As we found out this trip, there are many differences in Disneys moderate resort and deluxe resort categories. And one of the first differences we noticed was the way the bus depots are set up.
At a moderate, there are several different bus depots strategically placed around the joint. You walk to the one closest to your building, cop a squat (if youre lucky) and wait for the busses to roll by. As soon as one appears, you then MUST strain your eyes as you try your hardest to read each buss destination and be the first to announce it to your family.
If its the one youre looking for, you have to announce the parks name excitedly and follow it with Thats us. Come on, lets go. Its mandatory. If its not the one youre looking for, you have announce the name of that park and then follow it with Dadgummit. Didnt they just have one come by here for (insert park name) not two seconds ago? and accompany it with an eye roll.
Also mandatory.
But at the deluxes, its a whole different ballgame. There is only one bus stop location for the entire resort. We were a little worried about this because we imagined it would be the same as at the moderates. We pictured PORs measly little North Depot transposed onto AKL property with all of humanity jockeying for position. And a seat.
In fact, the only thing that gave us pause in picking AKL was the transportation. Its pretty far away from the action. And we dont like long bus rides. And then there was that whole one bus stop thing. So we were admittedly a little apprehensive as we embarked on our first AKL bus voyage.
But the AKL bus depot is humongous. Ginormous. And three other non words that all mean the same thing. We even saw a guy there entertaining the crowd with the little Guess Which Cup Its Under game several times during the week. It was a full blown party. I dont know if theyre all like this because other Disney owned deluxes have either the monorail or the boat. But if not, maybe the people that designed AKL felt like they must compensate. For something. Anyway, it seriously goes on for days. The depot is divided into sections and each section is clearly marked with a different parks name. Meaning, if you want to go to Epicot, you keep walking until you see the cute little African themed sign that says Ep(i)cot. Then you cop a squat and the Epicot bus will come to you. No more straining your eyes to be the first one to identify the bus as soon as it rounds the corner.
Well, okay, yeah we still did that but thats just us. Cause thats how we like to have fun in our family.
You shouldnt be surprised. We played the Spot the Disney Sign game for a full hour on the way down.
What Im saying is you dont have to do it.
Not unless you want to.
So after we get our bellies full at the Mara, which shall henceforth be known as Tomorrow because that's what the girl dubbed it, we cut through the resort and head out the front doors. We hang a left and walk down the pathway to the bus depot thats bigger than Texas and look for the Typhoon Lagoon sign.
Were somewhat disappointed as we read the sign and are reminded that both waterparks share a bus with another destination. Doh! We knew that last year but had forgotten it on our non Disney time. Kinda like how the boy knew the Beverly was nasty last year but forgot all about it through the year as his mind was otherwise occupied with non Disney stuff like football and friends and school. In that order.
Yes, we were caught off guard, but we were already there. And it was our first day. We didnt want to have to go all the way back and get the van just to drive to Typhoon Lagoon.
Besides, how bad can it be, right?
We sit down and wait. It doesnt take too long for a bus to show up. Freaky Cyborg Scanner Guy calls it. Dangit.
TYPHOON LAGOON. Thats us. Come on, lets go.
We hop on and are pleasantly surprised to find the bus nearly empty.
Everyone that was waiting with us at the exclusive Typhoon Lagoon/Downtown Disney section ambles on, finds a seat, stretches out, exchanges smiles and pleasantries and then it happens.
The Terminator was the first to notice it (of course) and he turns to me, points up front and says Listen.
Someone is standing just in front of the steps leading up to the bus. Shes involved in a deep conversation with the driver. The exchange seems very dramatic. We both strain to hear the conversation because apparently were both equally nosy.
Lady: I need you to wait for the rest of our group. Can you do that?
Driver: How long you gonna take?
Lady: I dont know, theyre still in the room.
Driver: Still in de room?
Lady: Yes but theyre coming and I need you to stay here and not leave.
Driver: I give you five minute. (not a typo)
Lady: Well need longer than five minutes. Theyre not even downstairs yet. You have to wait because the next one wont be along for another half hour or so, right? Thats too long for us to wait.
Driver: Depend on de traffic and I give you five minute.
With that, he turned, looked straight forward, and zoned out. He may as well have added And thats final for emphasis. The way DH does. Undeterred, she kept explaining to him how important it was that he waited until they came. Because they paid more for their vacation than everyone else.
So we sat on the bus and waited. In the time it took for the rest of the family to make it, someone actually recognized Scat Cat over at Epicot and asked for his autograph.
In other words, it was a lot longer than five minutes.
But finally the son boarded. We knew he was a member of the Tardy family because he busted onto the bus in a full sprint, breathing hard with beads of sweat dropping off him. Although we werent too happy with the sweat droppage, we were at least pleased to see that he was in a rush. Because if we had to wait for them, we at least wanted to know they were in a rush.
The dad was another subject.
It took several more minutes for Cool Moe Dee to show up.
When he finally did, he sauntered onto the bus like a rock star without a care in the world. He had perfectly coifed hair and a complete lack of sweat. The guy was moving as slow as pond water. At one point, I swear he even did a little backwards jig. Let me just say that we have absolutely no problem waiting for someone on a bus every now and then. It definitely wasnt the first time we had waited for someone while we sat on a Disney bus and we never thought twice about it before. Stuff happens to all of us. But the fact that we had been waiting forever for this guy to show up and he couldnt even be bothered to at least power walk really got under our skin. When he finally crawled past us, DH looked at me and did the combination head shake and eye roll. A lady sitting across from us saw him and took that as her cue to lean forward and laugh really loud. Like scary loud. She then proceeded to dog the family out for the next few minutes.
Using her outside voice.
And thats how we met Atlanta and her crew. We eventually ended up talking to her a good bit. Because what else did we have to do in the forty five minutes it took for us to get to Typhoon Lagoon?
Thats right. It took darn near an hour to get to the waterpark.
The bus took forever to get to its first destination, Downtown Disney. Once there, we had to stop at the West Side, and the Marketplace, and then Pleasure Island, picking up and dropping off at each section.
It took less time for the Grand Canyon to form than it took for us to get to Typhoon Lagoon that day. At least it felt like it anyway.
But we finally did make it and we (re)learned a very valuable lesson.
To drive to Typhoon Lagoon next time.
It didnt take long for us to get happy after the longest bus ride in the history of Disneyworld finally and mercifully came to an end.
In fact, all it took was this
Oh yeah. Mama like.
We head straight to the gift shop and rent a locker for our gear. We always rent the big locker because we always need the big locker. Yet we still stand at the counter each year and act like we could actually get away with renting the little locker.
DH: What do you think, you think the big one? Or the little one?
Me: Do you think its too big for the little one?
DH: I dont know, La. Im thinking the big one.
Me: Okay, lets just go with the big one.
I dont know why we do that. Were not indecisive people. Maybe we do it to make ourselves feel better about being overpackers, who knows. I cant decide.
At any rate, we break down and rent the big one (big surprise) and then make our way through the sea of pasty white sweaty stranger flesh that is the epitome of a Disney water park. We finally locate our locker. We start getting bumped into and gawked at by strangers in Speedos as we get pool ready beside our locker so we throw our stuff in, slam the door really hard, and head off for some fun.
Our first stop is Crush n Gusher.
I absolutely love this ride and had really been looking forward to riding it.
But I knew this year I wouldnt be able to ride with DH and bust his eardrums in the process because it was just the four of us. We had no friends along with us for the ride this time. No babysitters. Our parents were not around. It was just us. Our little family. I was pretty happy about it because we usually end up going with at least one other family on our trips. And although it can be a ton of fun to have friends or relatives around to goof off with, sometimes you just need for it to be just your family. My family. Just us. Because although I believe friendship is a wonderful gift to be treasured and nurtured, I also believe family comes first. And that its important to carve out bonding time for just the four of us with no one else around from time to time.
I said all of that to say this. I knew I was going to have to ride Crush n Gusher by myself. I wasnt particularly crazy about the idea. Id much rather share the ride with my husband. But since we were on our own this year, there wasnt much we could do. It was either skip the ride altogether or ride alone. Unless the boy stepped up. Which I wasnt really counting on. Because hes not much of a thrill rider. He didnt want to ride it last year and I didnt think hed want to ride this year either.
We get up to Crush n Gusher and suddenly the boy decides he wants to ride. Were both pleasantly surprised. I let DH take him because I know my husband had been looking forward to having some fun with his boy this trip. He was psyched and ready for some one on one bonding time with his only son.
In his mind, he imagined the boy would run up to him and beg his father to take him on Rock n Roller Coaster. He imagined they would then sit side by side, laughing the whole way while the girls were in some far removed location patiently awaiting their return with bated breath and a refreshing drink and snack in hand. For them. Then he imagined the two of them would hit Tower of Terror and laugh the whole way and say things to each other like Girls stink and bond like only men can do.
The only problem with that little scenario is that the boy is eight. And would rather eat an entire plateful of Disney green beans than ride either the Tower of Terror or the Rock n Roller Coaster. Go ahead and mark Expedition Everest off the list too. Were sure of it. Well, Im sure of it anyway. At this point, DH was still holding out hope.
But back to Crush n Gusher.
I tell the boy to go with his dad and then he can go again with me when he comes down if he feels like it. He grins and they take off excitedly for the first of their male bonding episodes. I take the girl over to the pool to swim while we wait for the boys to splash down out of one of the three tubes on the other side of the rope.
It takes a really long time but they finally emerge in their little double tube. Now its my turn. And Ive been ready for this my whole life.
We make our way out of the pool and I immediately sense a problem with the boy. He didnt like it. Not one stinkin bit. He refuses to go again. We cant make him get on it again.
Apparently my husband forgot to tell him to hold his tail up on the way down.
Ouch.
Im not into causing a Splash Mountainesque meltdown again so I resign myself to the fact that Ill be flying solo.
I tag out with DH and take off to grab a tube. It was a double cause they dont even
make tubes for singles for Crush n Gusher. Hows that for funny? Disney just assumes everyone will have at least one or two other people to ride with and not be pathetic enough to have to ride by themselves. So they dont even bother to make a tube for a single.
Of course thats probably not the real reason but it felt that way as I made my way up past all of the loud, laughing, having a good time doubles and triples.
I picked the tallest one, I think it was the Banana Blaster. I throw my tube down and get sitchated. Before I push off, I ask the CM at the top if a single rider had ever flipped over on a double tube. Disproportionate weight distribution and all that. Her exact words were I havent had one flip yet. To which I responded Great. Just because you said that, it means Ill be your first.
And with that, I was gone like a shot. Im happy to announce I didnt flip. But I did have a flippin good time. Man, I love that ride. I got my Laugh Scream on the whole way down without anybody riding in front of me to give me any lip about it. Maybe this single rider thing wasnt too bad after all.
It was over way too fast and I secretly entertained the idea of sneaking past DH and trying to squeeze another ride in. But dang that conscience of mine, I just couldnt do it. So I grab the crew and we head off to the next adventure.
We hit Gangplank Falls, the family raft ride. We love this ride too but it always takes forever to get through the line. And then the ride down lasts a total of about ten seconds. Its awesome while it lasts but it just seems like a lot of work and waiting for such a short period of happiness.
From there, I spot Mayday Falls. Id never ridden it before. The boys rode it a couple of years ago while I waited on the sidelines. It looks like fun so I tell DH I want to ride it. I try to get the boy to ride with me but hes having nothing to do with it after the butt kickin he took on Crush n Gusher. DH tells me hell take the kids and to meet him at Ketchakiddee Creek when Im done.
He suddenly feels the urge to push some poor little kid out of the way and take over their water cannon.
I hop in line and before I know it, Im on my single tube careening through caves and getting doused with ice cold water from overhead. It was a lot of fun. Except for that wrist injury I suffered. I was holding onto the handles of the tube because I didnt want to fall out (duh) and the tube suddenly spun in one direction and then whipped back around in the opposite direction as I hit the side of the cave. I was holding on pretty tight so when the tube spun back in the opposite direction, my right wrist absorbed the shock. I have to say it hurt pretty bad. Not bad enough for me to report it apparently, just bad enough for me to complain about it for the next hour or so.
And then write about it here.
After the tube ride was over, I made my way over to the water cannons and was surprised to find DH was actually letting the kids man the things for a change. They were having a blast. I show my husband my wrist, tell him Ive got a bobo and tell him to kiss it.
Amazingly, it didnt make it feel any better. Maybe he wasnt holding his mouth right.
After the PDA, we head over to Castaway Creek. Now this is more the boys speed. He loves the lazy river.
Earlier that day as we were unpacking and settling into our room, the kids both scrambled up onto the top bunk and excitedly watched Stacy do her thang on the Top Seven Things To Do loop.
Over and over again.
They replay it over and over again. And I cant fake it, I cant take it, no.
Am I the only one thats wondered why they highlight just seven? Seriously. Why wouldnt they do a top ten? Did they not have enough time and money to invest in ten? Were the other three closed for refurbishment? Did Stacys stylist throw her hands up in the air and quit after seven? That might explain the braids. Or did the producers have all they could take of Stacy and insist their sanity would be in jeopardy if they were made to tape three more segments?
At any rate, as we walk up to Castaway Creek, the boy points and says Look at all the
lazy people in the
lazy river.
I spank him really hard and tell him he wont be gettin any supper later as punishment for putting a mental image of Stacy in those braids in my head.
Okay, I really am just kidding about that one. Of course I didnt spank him. But he did go hungry.
Or did he?
Anyway, we stand on the steps at one of the entry points and look for four tubes. In the time it took for us to find four tubes, Disney remastered and released one movie out of the vault.
It took that long.
We finally find some tubes, jump in, and float down the river like a bunch of lazy people.
Halfway around the loop, the girl scrambles into the tube with her dad. As we float around the meandering river, they lay there with their heads together, just relaxing and quietly talking to each other. At one point, the child even fell asleep on his shoulder. They were that relaxed.
Cut to the boy.
He walks down the middle of the river and then jumps up onto the side of his tube from underneath every now and then. But he never can quite get there on the first try. So he must then jump off, splash around in the water a lot, squeal really loudly, laugh, and try it all over again.
Simply put, he was having a blast.
After we wind around underneath the caves and get shot in the face by ice cold water for awhile, the boy decides its time for some Wave Pool action. Because its the only thing he likes better than the lazy river.
So we find an exit, hop out, and make our way over to the wave pool. The kids hit the water and its not long before theyre squealing with excitement as they splash around.
Me: Look how excited they are. Theyre so cute. You know theyve been waiting for this all day.
DH:
silence
I look over to my right and discover that where my husband once stood not two seconds before, there is now only air. I look back over my shoulder to find the man has cut out on me. Left me high and dry. Left me holding the bag.
Hes about thirty feet away already and is waving at me. He makes a hugely animated pointing gesture towards a lounge chair off to the side, then makes a stretching motion meant to indicate hes beat and hes gonna rest for a bit. In the lounge chair.
Whats up with that?
Well, okay. Whatever.
I turn to look back at the kids.
Because we live on the Coast and are around the water a lot, it has always been extremely important to my husband and I that our kids know how to swim. And know how to swim well. So they have both taken swimming lessons since they were three years old. During the summers, DH and I take turns moving our lunch hours around at work so we can have them at the pool. Its not easy but we do it because its important. As a result, they both can swim like little fish now. But even so, it always makes me a little nervous when Im the only parent in the water with the two of them. Because Im a worrier. And thats what I do. Thats another thing my Mom passed down to me. Im a worrier with just a touch of overprotectiveness thrown in for good measure.
Its because of this that I dont ever let them venture out further than their little toes can touch, even if they can swim well. When theyre with me, we go no further out than about three feet. Max.
Thats my rule.
They have their Nana to thank for it. In a roundabout way.
I walk over to them and immediately the girl wants me to hold my breath and dive underwater with her. So we hold hands, count one, two, three, and plunge down underwater together. We hear the sound of the water bubbles in our ears as we come eyeball to eyeball and make funny faces at each other and then shoot back up. That was so cool! Lets do it again! she squeals when we come up. We plunge back down and this time I snap a picture of her with my underwater camera. We come back up and she's all smiles. Even her little eyes are grinning underneath her pink goggles.
The boy is swimming around us and then suddenly plants his feet and tells his little sister to swim to him. It takes her two seconds to take off towards him. He catches her and tells her Good job! Now, swim back to Mom. She turns around, plunges headfirst into the water and takes off.
Were having such a nice, calm, time together. I was proud of my son. He was being so sweet with his younger sister. In fact, both of the kids are on their best behavior and being really sweet to each other. Its nothing but smooth sailing.
We play and laugh together for a few minutes longer and then suddenly the girl announces that shes a little baby duckling.
And that Im the Mama duck. And that the little baby duckling is swimming to the Mama Duck but the little baby ducking cant swim and the Mama Duck has to save the little baby duckling.
Shes five. She likes to pretend to be little baby animals from time to time. So sue her. We know a good lawyer.
The child splashes around in the water and proceeds to make the loudest quacking noises Ive ever heard in my life. Shes so into it. Shes feeling the little baby ducklings pain. She is one with the little baby duckling.
People start to stare.
Because the quacking is starting to get out of hand.
I tell the little baby duckling to quack a little more quietly. I catch her and she quiets down for a minute. Then all of a sudden the little baby ducking is in trouble again. Although Mama Duck is still firmly holding her, somehow, the little baby duckling is in some serious trouble. The quacking is working its way up to an insane level again when she decides to go for broke and begins the flailing of the arms and the drowning victim facial expressions.
And yes, she would like to go ahead and thank the Academy now.
Ive got water splashing in my eyes, eardrums that are about to bust from all the quack quack quacking going on and then from out of nowhere, the boy pounces on me and tackles me. He was off to the right watching the commotion and no doubt waiting for the perfect time to strike. This eight year old boy thats nearly as big as I am literally flies from out of nowhere and bodyslams me. Hard. We both go flying underneath the water and I swear I can still hear the quacking underwater.
We come up and hes laughing hysterically. But I wasnt.
I let him have it and thats when I notice it.
I never like to be in more than about two feet of water with the kids when the wave comes. Tops. And Im talking about the big wave. It starts out at six feet and then gradually gets smaller the closer it gets to the shore. When were standing somewhere around the two foot mark, its usually just the perfect height when it comes in. I put the girl on my hip and the boy has a blast attempting to jump over it. Its always enough to give us a thrill but still, its not enough to send us barreling underwater.
But as I recover from the tackle, I notice weve drifted a little further out than I want us to be when the wave comes. I realize there hasnt been a wave unleashed yet the entire time weve been out there so I tell the boy to head back closer to the shore and I sling the girl up on my hip. Just in case.
We start walking and wouldnt you know it, thats when we hear it.
The unmistakable sound of a six foot wall of water being produced.
Oh crap.
Up Next: A Rude and then Ruder Awakening