We woke up early on Tuesday in order to make it to the Magic Kingdom in time for breakfast at the Crystal Palace. My brother claimed sick and bowed out. My father claimed, well, whatever it is that my father claims, and he too bowed out. So it was just my girlfriend and my mother and I once again.
When we arrived at the Magic Kingdom, Jen and I were given insight into what the “Rope-Drop” crowds are like, and they certainly were far lighter than what we had seen on Sunday night before the Christmas Party. I was actually hoping to see a mad rush of lunatics towards their favorite attractions, but to this end I was to be disappointed…. as we were dining during the hour-mark that officially opened the park, all we saw were docile, respectable guests walking patiently into Adventureland. Alas, the shortfalls of normality…..
Before that, however, we enjoyed a wonderful 15 minutes of so on a virtually deserted Main Street, having been allowed into the park before the opening because of our reservation (much to the disgruntlement of some guests who didn’t understand the situation). Well, I should clarify….. the members of Team Manic enjoyed themselves, while the lone member of Team Fun quickly became anxious about traversing the remaining 100 yards in time to make breakfast. In any case, Main Street looked beautiful with all the wreaths hung over the thoroughfare, and the setting made for some wonderful photographic opportunities. Unfortunately, Jen and I were both exhausted and from the looks of the pictures only about half-awake, so our moment in front of the castle and Jen’s with Roy and Minnie on the bench aren’t captured as poetically as we would have liked. Still, I like them, if only because of the simple fact that they represent the beginning of an amazing day.
Some photographs from the morning.....
Breakfast did not disappoint. In fairness, it was still a buffet breakfast and as such not in the category of remarkable in any way, but the food was competent…. the sausage plump and juicy, the omelets well prepared, and the fruit selection reasonable and fresh. I had no difficulty getting my fill, and both Jen and I grabbed a banana to serve as a mid-day snack. But really, the attraction of the Crystal Palace is the Crystal Palace itself, along with the fun associated with a character breakfast. The interior of the restaurant is gorgeous, with plenty of natural light, Victorian latticing, windows and other beautifully ornate details everywhere, and, of course, a centrally located topiary to instantly remind you that this is the domain of Pooh and his friends!
Alas, no Christopher Robin. Always on the lookout for namesakes, particularly ones at the center of a favorite childhood book…..
But the best part of the morning was that my mother and my girlfriend were extremely excited about meeting the characters. Piglet came by our table almost immediately, and Pooh graced our presence as well. But the main attractions were Tigger and Eeyore. Tigger is my mother’s favorite character in all the universe….. Tigger shirts, stuffed Tigger toys, Tigger jacket, Tigger pretty-much-everything-you-can-think-of. So his appearance was a big deal. It was probably her happiest moment on the trip, and it made me happy to see her excited. I took a picture of Jen and her and Tigger, and after we returned to New York, Jen framed it and sent it to her as a gift. It now proudly sits in front of my mother’s computer, something that should work as a symbol to my girlfriend that my mother in fact does like her, even after she casually swore in front of her over the holidays.
When Eeyore came by, I told him that he was Jen’s favorite, and he played it up, hugging her with both arms. That he did so is something that Jen still talks about with a giant smile. It was a great moment and I’m glad that she was able to have it.
After breakfast was over, my mother once more decided to head back to the hotel, something that I’m sure you by now realize we couldn’t contemplate. So as my mother walked back down Main Street, Jen and I went the other way, into Adventureland and onto the Jungle Cruise.
It was, well, disappointing despite my minimal expectations for it. It seemed a little ridiculous to be guided through animatronic animals whose real-life versions were in the Animal Kingdom, and despite my willingness to buy into the schtick of our guide, she really didn’t do a good job at all of selling her jokes or, really, of even appearing slightly enthusiastic. In all honesty, we probably had more fun in the queue. Perhaps others have different experiences on this ride, but for me, it sadly seemed that classic as it might be, the Jungle Cruise might have run its course.
Fortunately, the rest of the day was going to be far better.
We headed towards the most predictable of locations: Frontierland. Once there, we grabbed FastPasses to Big Thunder Mountain to avoid a listed 30 minute wait for that ride, and jumped onto Splash Mountain once again, noting the score in the tie between Team Manic and Team Fun. I don’t think it’s any wonder, by the way, why the “How do ya do?” song from that ride keeps popping into my head even now! Well it was great again, of course, and as I’m running out of superlatives for it, I’ll leave it at that.
After Splash Mountain, we had planned to do something to bridge the gap until our FastPasses became valid. But when we left the ride, we noticed that the cast members had dropped the standby wait time to 10 minutes on Big Thunder Mountain, and so we decided to just get on it at that time. This actually began a movement on our part to acquire FastPass tickets to the mountains as souvenirs. I don’t recommend this during busy days, because the way I see it, it is clearly unfair to other guests (if not downright unethical) to consume FastPasses and push back the return times just to grab a souvenir, but in this case it was essentially a non-issue. In fact, the Splash Mountain FastPass machine was dispensing tickets for times only minutes in advance of the actual times, and when we grabbed ours the plaza that they were in was essentially abandoned. And so it was really a nice opportunity for great souvenirs…. they have the date and the time on them, and I think that’s really a great touch for a keepsake.
Obviously Big Thunder Mountain was great once again, though as we were very near the very front of the cars, we hung suspended over the drops. Next time, the end car beckons…..
After we exited the ride, we walked more or less idly around the park for a bit. We stopped into some of the stores in Frontierland and Liberty Square, just enjoying an un-crowded day in the Magic Kingdom.
Eventually we found our way to Fantasyland, and as Jen wanted to see what all the fuss was about, we grabbed FastPasses to Peter Pan’s Flight, which seemed to be the only ride that day where people were lined up around the corner. For the interim, I suggested a second trip to the Haunted Mansion, which wasn’t as memorable for the mere fact that when you enter the mansion during the day, it’s impossible to suspend disbelief when your doom-buggy “exits” the mansion into the exterior graveyard, which is decidedly less light than the middle of a day in the Sunshine State. Still, we enjoyed it, particularly when the ghost that hitched a ride with us at the end of the attraction turned out to be the same ghost that joined us on our first night!
On to Peter Pan. And it was…. well…. it was cute, and a classic, and worth one—and I stress the singularity of the word one here—stop-in as a compliment to our long overdue trip to Disney World. The hanging ride vehicles are neat if you can recall a time when they were a novelty, and the essential idea of Peter Pan can be invigorating because an over-extended youth seems possible when you’re in a place like Disney—indeed, it is in so many ways the precise goal of a trip there. But if honesty is demanded, the ride needs an overhaul. It is clunky and noisier than it should be, and the models are often simply not convincing. If I’m being completely forthright, the highlight of that attraction was found in the arguments of a visitor who was trying to convince the attending cast members that he had been cleared by some anonymous park superior to take his service dog on the ride with him. As a similar scene can not be assured on any given trip to the attraction, I don’t really see the appeal of and thus can not recommend waiting in a long line for Peter Pan’s Flight.
Neither can I recommend Snow White’s Scary Adventures. And Jen will be honest about this one: she dragged me onto it. I didn’t mind so much, of course…. it’s a short ride, and a classic, and harmless, and if Jen wanted to go on it I wasn’t going to do any vetoing. But it is an entirely forgettable ride, one that might be fun for children (as long as they know the story, something I’m not sure all children today do) but that in no way transcends generations. Well, we’ve gone on it, and Jen won’t ask me again next time. A worthy result in itself, I suppose.
The next stop, on the other hand, was simply wonderful. I have to say that Mickey’s Philharmagic is a superbly entertaining show, and worth at least one visit every trip. I am, as I have stated before, a huge Donald Duck fan, and in this show he is in fine form, creating havoc and working out some instances of great comic value. Donald in Mickey’s sorcerer’s hat? That’s a can’t miss. And I think the physical touches are great additions, not so much because they initiate a visceral experience (as, say, It’s Tough to be a Bug would), but rather simply because they add to the absurd fun of it all. But I have to say that the real brilliance of the show is that it can be so much fun for people who like different things. Save for Fantasia and in some respects Peter Pan (it’s a beloved part of my childhood), I’m not a huge fan of the Disney films shown in the attraction, something that clearly would be a big draw for some. But no worries, here comes Donald Duck to make a farce out of all of them! Only Donald would have the misfortune of being shunned by a half-naked redhead and then romantically pursued by a lipstick-wearing electric eel, no one is better suited to go on an out-of-control magic carpet ride, and in general, he is the character most likely to do something stupid like play around with something that he can’t control. In all, both Jen and I loved the show, and hope that it runs for a long time so that we can go again.
Once Philharmagic was over, we headed past the hordes surrounding the sexed-up Ariel in her grotto, spotted Scrooge MacDuck near the Speedway (Jen had to tell me who it was, actually), and walked over to Tomorrowland. I wanted to ride Space Mountain once more, but Jen was not all that interested in doing so at that time. She doesn’t always do that well with centrifuge effects, and I think that the memory of it from the night before was a bit too fresh in her head. So I convinced her that grabbing FastPasses was a good idea, since we could keep them as part of our souvenir collection if we didn’t use them, or redeem them for a quick ride if she changed her mind. In the meantime, we hopped onto the PeopleMover once again, this time for a daylight trip above Tomorrowland, including another spectacular angle on the castle and a fun pass directly over the head of Stitch.
Still, it did nothing to change my girlfriend’s mind concerning Space Mountain. So instead, we headed up Main Street to hitch a ride on the railroad (I wasn’t familiar with the way to the Toontown station).
I had actually been looking forward to a relaxing ride on the railroad since we learned of the opportunity to visit Disney World. I can’t remember ever having ridden it when I was younger (though it’s entirely possible that I did—I have an awful memory as far as my childhood is concerned), and I think that in many ways it is a quintessential experience to circumnavigate the Magic Kingdom on one of Walt Disney’s beloved trains, which are very much like enlarged versions of the kiddie-trains found in so many small amusement parks and traveling fairs. When you’re in a place where you yourself become something an enlarged version of a child, there are few things more appropriate than to ride a train. I’m inclined to say that if you can’t enjoy doing that, you’re missing something intrinsic to the meaning of Disney World.
Jen and I thought it was great. I was struck immediately by a disabled cast member in full conductor regalia, loving every moment of what must be his dream job. And on the ride itself, everyone we passed stopped to wave at us, including a group of workers (who must have completed a lot less work that day than they might otherwise have if not contributing to the overall effect of the attraction. The props were delightfully corny, but what I really loved were the views of some of the attractions, including a glance inside the steamboat room of Splash Mountain, a look at Big Thunder Mountain, and a close pass by the side of Space Mountain and Tomorrowland. As well, as we circled back towards the main station, we spotted a monorail approaching the Magic Kingdom from the Contemporary, ultimately passing as close to us as is possible. It was wonderful.
I also need to mention that we became aware of a possible reason why other visitors were to claim that it was crowded in the Magic Kingdom that day when to us all empirical evidence suggested the contrary. At the Toontown station, it was abundantly clear that that section of the park was jam-packed. We were stunned by the crowds at that time, in fact, and it now seems to make sense to us. With school back in session (including Skidmore—fortunately my next scheduled class was for that Friday) and most people back to work, the majority of those remaining in Disney were families with very young children. Thus, there were short lines for most “adult” rides, while the sections of the resort geared towards young children were still quite crowded. At least that’s the way we see it now…..
When we exited the train, Jen wanted to take a closer look at the castle, which we had not yet been through, so we headed up Main Street. We had to take the left flanking route because some cast members were setting up for an event or show of some kind. After taking a look inside and around the perimeter, we wandered towards Liberty Square, where we bought some popcorn and more or less turned around. We took the other flanking path back past the castle, where we ran into one of the designated smoking areas. It was surprising, actually, as I had not even thought about the fact that there were very few people smoking on the property (we had seen a few here and there, apparently in violation of the rules). Here in New York there’s a smoking ban in public places, so it’s not unusual for smokers to be few and far between, so I hadn’t thought anything of it in Disney World until choosing to walk through the area where they all congregate. I don’t disagree with the smoking policy, but I felt bad for them, really, they seemed almost herded.
Also on that walkway was another large group of ducks, whom we fed some of our popcorn to. The ducks are so used to humans in Disney World that they came right up to us, and even ate the kernels straight out of our hands. Man and Nature alike love the Magic Kingdom, I guess (except the smoker’s area, that is!).
(Also excepting the Speedway. That place seems so environmentally unfriendly…. The fumes are enough to knock you out!)
Magical Ducks.....
After feeding the ducks, we headed to Main Street in search of a specific style of mug that she had seen in the window of the candy store. Of course that store didn’t have them, so we went on a hard-target search of a place that might, finally locating them in a section of the Emporium. Jen purchased it along with a Mickey sweatshirt for her mother, and I saw a great “Experience the Monorail” t-shirt that was not in my size. The clerk at the store, however, really struggled with everything that she could possibly struggle with, mis-calculating the cost of Jen’s purchase, messing up the form to send it back to the Beach Club, and in general taking an absurdly long time with all of it. I actually found it to be quite amusing, but it did leave us momentarily stranded in the store while a particularly bad high school band initiated the afternoon parade. Luckily, however, we were able to take advantage of a break in the procession, and we made it out of the front gates, with the intention of visiting the Wilderness Lodge before we needed to head back to the Boardwalk for dinner.
And the Lodge did not disappoint. The boat ride from the Magic Kingdom is wonderful, to begin with, and I can see the appeal of taking it every night. The grounds are beautiful…. with the trees lining the walks and serving as a backdrop to the towering hotel itself, it really feels like the boat has taken you out of Florida. And the pool is smaller than I remembered it, but beautifully designed.
Of course, the main attraction of the Wilderness Lodge is the magnificent lobby, which really is quite impressive. I love the fireplace and the detailing of the woodwork, and the lighting of the place is perfect to the design. It is a destination in itself, a place where a couple in need of a bit of relaxation can simply park themselves and melt into an isolated section of an overwhelming scene.
It might have been nice to spend a little more time there, but I wanted to make sure that we left enough time to show Jen the rest of the Polynesian and still make it back for dinner comfortably. So we grabbed a boat back to the Magic Kingdom, then a monorail to the Polynesian, where we took our time strolling about the grounds (in particular the pool, which was once the envy of all those who stayed in other resorts), which I still find charming and unique, even if I erroneously recalled that some of the rooms were in cottages—something that is part of a hotel in Hawai’i, not one in Orlando.
Eventually we walked over to the Ticket and Transportation Center and caught one final monorail back to EPCOT. It was a bittersweet moment for me, since I knew that it was going to be the last such ride of the trip. As if the monorail itself did not want it to end, we stalled over Future World, where we sat for a few minutes in postponement of the inevitable.
I have to make a note here. From the Polynesian to the Beach Club by this route took us comfortably under half an hour even with the monorail delay, and we did not tear through EPCOT at anything approaching a breakneck speed. It is highly inconvenient, and far less pleasant than any bus ride…..
Okay okay, that’s punching it in for the superfluous touchdown when the rout is already on. This is in no way reflective of the general sportsmanship of Team Manic.
Upon our return, we took a swim in Stormalong Bay. It was necessarily brief because on the horizon were the ominous signs of the first storm of our trip (we were extraordinarily lucky as regards the weather). I was stunned at the calm exhibited by the lifeguards, who actually changed shifts on the very metallic and very tall slide ladder even as there were rumbles of thunder. They must be so aware of the precise timing of storms…. or they could just be particularly reckless, I don’t know.
Jen and I sort of wanted some moments to ourselves before dinner, but as my brother was in the room, we instead took showers and began to dress for dinner. The gods conspire towards romance, however! Jen tried to put on a dress with a problematic zipper even though I had had trouble manipulating the zipper on it once before (for my birthday dinner the previous summer), and guess what….. we had trouble once more! But in this I saw an opportunity. I sent my brother ahead with instructions that we would meet everyone at the restaurant once we resolved the zipper issue, and Jen and I stole some moments for ourselves.
I know, we sort of had to resort to teenage moments of diving into bushes and the like, but, well, it was better if my family did not think of us as a couple in love during this trip. Besides, it would have just been listed as one more something that Team Manic just had to be doing all the time……
Once dressed (Jen in a new dress), we headed over to the Flying Fish in a driving rainstorm beneath my New York pushbutton umbrella—woefully inadequate to protect two adults from a Floridian downpour. And when the Boardwalk gets wet, it gets remarkably slippery…. Jen had trouble keeping her balance, and relied on me to catch her a couple times despite the fact that my footing wasn’t exactly solid itself. Still, we managed to make it without becoming completely drenched and/or permanently injured.
As we waited in the thoroughly inadequate waiting area of Flying Fish, we were forced to deal with dozens of pushy people shoving their way through the adjoining candy store as the final leg of their shop-to-shop internal rain-avoiding tours of the Boardwalk. They really need to lock those doors. Flying Fish is supposed to be a signature dining experience, and it is a function of a really poor design that people dressed nicely and waiting for dinner are put in a situation where they’re either standing shoulder-to-shoulder with damp people waiting for the rain to stop or else being shoved out of the way by other damp people trying to make their way down the Boardwalk without enduring the storm.
The space in the restaurant could also use some adjustment. The space could be nice because the décor is beautiful and the open kitchen is very modern, but I thought they tried to pack too many people in. Our party of 5 people was seated at a table for 4. I had to sit on the edge, with one of the convenience stations over my left shoulder. I was crowded (fortunately I didn't want wine that night, otherwise I don't know how we'd have managed), and it was really invasive to have servers clanking water pitchers next to my ear around all night. Again, for a signature restaurant to treat its patrons in such a way is unacceptable.
That said, our server actually was fairly good, and the service itself generally well spaced and efficient apart from one instance where my water glass went unfilled for a notable period of time (prompting me to quip about the difficulties of transporting water across so vast an area without having the ice melt). And most importantly, the food was fantastic…. indeed, that I want to go back despite the issues with the restaurant is a testament to its quality. As an appetizer, my fried calamari was amazing. Fried calamari is one of those dishes that every tavern in the country thinks they can make, but which few can. It needs to be cooked through so it isn’t too chewy but not so much to make it stringy, the breading needs to be light and expertly seasoned, and the accompanying sauce needs to be delicate yet complex to complement the flavor of the squid. The offering at Flying Fish was all of these things, to my delight. Indeed, it was the second best plate of it I’ve ever had (the best, in case anyone cares, was at Hutch’s, a Buffalo institution near Lafayette Circle).
It should be obvious that I love fried calamari enough for that to have been a self-evident choice (and by the way, my girlfriend assured me that her crab cakes were also quite tasty), but I stared at the menu for a long time before deciding on the Potato Wrapped Red Snapper. And though Jen’s scallops were large and tender and the accompanying squash risotto was expertly done, I did not have order envy this time, as the snapper was light and flavorful and the pairings with the potato wrap, the leaks and the wine sauce was perfect. It was one of the finest dishes of the entire stay. So good, in fact, that I can’t remember if I even had dessert that night, and if so, what exactly I chose.
One other memorable event occurred during the meal. My father, grumbling and complaining once more (and by this time he probably had some reason to actually do so, as we’d find out the next day), was delightful as always, complaining about the word “café” in some bizarre affiliation of the word with the negative qualities of a cheap eatery whose casual nature extends into a sloppiness that invites the wrong type of crowd (no kidding…. welcome to Team Fun). He’d been there before, by the way, to far different reviews. In any case, all of this changed when a young boy slid over from his table and began talking with him at length about airplanes and flying and airports and the like…. suddenly the food got better, the atmosphere was now acceptable, etc. I have to laugh about it all…. I’m glad my father had a good time (finally), and it was cute—if somewhat bizarre, considering his general feeling about children—to see him chatting it up with a seven-year-old. Oh, and not to mention it was a relief to all those who had been suffering through his moods for days by this point!
By the time we completed dinner, the rain had ceased. My mother and my brother became interested in a magician performing a show on the Boardwalk, but after a few minutes and several mistakes on the part of the magician we decided to start walking back towards the Beach Club. It was near the time scheduled for Illuminations, and I wanted us to be able to watch the show. I suggested that we re-enter EPCOT to watch it, but Jen didn’t feel inclined to hustle in order to go through security and navigate the crowds in time for the beginning. I should have told her that it was more than just a fireworks display; instead, I took her reluctance to mean that she really had no interest in walking much more—only later would I find out that she would have gladly gone in if she had known about the nature of the show. Oh well, there are worse tragedies. And really, it was quite pleasant to stand on the bridge over the canal that runs into EPCOT and watch the fireworks. I can think of worse ways to finish up an evening.
Well, not quite finish up one, as it is. In lieu of an opportunity to visit the old Contemporary arcade, Jen suggested that we spend a few minutes in the one at the Beach Club. It was fun enough….. I managed a fairly decent run on Ms. Pac Man and discovered that Jen really is horrible at Air Hockey (even though I hadn’t played in years and took it easy on her, I think the final score was still somewhere around 7-0). But in truth, both of us were moving quickly towards complete exhaustion as a result of the long day, so we retired to our room to rest up for our final full day in Disney World.
When we arrived at the Magic Kingdom, Jen and I were given insight into what the “Rope-Drop” crowds are like, and they certainly were far lighter than what we had seen on Sunday night before the Christmas Party. I was actually hoping to see a mad rush of lunatics towards their favorite attractions, but to this end I was to be disappointed…. as we were dining during the hour-mark that officially opened the park, all we saw were docile, respectable guests walking patiently into Adventureland. Alas, the shortfalls of normality…..

Before that, however, we enjoyed a wonderful 15 minutes of so on a virtually deserted Main Street, having been allowed into the park before the opening because of our reservation (much to the disgruntlement of some guests who didn’t understand the situation). Well, I should clarify….. the members of Team Manic enjoyed themselves, while the lone member of Team Fun quickly became anxious about traversing the remaining 100 yards in time to make breakfast. In any case, Main Street looked beautiful with all the wreaths hung over the thoroughfare, and the setting made for some wonderful photographic opportunities. Unfortunately, Jen and I were both exhausted and from the looks of the pictures only about half-awake, so our moment in front of the castle and Jen’s with Roy and Minnie on the bench aren’t captured as poetically as we would have liked. Still, I like them, if only because of the simple fact that they represent the beginning of an amazing day.

Some photographs from the morning.....




Breakfast did not disappoint. In fairness, it was still a buffet breakfast and as such not in the category of remarkable in any way, but the food was competent…. the sausage plump and juicy, the omelets well prepared, and the fruit selection reasonable and fresh. I had no difficulty getting my fill, and both Jen and I grabbed a banana to serve as a mid-day snack. But really, the attraction of the Crystal Palace is the Crystal Palace itself, along with the fun associated with a character breakfast. The interior of the restaurant is gorgeous, with plenty of natural light, Victorian latticing, windows and other beautifully ornate details everywhere, and, of course, a centrally located topiary to instantly remind you that this is the domain of Pooh and his friends!
Alas, no Christopher Robin. Always on the lookout for namesakes, particularly ones at the center of a favorite childhood book…..
But the best part of the morning was that my mother and my girlfriend were extremely excited about meeting the characters. Piglet came by our table almost immediately, and Pooh graced our presence as well. But the main attractions were Tigger and Eeyore. Tigger is my mother’s favorite character in all the universe….. Tigger shirts, stuffed Tigger toys, Tigger jacket, Tigger pretty-much-everything-you-can-think-of. So his appearance was a big deal. It was probably her happiest moment on the trip, and it made me happy to see her excited. I took a picture of Jen and her and Tigger, and after we returned to New York, Jen framed it and sent it to her as a gift. It now proudly sits in front of my mother’s computer, something that should work as a symbol to my girlfriend that my mother in fact does like her, even after she casually swore in front of her over the holidays.

When Eeyore came by, I told him that he was Jen’s favorite, and he played it up, hugging her with both arms. That he did so is something that Jen still talks about with a giant smile. It was a great moment and I’m glad that she was able to have it.
After breakfast was over, my mother once more decided to head back to the hotel, something that I’m sure you by now realize we couldn’t contemplate. So as my mother walked back down Main Street, Jen and I went the other way, into Adventureland and onto the Jungle Cruise.
It was, well, disappointing despite my minimal expectations for it. It seemed a little ridiculous to be guided through animatronic animals whose real-life versions were in the Animal Kingdom, and despite my willingness to buy into the schtick of our guide, she really didn’t do a good job at all of selling her jokes or, really, of even appearing slightly enthusiastic. In all honesty, we probably had more fun in the queue. Perhaps others have different experiences on this ride, but for me, it sadly seemed that classic as it might be, the Jungle Cruise might have run its course.

Fortunately, the rest of the day was going to be far better.
We headed towards the most predictable of locations: Frontierland. Once there, we grabbed FastPasses to Big Thunder Mountain to avoid a listed 30 minute wait for that ride, and jumped onto Splash Mountain once again, noting the score in the tie between Team Manic and Team Fun. I don’t think it’s any wonder, by the way, why the “How do ya do?” song from that ride keeps popping into my head even now! Well it was great again, of course, and as I’m running out of superlatives for it, I’ll leave it at that.
After Splash Mountain, we had planned to do something to bridge the gap until our FastPasses became valid. But when we left the ride, we noticed that the cast members had dropped the standby wait time to 10 minutes on Big Thunder Mountain, and so we decided to just get on it at that time. This actually began a movement on our part to acquire FastPass tickets to the mountains as souvenirs. I don’t recommend this during busy days, because the way I see it, it is clearly unfair to other guests (if not downright unethical) to consume FastPasses and push back the return times just to grab a souvenir, but in this case it was essentially a non-issue. In fact, the Splash Mountain FastPass machine was dispensing tickets for times only minutes in advance of the actual times, and when we grabbed ours the plaza that they were in was essentially abandoned. And so it was really a nice opportunity for great souvenirs…. they have the date and the time on them, and I think that’s really a great touch for a keepsake.
Obviously Big Thunder Mountain was great once again, though as we were very near the very front of the cars, we hung suspended over the drops. Next time, the end car beckons…..
After we exited the ride, we walked more or less idly around the park for a bit. We stopped into some of the stores in Frontierland and Liberty Square, just enjoying an un-crowded day in the Magic Kingdom.
Eventually we found our way to Fantasyland, and as Jen wanted to see what all the fuss was about, we grabbed FastPasses to Peter Pan’s Flight, which seemed to be the only ride that day where people were lined up around the corner. For the interim, I suggested a second trip to the Haunted Mansion, which wasn’t as memorable for the mere fact that when you enter the mansion during the day, it’s impossible to suspend disbelief when your doom-buggy “exits” the mansion into the exterior graveyard, which is decidedly less light than the middle of a day in the Sunshine State. Still, we enjoyed it, particularly when the ghost that hitched a ride with us at the end of the attraction turned out to be the same ghost that joined us on our first night!
On to Peter Pan. And it was…. well…. it was cute, and a classic, and worth one—and I stress the singularity of the word one here—stop-in as a compliment to our long overdue trip to Disney World. The hanging ride vehicles are neat if you can recall a time when they were a novelty, and the essential idea of Peter Pan can be invigorating because an over-extended youth seems possible when you’re in a place like Disney—indeed, it is in so many ways the precise goal of a trip there. But if honesty is demanded, the ride needs an overhaul. It is clunky and noisier than it should be, and the models are often simply not convincing. If I’m being completely forthright, the highlight of that attraction was found in the arguments of a visitor who was trying to convince the attending cast members that he had been cleared by some anonymous park superior to take his service dog on the ride with him. As a similar scene can not be assured on any given trip to the attraction, I don’t really see the appeal of and thus can not recommend waiting in a long line for Peter Pan’s Flight.
Neither can I recommend Snow White’s Scary Adventures. And Jen will be honest about this one: she dragged me onto it. I didn’t mind so much, of course…. it’s a short ride, and a classic, and harmless, and if Jen wanted to go on it I wasn’t going to do any vetoing. But it is an entirely forgettable ride, one that might be fun for children (as long as they know the story, something I’m not sure all children today do) but that in no way transcends generations. Well, we’ve gone on it, and Jen won’t ask me again next time. A worthy result in itself, I suppose.

The next stop, on the other hand, was simply wonderful. I have to say that Mickey’s Philharmagic is a superbly entertaining show, and worth at least one visit every trip. I am, as I have stated before, a huge Donald Duck fan, and in this show he is in fine form, creating havoc and working out some instances of great comic value. Donald in Mickey’s sorcerer’s hat? That’s a can’t miss. And I think the physical touches are great additions, not so much because they initiate a visceral experience (as, say, It’s Tough to be a Bug would), but rather simply because they add to the absurd fun of it all. But I have to say that the real brilliance of the show is that it can be so much fun for people who like different things. Save for Fantasia and in some respects Peter Pan (it’s a beloved part of my childhood), I’m not a huge fan of the Disney films shown in the attraction, something that clearly would be a big draw for some. But no worries, here comes Donald Duck to make a farce out of all of them! Only Donald would have the misfortune of being shunned by a half-naked redhead and then romantically pursued by a lipstick-wearing electric eel, no one is better suited to go on an out-of-control magic carpet ride, and in general, he is the character most likely to do something stupid like play around with something that he can’t control. In all, both Jen and I loved the show, and hope that it runs for a long time so that we can go again.

Once Philharmagic was over, we headed past the hordes surrounding the sexed-up Ariel in her grotto, spotted Scrooge MacDuck near the Speedway (Jen had to tell me who it was, actually), and walked over to Tomorrowland. I wanted to ride Space Mountain once more, but Jen was not all that interested in doing so at that time. She doesn’t always do that well with centrifuge effects, and I think that the memory of it from the night before was a bit too fresh in her head. So I convinced her that grabbing FastPasses was a good idea, since we could keep them as part of our souvenir collection if we didn’t use them, or redeem them for a quick ride if she changed her mind. In the meantime, we hopped onto the PeopleMover once again, this time for a daylight trip above Tomorrowland, including another spectacular angle on the castle and a fun pass directly over the head of Stitch.
Still, it did nothing to change my girlfriend’s mind concerning Space Mountain. So instead, we headed up Main Street to hitch a ride on the railroad (I wasn’t familiar with the way to the Toontown station).
I had actually been looking forward to a relaxing ride on the railroad since we learned of the opportunity to visit Disney World. I can’t remember ever having ridden it when I was younger (though it’s entirely possible that I did—I have an awful memory as far as my childhood is concerned), and I think that in many ways it is a quintessential experience to circumnavigate the Magic Kingdom on one of Walt Disney’s beloved trains, which are very much like enlarged versions of the kiddie-trains found in so many small amusement parks and traveling fairs. When you’re in a place where you yourself become something an enlarged version of a child, there are few things more appropriate than to ride a train. I’m inclined to say that if you can’t enjoy doing that, you’re missing something intrinsic to the meaning of Disney World.
Jen and I thought it was great. I was struck immediately by a disabled cast member in full conductor regalia, loving every moment of what must be his dream job. And on the ride itself, everyone we passed stopped to wave at us, including a group of workers (who must have completed a lot less work that day than they might otherwise have if not contributing to the overall effect of the attraction. The props were delightfully corny, but what I really loved were the views of some of the attractions, including a glance inside the steamboat room of Splash Mountain, a look at Big Thunder Mountain, and a close pass by the side of Space Mountain and Tomorrowland. As well, as we circled back towards the main station, we spotted a monorail approaching the Magic Kingdom from the Contemporary, ultimately passing as close to us as is possible. It was wonderful.

I also need to mention that we became aware of a possible reason why other visitors were to claim that it was crowded in the Magic Kingdom that day when to us all empirical evidence suggested the contrary. At the Toontown station, it was abundantly clear that that section of the park was jam-packed. We were stunned by the crowds at that time, in fact, and it now seems to make sense to us. With school back in session (including Skidmore—fortunately my next scheduled class was for that Friday) and most people back to work, the majority of those remaining in Disney were families with very young children. Thus, there were short lines for most “adult” rides, while the sections of the resort geared towards young children were still quite crowded. At least that’s the way we see it now…..
When we exited the train, Jen wanted to take a closer look at the castle, which we had not yet been through, so we headed up Main Street. We had to take the left flanking route because some cast members were setting up for an event or show of some kind. After taking a look inside and around the perimeter, we wandered towards Liberty Square, where we bought some popcorn and more or less turned around. We took the other flanking path back past the castle, where we ran into one of the designated smoking areas. It was surprising, actually, as I had not even thought about the fact that there were very few people smoking on the property (we had seen a few here and there, apparently in violation of the rules). Here in New York there’s a smoking ban in public places, so it’s not unusual for smokers to be few and far between, so I hadn’t thought anything of it in Disney World until choosing to walk through the area where they all congregate. I don’t disagree with the smoking policy, but I felt bad for them, really, they seemed almost herded.
Also on that walkway was another large group of ducks, whom we fed some of our popcorn to. The ducks are so used to humans in Disney World that they came right up to us, and even ate the kernels straight out of our hands. Man and Nature alike love the Magic Kingdom, I guess (except the smoker’s area, that is!).
(Also excepting the Speedway. That place seems so environmentally unfriendly…. The fumes are enough to knock you out!)
Magical Ducks.....

After feeding the ducks, we headed to Main Street in search of a specific style of mug that she had seen in the window of the candy store. Of course that store didn’t have them, so we went on a hard-target search of a place that might, finally locating them in a section of the Emporium. Jen purchased it along with a Mickey sweatshirt for her mother, and I saw a great “Experience the Monorail” t-shirt that was not in my size. The clerk at the store, however, really struggled with everything that she could possibly struggle with, mis-calculating the cost of Jen’s purchase, messing up the form to send it back to the Beach Club, and in general taking an absurdly long time with all of it. I actually found it to be quite amusing, but it did leave us momentarily stranded in the store while a particularly bad high school band initiated the afternoon parade. Luckily, however, we were able to take advantage of a break in the procession, and we made it out of the front gates, with the intention of visiting the Wilderness Lodge before we needed to head back to the Boardwalk for dinner.
And the Lodge did not disappoint. The boat ride from the Magic Kingdom is wonderful, to begin with, and I can see the appeal of taking it every night. The grounds are beautiful…. with the trees lining the walks and serving as a backdrop to the towering hotel itself, it really feels like the boat has taken you out of Florida. And the pool is smaller than I remembered it, but beautifully designed.
Of course, the main attraction of the Wilderness Lodge is the magnificent lobby, which really is quite impressive. I love the fireplace and the detailing of the woodwork, and the lighting of the place is perfect to the design. It is a destination in itself, a place where a couple in need of a bit of relaxation can simply park themselves and melt into an isolated section of an overwhelming scene.
It might have been nice to spend a little more time there, but I wanted to make sure that we left enough time to show Jen the rest of the Polynesian and still make it back for dinner comfortably. So we grabbed a boat back to the Magic Kingdom, then a monorail to the Polynesian, where we took our time strolling about the grounds (in particular the pool, which was once the envy of all those who stayed in other resorts), which I still find charming and unique, even if I erroneously recalled that some of the rooms were in cottages—something that is part of a hotel in Hawai’i, not one in Orlando.
Eventually we walked over to the Ticket and Transportation Center and caught one final monorail back to EPCOT. It was a bittersweet moment for me, since I knew that it was going to be the last such ride of the trip. As if the monorail itself did not want it to end, we stalled over Future World, where we sat for a few minutes in postponement of the inevitable.
I have to make a note here. From the Polynesian to the Beach Club by this route took us comfortably under half an hour even with the monorail delay, and we did not tear through EPCOT at anything approaching a breakneck speed. It is highly inconvenient, and far less pleasant than any bus ride…..
Okay okay, that’s punching it in for the superfluous touchdown when the rout is already on. This is in no way reflective of the general sportsmanship of Team Manic.
Upon our return, we took a swim in Stormalong Bay. It was necessarily brief because on the horizon were the ominous signs of the first storm of our trip (we were extraordinarily lucky as regards the weather). I was stunned at the calm exhibited by the lifeguards, who actually changed shifts on the very metallic and very tall slide ladder even as there were rumbles of thunder. They must be so aware of the precise timing of storms…. or they could just be particularly reckless, I don’t know.

Jen and I sort of wanted some moments to ourselves before dinner, but as my brother was in the room, we instead took showers and began to dress for dinner. The gods conspire towards romance, however! Jen tried to put on a dress with a problematic zipper even though I had had trouble manipulating the zipper on it once before (for my birthday dinner the previous summer), and guess what….. we had trouble once more! But in this I saw an opportunity. I sent my brother ahead with instructions that we would meet everyone at the restaurant once we resolved the zipper issue, and Jen and I stole some moments for ourselves.


Once dressed (Jen in a new dress), we headed over to the Flying Fish in a driving rainstorm beneath my New York pushbutton umbrella—woefully inadequate to protect two adults from a Floridian downpour. And when the Boardwalk gets wet, it gets remarkably slippery…. Jen had trouble keeping her balance, and relied on me to catch her a couple times despite the fact that my footing wasn’t exactly solid itself. Still, we managed to make it without becoming completely drenched and/or permanently injured.
As we waited in the thoroughly inadequate waiting area of Flying Fish, we were forced to deal with dozens of pushy people shoving their way through the adjoining candy store as the final leg of their shop-to-shop internal rain-avoiding tours of the Boardwalk. They really need to lock those doors. Flying Fish is supposed to be a signature dining experience, and it is a function of a really poor design that people dressed nicely and waiting for dinner are put in a situation where they’re either standing shoulder-to-shoulder with damp people waiting for the rain to stop or else being shoved out of the way by other damp people trying to make their way down the Boardwalk without enduring the storm.

The space in the restaurant could also use some adjustment. The space could be nice because the décor is beautiful and the open kitchen is very modern, but I thought they tried to pack too many people in. Our party of 5 people was seated at a table for 4. I had to sit on the edge, with one of the convenience stations over my left shoulder. I was crowded (fortunately I didn't want wine that night, otherwise I don't know how we'd have managed), and it was really invasive to have servers clanking water pitchers next to my ear around all night. Again, for a signature restaurant to treat its patrons in such a way is unacceptable.
That said, our server actually was fairly good, and the service itself generally well spaced and efficient apart from one instance where my water glass went unfilled for a notable period of time (prompting me to quip about the difficulties of transporting water across so vast an area without having the ice melt). And most importantly, the food was fantastic…. indeed, that I want to go back despite the issues with the restaurant is a testament to its quality. As an appetizer, my fried calamari was amazing. Fried calamari is one of those dishes that every tavern in the country thinks they can make, but which few can. It needs to be cooked through so it isn’t too chewy but not so much to make it stringy, the breading needs to be light and expertly seasoned, and the accompanying sauce needs to be delicate yet complex to complement the flavor of the squid. The offering at Flying Fish was all of these things, to my delight. Indeed, it was the second best plate of it I’ve ever had (the best, in case anyone cares, was at Hutch’s, a Buffalo institution near Lafayette Circle).
It should be obvious that I love fried calamari enough for that to have been a self-evident choice (and by the way, my girlfriend assured me that her crab cakes were also quite tasty), but I stared at the menu for a long time before deciding on the Potato Wrapped Red Snapper. And though Jen’s scallops were large and tender and the accompanying squash risotto was expertly done, I did not have order envy this time, as the snapper was light and flavorful and the pairings with the potato wrap, the leaks and the wine sauce was perfect. It was one of the finest dishes of the entire stay. So good, in fact, that I can’t remember if I even had dessert that night, and if so, what exactly I chose.
One other memorable event occurred during the meal. My father, grumbling and complaining once more (and by this time he probably had some reason to actually do so, as we’d find out the next day), was delightful as always, complaining about the word “café” in some bizarre affiliation of the word with the negative qualities of a cheap eatery whose casual nature extends into a sloppiness that invites the wrong type of crowd (no kidding…. welcome to Team Fun). He’d been there before, by the way, to far different reviews. In any case, all of this changed when a young boy slid over from his table and began talking with him at length about airplanes and flying and airports and the like…. suddenly the food got better, the atmosphere was now acceptable, etc. I have to laugh about it all…. I’m glad my father had a good time (finally), and it was cute—if somewhat bizarre, considering his general feeling about children—to see him chatting it up with a seven-year-old. Oh, and not to mention it was a relief to all those who had been suffering through his moods for days by this point!
By the time we completed dinner, the rain had ceased. My mother and my brother became interested in a magician performing a show on the Boardwalk, but after a few minutes and several mistakes on the part of the magician we decided to start walking back towards the Beach Club. It was near the time scheduled for Illuminations, and I wanted us to be able to watch the show. I suggested that we re-enter EPCOT to watch it, but Jen didn’t feel inclined to hustle in order to go through security and navigate the crowds in time for the beginning. I should have told her that it was more than just a fireworks display; instead, I took her reluctance to mean that she really had no interest in walking much more—only later would I find out that she would have gladly gone in if she had known about the nature of the show. Oh well, there are worse tragedies. And really, it was quite pleasant to stand on the bridge over the canal that runs into EPCOT and watch the fireworks. I can think of worse ways to finish up an evening.

Well, not quite finish up one, as it is. In lieu of an opportunity to visit the old Contemporary arcade, Jen suggested that we spend a few minutes in the one at the Beach Club. It was fun enough….. I managed a fairly decent run on Ms. Pac Man and discovered that Jen really is horrible at Air Hockey (even though I hadn’t played in years and took it easy on her, I think the final score was still somewhere around 7-0). But in truth, both of us were moving quickly towards complete exhaustion as a result of the long day, so we retired to our room to rest up for our final full day in Disney World.