We exited the Forbidden Journey attraction into our first gift shop of the day, Filch's Emporium of Confiscated Goods. Fabulous title for a shop if I do say so myself. Compared to the Hogmseade proper shops we'd be visiting that day, this was practically the size of a Sam's Club. Despite this, you couldn't move. It was crowded. No, not crowded. Gelatinous. Like we were trapped in some jell-o mould. I remind you, this store was huge in comparison to the others. Fellow park guests were just about the most courteous I've ever encountered. A whole deal better than those at Disney. Maybe it was because you simply couldn't bring that much ephemera with you into this land. There just wasn't room. An operational nightmare due to J.K. Rowling's vision that it reflect the scale and size of her creation, but counter to any theme park experience you'll ever have. It makes
Disneyland feel like Epcot in comparison.
Maybe it was opening week excitement and good tidings throughout, but everyone was just so darned nice; cast members (what are they called here?) and guests alike. Fellow guests kind of giggled when we knew there was no place to go as we brushed up against one another, more intimately I might add than Blanche Devereaux did with George on her wedding night. I reiterate. This was the largest store in the Wizarding World.
Crowd control aside, the space didn't seem all that out of the ordinary as far as gift shops are concerned. A lot of sweet merchandise. But we planned on coming back later, as we didn't want to be dragging a lot of swag behind us out in the 110 in the shade weather. So, at this point, we just elbowed our way to the exit.
Walking towards Hogsmeade Village, we took a look at the line for Ollivander's. The SO and I went against our better judgement and decided against the line.
But, I thought we could at least pick up a Butterbeer. Suffice it to say, I was the most excited about that particular element of the Wizarding World. I'd read about it for a decade, and now I had a chance to try it. The line for the Butterbeer cart in the middle of the street looked endless, not to mention unshielded from the sun. Those snow-covered rooftops do a smash-up job of reflecting sunlight onto weary visitors.
"Come with me, I know a shortcut!"
Smiling deviantly, I led the SO up to the Hog's Head and told him I had read about a shortcut on the DIS.
The nice lady at the door told us to enter through the rear of the pub, as they were using the front entrance as an exit. No problem. We walk to the right, past a few storefronts (faux stores, but the detail... every window animated, the designs were fluttering with authenticity, just... sigh), and couldn't find any sign of another entrance. I believe we passed the restrooms (labeled "Public Conveniences"!), and finally I saw an unlabeled corridor that opened up to a terrace facing the lake. We got in line, and I assured the SO that we'd be inside in no time.
20 minutes later, he looked at me, impatient and understandably jittery.
"Okay, so the shortcut isn't much of a shortcut, but there's shade!"
He was snapping as many photos as he could where we were standing. So I told him to go take pictures to his heart's content and I would meet him on the other side with the drinks. "But won't you get out before I'm finished?" I laughed. Please, we'd moved up about 5 places in line at that point. But by now, I was getting used to the whole Wizarding World slow-snaking claustrophobia. Opening weekend or not, it was a little ridiculous. But, somehow, not at all offensive. A lot of that is due to it's newness. For me, I've been coming to Orlando ever since I can remember, and it's not that often that you're struck by something out of the ordinary. You get used to the same old same old.
I was so blissfully involved in this static lullaby of people and queues and 100 degree weather, it's like I'd been shell-shocked. In a good way. It's difficult to explain. But it has a lot to do with the lack of logos.
How can I explain? Disney's Magic Your Way No Expiration across from Disney's Furry Friends Kennel not far from the Coca-Cola-Frontierland Dasani Outpost, next to the Dannon and Friends Disney Dining Plan Voucher Stand... you get the idea. It's all initially based on Walt's original cost-saving measure of having American companies sponsor various attractions and eateries back at Disneyland. Understandable and apropos in a World's Fair kind of way.
Except it didn't used to feel so oppressive. In recent years, it has become intrusive, you know? And all of the trademarked Fastpass signs and kiosks and Snack Credits and DVC Best Kept Disney Secret this and DVC that... it can take you out of the magic. I know it takes me out of the magic. None of that existed here in the Wizarding World. Beyond the boundaries of this land, but not here. There were pins for sale, but no lanyards at EVERY shop. No Vinylmation indistinguishing one cash register from another. And that, ladies and gentleman, reminded me of the Disney I remember as a kid. Or heck, the Disney I remember from 10 years ago. A theme park where the environment made you forget the outside world. And isn't that the point?
No one was trying to sell me anything but chocolate frogs, seeker t-shirts, magic wands, butterbeer and all points in-between. There was no branding going on at all beyond that which I had read about, or seen in the Harry Potter books and films. The branding I wanted to see. It's almost a groundbreaking concept to have something as simple as a Harry Potter souvenir come wrapped in a box that says it's a Harry Potter souvenir. The last time I bought a Spaceship Earth keychain that said it came from Epcot was what, 1995? There's this "Disney Parks" uniformity over the past two years that has destroyed a very big part of the Walt Disney World experience. THAT is why Wizarding World just works. And that is why I was blissfully happy to wait in a human-gerbil experiment in 100 degree weather. I was being sold, essentially, all I hoped to be sold. I hope Mickey can take some of these ideas, and put them in his Disney Park's Save-The-Planet tote bag available in Tokyo Paris Los Angeles Hong Kong and Orlando.
Don't think of it as a rant. Think of it as my persuading you to check this place out.
Anyway, the SO agreed to take his cameras and meet me afterward in front of the Hogshead. Things were pretty quiet. That is, until the poor couple in front of me was accosted by an overexcited young man. They should have been awarded the Purple Heart for their service to our country after bearing the burden of this abrasive person ahead of them in line. Against their will, he was telling them how everything worked, what all the shops meant, had they read Harry Potter, did they know all the names of the houses, etc. Then, he turned to me and asked me if I'd been to Ollivanders. Oh why why why did I make eye contact. I noticed the lady smirk a little, and as soon as we had finally made it into the bar and the untethered dude had darted for the next available counter, I said, "I saw you laughing, what's so funny?"
"It was nice to get a break!"
We started chatting and wondered why we still had a bit of a wait, and yet the Wizarding Nerd had already darted up and refilled his butterbeer. I guess he'd been through before - well.. obviously - and got a refill discount.
Understand that this was a 45 minute wait. For a drink, people. I walked up to the bar, behind which there was a great "hog's head" that grunted and moved every so often. Brilliant.
Being inside, oh there are no words. So wondrous. I ordered two butterbeers and gave the bartender a $3 tip. He reached over to tap my hand and thanked me. That's gotta be hard work... I wouldn't wish being a food service person in that area for all the tea in China. I'm sure it's worse than handing out cookies and cocoa during Mickey's Not So Scary Christmas Party.
It tasted like lightly sweetened cream soda with a head of frothy whipped cream and butterscotch. And I adored it. I handed the SO his stein and we went to get in line for Dervish and Banges.
We'd decided to forego Ollivander's, because we were more interested in checking out all of the shops before it got anymore crowded. We met a father in line with his daughters and talked a bit about the awesome sights and abysmal lines. I noticed that the SO was taking the strangest sips of his Butterbeer. 15 minutes later, I noticed that I was halfway through to the bottom, while he had barely scratched the surface.
"You hate it, don't you?"
"I feel guilty to hate it."
"Jo Rowling won't hate you for hating her work."
Why should he like it? He's not a dessert person. So, he handed me his stein and... by the time we made it into our first Hogsmeade shop, I had downed two butterbeers. I absolutely loved it. And I loved the steins in which they're served. In we went.
Once inside, I felt again like someone had squeezed JFK International into a radish. But I became lost in the Remembralls, brooms hanging from the ceiling, parchment and dust and character everywhere... And then we headed back to the wand section.
If you've ever been in an old music shop, preferably one selling manuscript paper, you'll have an idea of what this part of the shop was like. Piled up high on the shelves wasn't your ordinary theme park gift shop. No, it WAS a wand shop. This place had been around for thousands of years. Prior to walking in, I knew I'd be accompanying the SO in his purchase of an Ollivander's wand. I had no idea that I'd be springing for my own. Which I did. The girl who assisted us had the constitution of a viking and the grace of chamomile tea. Hordes of people crushing from every side, and her undivided attention to whomever she was engaging in the serious business at hand. She asked me for my birthday, which I gave, and told me I probably wouldn't like the wand very much. She was right, but I did like the second wand. Still, I wasn't sure I really wanted to spend $30, so I handed it to the SO who similarly dug it.
The wand I did purchase led to a curious phenomenon. When I came back to work - and I work in a fairly conservative office - everyone was enamored of the box, the way it was packaged, and the wand itself. I had brought it in to show a few select people, but soon I was surrounded with senior executives smiling and asking me questions all about it. Unreal, right?
I ended up buying the second wand after all. The SO looked at another wand I selected and thought it was far groovier. So, off we went to our next whimsical and bumper-to-bumper destination.
His books took me on more adventures years ago than i'll ever have in my lifetime. 
I'm the same way. I think I must have scheduled a Universal day every trip since 2000, but always managed to stay at Disney. Only last year did I finally consent to it, and felt as "eh" about it as I'd expected. But you'll just have to wait and see what I thought this time around.
