So when my husband and I decided to go with my best friend and her husband, who do have kids, it was a decision that inspired amusement in most of my other friends and family members. "Are you sure you're going to be OK?" some of them asked in concerned tones, exactly as they might have done had I announced I was intending on packing a bikini for a mini-break in downtown Afghanistan. But to be honest, I wasn't sure I was going to be OK. How was I going to cope without exclusive me-time? Like a diva I stated that I was going to need at least half an hour every day for the gym, or coffee and a quick read of my book, otherwise I knew I would be unbearable (forget kids' tantrums...mine are atomic).
So anyway, we came, we saw and we went back home again. And I survived - just about. But what of the whole 'Magic Kingdom'? Well, I shall detail some of the highlights of the experience below for your edification...
THE GOOD
- Spending precious time with my friend's children (who I really do love) and seeing how happy and excited they got every time they went on a ride, or saw a poor student on minimum wage dressed up in a sweaty Donald Duck costume in the 30-degree heat (sorry, I am a horrible cynic at times). Their pure excitement almost - almost - made up for 'The Bad' and 'The Ugly' sections to follow, but I simply wouldn't be me if I didn't include those, so there we go.
- The hidden little room at the bar in the posh Disneyland hotel that doesn't allow kids but does allow alcohol.
- Our hotel, which was actually lovely.
THE BAD
- The music. The bloody terrible music. In addition to the Disney songs piped through speakers everywhere you went, every day there was a parade along the 'Main Street' which featured all the aforementioned minimum-wage students in various Disney costumes. The accompanying music was God-awful; syrupy ballads that repeated on a continuous loop for over an hour. Though it did raise sort of a smile, listening to lyrics that went on and on about how it was "just like we dreeeeamed it...who knows just how far a dream can go" when at the time you're fighting crowds of E-number filled kids and their crazed parents just to get some air. Not many of my dreams feature large crowds of noisy people, but I suppose it's all horses for courses.
- Getting up at 6am every morning to 'beat the crowds' at the free-for-all Krypton Factor obstacle course that masqueraded as the breakfast buffet.
THE UGLY
- Most of the people. I didn't see one attractive person the entire time we were there; male or female (and yes, this included when I looked in the mirror!) Not an important observation, just a general one you can't help but make because places like that are bloody fantastic for people-watching.
- My (slightly xenophobic?) observation that the only people who ever said sorry if they got in your way or accidentally ran over your feet with their pushchairs were British. You could tell immediately who were Brits before they opened their mouths; not just because they queued, but because they expected to queue. More than that, they liked it. Nobody does queuing like we do. Observing the mainly Brit-formed queue for Buzz Lightyear's Lazer Blast made me feel proud, followed by crushing disappointment that I had even noticed things like that which surely puts me directly on the slippery slope that leads to "becoming just like my Nan".
Reading these back, I have to admit they concur beautifully with the attitude of someone who "doesn't really do Disney". But actually on the whole I had a lovely time, mainly because I was with people I genuinely enjoy spending time with and the trip was full of belly laughs, especially when we all went to Cafe Mickey (the place for meeting all the characters, darling) and we were lumbered with the grumpiest waiter on the planet. So what if I wanted to cave the occasional person's head in with a life-size model of the Mad Hatter, because it's the effort that counts, right?
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