Part 1. If it werent for the millions of tour groups, this park would be empty
Im sure, gentle reader, that you do not care what kind of a wakeup call I had this morning. (At least, I hope not because I didnt write it down and have no earthly idea what it was.) Just know that it WASNT the classic Mickey wakeup call. And that makes me very angry, earthling, very angry indeed. Makes me want to shoot the phone with my explosive space modulator. Or start a
Bring Back Mickey Calls petition. Or write an angrily written letter to the CEO.
I have a big bowl of oatmeal, a big cup of coffee, a big morning constitutional, and Im ready to go. I rip out the Animal Kingdom touring plan and walk out the door.
I walk over to the main building. No Official Port Orleans French Quarter Door Openers this morning. No personal serenading. Dammit.
Then I walk to the bus stop. Sure, there are other guests here. But when the Animal Kingdom bus comes, I am the only one getting on. And when I step inside, I am the only one on the bus (besides the driver of course).
AK bus driver goes to Riverside today. That in itself bears mentioning because it seems completely arbitrary whether or not the French Quarter busses make it to Riverside. So this driver has Riverside on his route today. He goes to the first stop, opens the doors, and waits. No one gets on. He takes off. Go to the next Riverside stop: repeat. Go to the third stop: no one is there. Go to the final Riverside bus stop: doors open, we wait, doors close, and were off to Animal Kingdom me and my personal driver. On a big honking bus. Is this a sign of a light crowd park day? One can only hope.
No one to blame for the smell but myself.
I read once that a good rule of thumb is to visit a park the day after it has Extra Magic Hours. The psychology being that people arent going to visit a park two days in a row. Let me tell you I have tested this theory, with some mixed results. But overall I do think it is a good idea.
After rope drop, I immediately hang left toward the lockers. I have dressy clothes for dinner with me and I really dont feel like carrying them around with me all day. I pay the hundred dollar deposit or whatever it costs these days, find my locker, and toss my stuff inside. Then I walk with the rest of the masses over to Expedition Everest. Im pretty excited about this ride for two reasons: One, Im a roller coaster junkie. And b), the last time I was here, EE was open but I was pregnant and therefore unable to ride. It absolutely killed me to stand there and watch hundreds of roller coaster riders zoom past me, screaming in joyous terror, while I waited 45 minutes for my mom and sister to ride the thing. I do remember showing some poor woman next to me pictures of my unborn baby to pass the time.
Well, THIS was my time. Touring plan in hand, I walk to the FastPass machines (which were not stocked with idiot guests, happily enough) and get my FastPass. Thats when I run into a man who is holding the Unofficial Guide touring plan in his hand too. I make a comment about it and he tells me that his family has been using it for their vacation and so far they havent waited in line for more than twenty minutes. That was good news, I thought. And, as if mocking the Touring Plan Gods, I figure what the heck, and I jump into line with the rest of the park. Im pulling a Toy Story Mania again
getting a FastPass and jumping in line. But, unlike Toy Story, this line was literally five minutes. The next thing I knew I was getting into a train car and buckling my belt.
Now, I have ridden many a roller coaster in my day. So it takes a lot to surprise or impress me. Because of reading countless spoilers, I knew what to expect
until the thing shot backwards and up. It was a sensation I have never, ever experienced before. It was exhilarating! I was whooping and laughing and loving every backwards moment of it.
So I do what any red-blooded American would do. As soon as I get off, I get right back in line again. And I kid you not the line is once again five minutes long. Its deceiving, really, when you see scores of tourists piling into the building. You think this thing would fill up quickly. But five minutes later and Im back in a train car and ready for some monster-loving. This is THE day for going to Animal Kingdom, it seems.
Once my second journey to the Himalayas is over, I notice that the standby line creeps up to twenty minutes, so I decide not to push my luck a third time. I do have a FastPass, after all. And that would be three rides in one day. Not a bad way to make up for lost time, says I.
I consulted my touring plans.
If you have small children, ride TriceraTop Spin in Dinoland. I indeed DO have a small child, but since he isnt with me I decide to skip this step.
Proceed to Dinosaur, the next step says. Okay, if you insist.
Before I step foot in Dinoland, let me say that this is the first day of experiencing Brazilian tour groups. You cannot miss them. At all. Now, they are not the loud and obnoxious brats Ive been reading about. In fact, they all seemed very polite and organized. But you cannot miss them because they all wear the same t-shirt. Each group has their own dedicated Shirt Of The Day, usually with the Disney name on it, along with some Portuguese writing. The leader usually has a leader flag for everyone to follow. And holy crap, they have some large groups! Some as large as 60, 70, maybe 80 people or more. All in the same shirt. You really cant miss them. Did I mention that you can't miss them? Today, they were taking over Animal Kingdom. I must have seen five or six different groups.
Okay, Ill step into Dinoland now.
So Im approaching the Dinosaur building when I see a woman taking a picture of her family in front of the Dinosaur statue.
Hold up, let me say something else first.
Since this is my first solo adventure, one thing I promised myself before I even stepped on the airplane in Michigan was that I would enjoy Disney in a different way. Since I was alone, I could come and go on my schedule. But it was also the chance to stop a lot along the way. Notice the details. Talk to the cast members. Be extra kind to the guests
which included offering to take group photos. Lots of group photos. But only if they had a simple point-and-shoot camera. No cameras with complicated aperture features or f-stops or telephoto lenses or doohickies or whachamacallits or anything. By Day 7 I had offered to take countless family photos and wasnt turned down once. I really enjoyed doing that, and I did it every chance I could. (Funny enough, no one ever reciprocated the offer.)
So Im walking toward Dinosaur and I see a woman taking a picture of her family. I step in, excuse myself, and offer to take a picture of the entire family.
I guess, she says, sighing. Like posing wont be too much of a bother. Like it would be my privilege to do so. She hands me the camera and walks over to the rest of her group in front of the statue.
But I dont let her strange flippant attitude ruin my mood. I have everyone remove their shoes and step in the fountain (ancient European tradition, you know), and I get ready to take the shot.
This is when karma bites me on the butt. In exchange for bothering this poor woman and her tired family, an entire Brazilian tour group in orange t-shirts walks right by me as Im holding the camera up to my face. All ten thousand of them walk into the Dinosaur building.
I snap the picture, watch the mob of tourists cram themselves in the building like stuffing into a Thanksgiving turkey, then hand the camera back over to her. She mumbles a thanks, like she doesnt really mean it, and I follow the orange t-shirts through the doorway.
In line, I pull out my trusty notepad and hotel pen and angrily scribble in it.
Stupid lousy woman
like it was my job to take her freaking picture
why I ought to send her an angrily written letter or something
Then my cheap hotel pen sputters and dies right there in the middle of a sentence. Crap. I cant even finish my vent now.
I put away my notepad and toss the pen in the nearest trash receptacle. Now I cant even vent about the not being able to vent. Then I wait in line behind sea of orange.
Coming up: Part 2. Lone Ride Nazi Slays Entire Crowd Single-Handedly. Story at 11.