swim practice, and ChiropteraGirl to chorus rehearsal.

It's coming soon, I promise!