Yet Another Happiest Place on Earth Report Disneyland, June 9-15th, 2008 Second Half

[SusanEllen]

Day Four, Thursday, June 12th

[So, now I’ve reached the page in my journal that’s neatly dated Thursday, June 12 with the words A Walk in Walt’s Footsteps on the next line and then not another word!! What little there was on the page was written before we left the room that morning. I’m sure I thought I’d have lots to record when we returned from the tour for an afternoon break and to dress for our dinner at Napa Rose. As it turned out, we did manage to get back to the hotel to change out of our park clothes, but with little time for anything else. Then after dinner we went to Disneyland where we stayed until midnight. It isn’t that I forgot the journal, but when we returned at 1 AM it was easy to convince myself that I could leave it to catch up later. We now see the sad results of that decision. The thing is, I know better. Many times I’ve seen Kevin writing notes in the parks, while standing in a line or when we stopped for a drink, but apparently that knowledge didn’t transfer and it never dawned on me to carry along my notebook. I’ve read trip reports by writers who said they were writing from memory and my hat is off to them. I can’t imagine doing an entire report that way after struggling with this one day. Luckily I did have help from our itinerary, the structure of the tour itself, and our photos. Especially helpful was the electronic brainstorming through e-mails with Sharon. I think I’ve patched together a fair representation of what Day Four was for us. Sharon has suggested I tell you that anytime you suspect that times don’t quite match or you think I surely left something out here or there, you can just plug in “shopping” and you’ll probably be right.]

Finally, we had a day that didn’t have to start before the sun was up—and that was a good thing, especially as it followed the jam packed day we’d had in DCA. Neither Sharon nor I are of the You-have-to-keep-going-we’re-at-Disney-for-goodness-sake! School of thought and “leisurely” would almost always be our preferred speed for moving through the parks. Somehow, though, the ambitious itinerary we’d set for ourselves was sweeping us along at a faster clip. The wake up call came the night before when we discovered that we were both too tired to carry on shopping in the World of Disney after dinner. Unbelievable to both of us, that we could be surrounded by thousands of Disney items to see, consider, caress, and/or buy, and neither of us could carry on shopping for longer than 10 minutes. I will admit to you now that before we left the World of Disney last night, I was this close to crying—or worse, whining! Sharon hadn’t been in much better shape. So, this morning we had a conversation about what we could do to make sure this never happened again. (What if Howard found out that Sharon actually had a shopping limit?! This could not happen!) I suggested that we could lessen the pressure to rush if we removed a Priority Seating or two. I thought that might give us a little more flexibility and allow us to avoid the feeling that we had to hurry and do things before it was time to return to the hotel to get ready for a dinner. We only had three dinners left—tonight’s Napa Rose (the reservations for which you would have had to pry out of our cold dead hands as neither of us was willing to let go of that PS—Sharon, because she’d never been there and me, because I had!), Friday night’s dinner at Steakhouse 55 (a Disneyland Hotel restaurant, recently re-imagined and refurbished and new to both of us), and Saturday night’s at Ralph Brennan’s Jazz Kitchen (the most difficult to change as I had arranged for friends from LA to meet us there). We hated to miss any of these restaurants, but agreed it was the thing to do. Steakhouse 55 seemed the easiest to let go and so I called Disney Dining and with a catch in my voice, cancelled the reservation. (Don’t feel too sorry for us, though, because in less than 24 hours Fate and organized labor were going to lend a hand.) That done, it was time to head for Disneyland where we were supposed to be at City Hall on Main Street by 9:20 to check in for the A Walk in Walt’s Footsteps tour that began at 9:30.

Lucky again to be part of a smaller than usual tour group, we were two of the five guests our guide and hostess Andrea would have to herd through the various lands of Disneyland. She was dressed in the modified riding outfit that Disneyland hostesses have always worn. She carried a riding crop that she was quick to tell us (as she flashed a Stepford wife smile) was never referred to as a whip.

[Editorial opinion about Disney Hostesses: Here’s where I’d like to mention that Andrea was very good at her job. Very good. She told us that she grew up just a few miles away and visited here countless times before she started working for Disneyland when she was a teenager. She recently graduated from university and though she didn’t tell us this, we know that by working in Guest Relations, particularly as a hostess, she is on the Disneyland management fast track. Andrea spoke in pleasant tones, moved and walked with perfect posture, but we know she hadn’t gone to any old modeling school. She’d been trained by Disney, to embody Disney excellence. I believe that in a Disney hostess we are as close as we’ve ever come to creating an American geisha.]

Andrea distributed and demonstrated the audio devices we would be wearing on the tour that would allow us to hear her as we traveled and when we were close to crowds without her having to raise her perfectly modulated voice. The tour itinerary was explained to us, questions answered, and we were off.

Straight up Main Street where things that most of you reading this already know were told to us—the names stenciled on the windows in the fashion of businesses a hundred years ago are all people who have been honored for their contributions to Disney and particularly Disneyland; the screened grates on the fronts of some of the Main Street stores that look like speakers are really for the disbursement of “baking scents” in the afternoon and evening when baking on Main Street has ceased for the day, so that it always smells like warm cookies even when there aren’t fresh ones coming out of the oven; that sort of thing.

You all know this view from the end of Main Street at Walt Disney World, so this should give those of you who haven't been to Disneyland yet a better idea of the size difference between Sleeping Beauty's Castle and Cinderella's. You, no doubt, know that Sleeping Beauty's Castle is the smallest of all the Disney castles. That can't be argued, nor can the fact that this one was and always will be the first Disney castle. When it was built in 1955 there was nothing else like it in any amusement park in the world. It was the castle in my childhood dreams.


We stopped at the hub for photos and then moved on to Adventureland where we rode the Jungle Cruise. (Speaking of this later Sharon and I said we probably would have skipped the Jungle Cruise on Tuesday if we’d known it was part of this tour, but you know, twice is better than once anyway.) We headed next to Frontierland with Andrea dropping pearls of Disney lore along the way. She really did know her Disney history and the route of the tour was logical and helped to keep the narration cohesive. In Frontierland we took a closer look at the Golden Horseshoe Saloon than I’d ever taken before and were told how the interior designer had built the set for the Doris Day movie Calamity Jane just before he was commissioned to design the Golden Horseshoe and if we’d take a look at that old movie we'd see the saloons were almost identical.

The Golden Horseshoe Saloon will look familiar to those of you who have been to the Hoop-dee-Doo Review at Pioneer Hall in Fort Wilderness at WDW.


Andrea pointed out the Fess Parker window above the store next to the Golden Horseshoe. In addition to Fess’ name, his Disney character name, Davy Crockett, is on the window.

We moved on to New Orleans Square and the attraction that was worth the cost of the tour, Club 33. For years I’ve wanted to get in that place! I’ve read its history in many books and read trip reports written by lucky people who’ve dined there. I’ve stared at the tiny photos posted online and imagined myself sitting in that Victorian opulence glancing casually around the room to see Tom Hanks or Johnny Depp at the next table. But the closest I’ve gotten to a Club 33 guest is my niece’s husband, who was the guest of a client there a couple of years ago. Sharon almost got us in this trip. She has a friend, who has a brother-in-law who maintained a Club 33 membership for years. When Sharon’s friend called him he said he would have been happy to let us use his privilege, but regretted having to tell us that he no longer had the membership. (About belonging to Club 33, though neither the price for membership nor the annual fee was mentioned, Andrea did tell us that the waiting list is so long and openings are so rare that the list was closed and no new names have been added for years.) So, I can’t buy my way into the Club, but the price of the tour (less the 20% VISA discount) could get me into the lobby!

Club 33 is above the Blue Bayou, the restaurant at the start of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. It famously is the only place in Disneyland where alcohol is served. It was designed and built for VIPs, celebrities, and Disney brass and you can bet that Andrea wasn’t going to let any of us up even one single step of the staircase that leads from the lobby to the Club. Call it a crop. Call it a whip. Whatever you call it, Andrea held hers subtly but noticeably higher as she spoke about the most exclusive part of Disneyland just at the top of the stairs.

[Club 33 is adjacent to what was originally intended as an apartment for Walt and Roy and their families. The space was never used for that purpose because Walt died while New Orleans Square was being built and apparently Roy no longer cared for the idea. The apartment space was used for years as an art gallery where guests could buy prints and see a rotating collection of Disney concept art and models from the Disney Archives. It was still being used for this purpose when the Stringers and I were there in 2005 and it was on the apartment’s balcony that we sat watching Fantasmic and enjoying the dessert buffet. The balcony is no longer available for Fantasmic viewing. The gallery was moved out to make way for the Dream Suite as part of the Year of a Million Dreams celebration.]

Although Walt never got to see Club 33 finished, his influence is all around, evident even in the lobby. The beautiful old elevator (which I suppose I should call “lift” as it came from England, I think, although it was called a French lift) was discovered, bought, and sent to Disneyland by Walt for this Club. We got to step inside for just a few seconds. What a shivery feeling that was, standing where you know not only Walt stood when he was choosing this lift, but hundreds (thousands!) of very famous people have over the past forty-five years.

Think of the Adventurers Club at WDW as I tell you this next thing. Walt didn’t want the Victorian interior decoration of Club 33 to be as stuffy as he feared it might be, so in addition to the fancy, gilded, and hand painted decorations that he knew were being chosen for the walls of the Club, he asked the Imagineers to make three talking heads that would pass for ordinary animal trophies but would be programmed to startle unsuspecting guests as they dined. Sound familiar?

We were in the Club 33 lobby longer than I imagined we’d be allowed. There was no problem with us taking as many photos as we wanted although there were only so many things to photograph in this small area. It was fun to see this place, to get inside the door I’ve looked at longingly from the outside so many times. I left thinking that now that I’ve gotten my foot in the door, it’s just a matter of time until I get up those stairs.

We walked through the back streets of New Orleans Square to the train station where we moved past dozens of guests/passengers to the conductor who opened a gate just for us when Andrea waved her crop toward him and smiled sweetly.

[No doubt you know that the Disneyland Railroad is one of the oldest rides in Disneyland, operating from the day the park opened. I just wrote—then unwrote—a bunch of stuff about Walt and his love of trains. I deleted it because it wasn’t part of the tour spiel and because as a Disney fan you probably already know about Walt’s fascination and personal history with trains. You may already know that one of the reasons Walt designed Disneyland as he did was to accommodate his beloved narrow gauge railroad. If you haven’t read about Walt & railroads and you’re planning a trip to Disneyland, I suggest you do read up on the subject as it will add so much to your experience when you actually see and ride on Walt's beautiful trains.]

From New Orleans Square we traveled through Critter Country and for awhile followed the Rivers of America, seeing wildlife both real and Disney, pioneer settlements and Native American villages along the way. For a few seconds we were inside Splash Mountain and able to see the riverboat with the talented animals singing “Zippity Do Da” below us. We stopped briefly for passengers to get off and on at the Toon Town station that’s between the back of Fantasyland and Toon Town. Immediately past the station we moved through the Small World exterior currently draped for its year long refurbishment--and yes, some things are being changed and some dolls are being added. Let's see how that goes over with the Disney Purists.

[You may have read Debbie’s and Tony’s replies to my Day Three report in which they both commented on how very different the same attraction can look in different parks. Debbie expressed her surprise at the uninspired facade of Muppet Vision in DCA. There are many attractions that can be compared this way, among them It’s a Small World. Here, too, there are extreme differences, only this time it’s in reverse with Disneyland having the elaborate façade.]

Here's the traditional look of Small World. It is the exterior that's been used ever since the ride was installed following its appearance at the 1964 World's Fair. I have lots of pictures of Small World with the original pastel colors but none that is digital, so I borrowed this photo from Google Images. The color is too saturated, but you get the idea.

This is how Small World has looked since it was done up for Disneyland's 50th Anniversary three years ago.

We got off at the Tomorrowland station. [When you go to Disneyland, I suggest you hop on the train and stay until you’ve done a complete circuit. It won’t take long and it will give you a better idea of Disneyland’s size. The Imagineers have been very clever in their use of space and in masking one area from another so that you may be tricked into thinking it’s much bigger than it is. Disneyland is, of course, smaller than the Magic Kingdom, and yet it has attractions not found at MK and still others worked into one land or another here that are actually in entirely different parks at WDW.]

We walked past the submarine lagoon and got our first look at the newest Disneyland ride (a reincarnation of one of its oldest) the Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage. We were circling the Matterhorn—“World’s first steel roller coaster, etc” when all of a sudden Sharon was not beside me anymore and I heard this sound of distress coming from behind me. I turned to see her fumbling with her camera. “Darn battery,” she was saying as she tried to pull out the old one and put in a new one. “Darn. Darn,” she was saying and it was obvious it was not the camera that was upsetting her.

SUSAN: What’s the problem?
SHARON: There are some people from Sierra over there! (Sierra meaning Sierra College where until this past year Sharon worked in the office of the president; “over there” meaning the exit from Matterhorn.)
SUSAN: So, what’s the problem?
SHARON: They were holding hands and laughing!!!
SUSAN: Well, what’s the problem?
SHARON: They’re married!!
SUSAN: And the problem . . . ?
SHARON: Not to each other!!!
SUSAN: Oh!

Here’s the shot Sharon finally got of the scandalous couple (an affair rumored for years, but now here was the proof—nearly! You’ll have to look hard because they had just disappeared around the curve in the walk when Sharon finally got her camera back on.) This is a small park-like area at the edge of Autopia. The track at the top of the picture was originally Disneyland’s TTA track, then the magnificent but ill-fated Rocket Rods, and it now stands unused.

Andrea, apparently unaware of this bit of soap opera happening on the fringes of her orderly little tour group, was leading us out of Tomorrowland, on our way to Adventureland and the Enchanted Tiki Room. We entered with the next group of guests, the CM at the door letting our little party in first, and watched the show that, like the Jungle Cruise, we’d done on Tuesday. When the other guests exited after the show, we stayed behind and heard the story of how on a trip to New Orleans Walt found a charming little music box--a bird in a cage whose beak opened and closed in synchronization with its song. He bought two of the birds—one for his collection and one for the Imagineers to take apart. Thus Audio-Animatronics was born. We were also told that originally the Tiki Room was planned to be a restaurant with the Animatronics being a dinner show. The cupboard in the center of the room was actually a bussing station and Andrea opened one of the doors to demonstrate. She then left us, returning in a couple of minutes wearing a white glove on the hand in which she was carrying a precious Disneyland artifact--Miss Lily, one the original flowers in the Tiki Room, still operational, but now retired.

Miss Lily is one of the oldest Audio-Animatronics in the world.


Our tour had now been to every land. Andrea had been regaling us with vast amounts of Disney history for nearly three hours. We certainly had gotten our money’s worth, but we weren’t done yet. Back up Main Street we marched to the Main Street Cinema, where we stepped into the small viewing room where ancient Mickey cartoons run continuously. What a perfect way to end this tour, to follow Walt’s Footsteps to the Mouse who made it all possible. Here Andrea recounted the story we all know so well about the swindle pulled on Walt and his loss of Oswald Rabbit in 1927, the event that forced him to create a new starring character--Mickey. She reminded us that two years ago (almost 80 years after he was stolen away) Oswald was returned to the Disney Company when Bob Iger (yeah, Bob!) did a deal with Universal and traded ESPN Monday Night Football announcer Al Michaels for Oswald. (Al has said that he believes his place as a Trivial Pursuit answer was cinched by that deal.) I haven’t told you by half what we heard on this tour. It was an excellent tour—format, content, and pace. If you get a chance and you’re the kind of person who enjoys knowing the back stories of familiar places or if you just love Walt, take this tour.

We left the Cinema at 12:30, three hours after the tour had begun, but still not done. Lunch was included with the tour. Once more we walked back up Main Street, this time to the Plaza Garden Stage area just to the left of the Castle, in a spot wedged between the Castle and Frontierland where it's fairly hidden by a wall of shade trees that have grown large since their planting half a century ago. I don’t know how many times I’ve been in this park, but I truly thought I’d been everywhere. I hadn't! I'd never been here! But I’d seen this stage many times when I was a little girl watching the original Disneyland TV show, programs with young entertainers that Disney hoped to make pop stars like Annette Funicello (Mouseketeer in the 1950s Mickey Mouse Club) and Hayley Mills (star of several Disney movies including Pollyanna and Parent Trap). Week after week I would watch them standing on this very stage singing songs the Sherman brothers had written for them (always with the synergy those Disney folks!). I had been reminded of those concerts on this stage years later when old black and white kinescopes of those early episodes were resurrected and shown on the Disney Channel program Vault Disney . I had no idea this stage was still here. I assumed it had been dismantled years ago to make way for something else. Disneyland is hemmed between four Anaheim streets and so has always been hard pressed to find space for new things. Often a new attraction here means an old one has to be retired to the great Yesterland of our memories. So, it was a delight to find this historic stage still here and still being used--today by a large high school choir. They were singing show tunes to a small audience of friends and chaperones, but sang like it was a packed house. Umbrella covered tables bordered the back of the audience area and it was here that we met another hostess who was waiting for us with our lunch. We were given the sandwiches that we'd chosen when we checked in this morning, really good ones from the Main Street Bakery served with a wonderful fresh fruit salad. Our cookies were from the Bakery, too, of course. Andrea sat at our table and was charming company. She talked a lot and only ate a few potato chips. She told us she would eat her sandwich later when she was “off stage.” I stand by my Stepford wife reference at the beginning of this report, but even so, I have to give Andrea proper due for being Disney perfect in her role as hostess. She was very serious about her responsibilities, but her genuine enthusiasm for her work shone through just a little bit now that she was sitting with us and breaking bread. She told us she loved her job; that tours like ours were fun, but she really liked the days when she served as a VIP hostess. She said Julie Andrews had been in the park recently. I asked her if she’d gotten many autographs. She said that she, like all CMs, was not allowed to ask for autographs, but if a celebrity offered to sign something, she could take it. I asked who she’d met. She really couldn’t tell us because Disney policy protects the privacy of VIPs. She said she enjoyed those VIP assignments because on those days she takes the VIPs from ride to ride and she gets to ride whatever they are riding. She told us that sometimes park guests said ugly things as she moved her VIPs to the front of lines, but, she reminded us, it’s always about show here and the show is always DISNEY. And here’s where Andrea’s veneer cracked! She didn’t exactly cross the policy line, but she just couldn’t help herself any longer and had to drop a name as she elaborated her point about how it’s always Disney’s show. She said, "For instance, when I have David and Victoria Beckham and their children here, I can’t have them stand in a line or else everyone would forget about the ride and the ride's story and all anybody would think about are the Beckhams!" She was way off the script now and the sparkle in her eye was genuine. Andrea, bless her heart, is a real person after all.

. . . to be continued

 

[SusanEllen]

Day Four, Part 2

[Part 2 of Day Four is what happened during the afternoon and evening of the day that began with our A Walk in Walt’s Footsteps tour.]

I tried to take photos of the tour souvenir pins we received for both tours, but with limited success—that is, I managed a nearly viewable one of the Cruzin’ California segway tour, but absolutely nothing of use with the Footsteps pin. The fairly decent shot of one I found on Google Images is not a jpeg file so I couldn’t download it on Photobucket to display with my report. I can, however, include a link so if you’re even remotely interested in seeing this pretty little pin you can find it here: http://www.pinpics.com/img/p709/pin35492th200

The Cruzin’ California souvenir pin is 3-D--and unfortunately my blurry photo looks like you need 3-D glasses to view it! The segway in the foreground slides on a track. What you see in the background is the present entrance to California Adventure, albeit so out of focus you can just barely make it out. Please, look at the photo of the entrance below to see what you're supposed to be able to see on this pin. We were told by CMs that all of the original entrance to DCA will be removed for the do-over—no more giant letters spelling CALIFORNIA, no more mosaic murals on each side of the gate, and no more San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge. I hadn’t really considered myself a pin collector until now, but with this being a pin with a number limited to those taking the Cruzin’ tour and with the art only useable until the DCA entry is changed . . . I think I actually have a special pin!

Here’s the gate area for Disney’s California Adventure, facing the Disneyland gate only a few dozen yards away. If you wait a couple of years to visit, the DCA entry won't look like this.

We said goodbye to Andrea and our fellow Footstep tourists and made a beeline for Adventureland and Indiana Jones. For those of you who haven’t been to Disneyland yet, I should explain that this phenomenal ride bears no resemblance to the Indiana Jones stunt show at Disney's Hollywood Studios in FL. The Indiana Jones Adventure is an exciting ride through an incredible show venue (much of it underground) with an elaborately decorated queue so dense with detail that by the time you’ve worked your way through the maze of caves and narrow tunnels (some of them ancient ruins, others passageways dug by Indy and his archeological crew) you’ll feel like you’ve entered the movie. This gorgeous ride was part of the deal George Lucas made with Disney about fifteen years ago that resulted in the placing of Star Tours in both US parks (not sure if it’s in Tokyo or Paris) plus Indiana Jones in Disneyland just in time for Disneyland’s 40th anniversary 13 years ago. I’m not sure why it was never built in Florida but I have two guesses—1) Disneyland likes to have some exclusive things. and 2) The ride cost more than the original movie, a lot more, I think. When you see it, you’ll know where the money went—it looks exactly like what a George Lucas created Disney dark ride would look like, because that’s what it is! I usually shy away from comparing Disneyland and Walt Disney World or things in them, but I have no problem with comparing Disney things to Universal things, so I will gladly go on record as saying that Indiana Jones Adventure (Temple of the Forbidden Eye) beats Universal’s Revenge of the Mummy by a mile. So, if you are a Mummy fan, here is your reason to get to California.
[It may seem odd to find in Disney parks attractions based on the decidedly non-Disney Star Wars and Indiana Jones movies and on Jim Henson’s Muppets until you remember that George and Jim grew up watching Walt on TV every week and seeing him, as we all saw him, as the embodiment of family entertainment and Disneyland as the permanent display of his achievements. I can certainly understand why George and Jim (or anyone) would want their favorite characters enshrined in Disneyland (et al.) because as long as these parks exist the characters they brought to life will be lovingly cared for.]

Having told you all that about the Indiana Jones Adventure, I now have to tell you that we didn’t get on it that afternoon. Taking a look at the long-ish line marching up the path to the Temple’s entry we decided to get Fast Passes and try this later, as in after dinner later. We only had two hours before we needed to be on our way back to the hotel to get ready for our early seating at Napa Rose and the Return Time for Indy was three hours out.

We headed deeper into the park to Critter Country (that’s just beyond New Orleans Square) with the idea of riding Splash Mountain. However, the 60 minute Standby line changed our minds. The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (only a few steps beyond Splash) was a walk on—so we walked on. The Winnie ride is an example of something new in Disneyland that meant something old had to go. It stands on the spot that used to be the site of the Country Bear Jamboree. Riding Winnie’s Many Adventures and adding Splash to our evening plans pretty much finished the checklist for Critter Country. We decided to go next to Big Thunder Mountain Railroad which at WDW would have been a few long strides from Splash, but here is on the opposite side of the Rivers of America in the spot at WDW that is occupied by the Haunted Mansion. This is the sort of difference between the two parks that causes the look of mild confusion to cross my face now and then as I get several steps down a path then suddenly realize it isn’t going where I want to go. The 5 minute Standby Line at Big Thunder Mt. Railroad referred to the five minutes it took us to walk the queue to the loading area, so we were on, enjoyed the wildest ride in the Wilderness, and then were off again in just a few minutes. We took the path that circles behind BTMR (a passage that doesn’t exist in MK) that runs between BTMR and Big Thunder Ranch (also not at WDW) as our route back to Main Street. This path spills into the “left” side of Fantasyland and that gave us a chance to size up the crowds there. As you might expect on any afternoon in Fantasyland, the crowd had grown considerably since we passed through here on the Footsteps tour this morning, thickened by families with the smallest guests in tow, not quite ready for their afternoon naps, standing in what always seem to be the longest lines in the park. We chose not to join any of those lines and walked on through the Castle and on to some serious shopping on Main Street. With only a detour or two in shops along the way we made it to the Emporium where we spent an hour shopping (and this time buying things)—some things for us, some for others. (Often what we found suitable for friends or family seemed like something we’d want, too, which meant buying at least two of just about everything!) In front of the Emporium Mickey was energetically leading the band.

Back to the hotel with just enough time to refresh and dress then we headed back across Disneyland Drive to the Grand Californian and Napa Rose.

I’ve tried and discarded several adjectives in the attempt to describe the Napa Rose, but am really and truly stuck for finding a way to adequately communicate how lovely this place is and how much I love it. The Napa Rose restaurant and lounge are elegant yet casual, spacious yet cozy with staff that is professional yet personable. My words fail, so once again I direct you to Dan and Jackie’s blog and Dan’s eloquent description of the Napa Rose and its food. http://danandjackievideo.blogspot.com/ I will spend some words telling you about the people Sharon and I encountered there and I will tell you what we ate. First I should explain that the exhibition kitchen seating is really a bar that separates the open kitchen from the dining room. It is divided in half by a walk through, with four seats on each side. Sharon and I were seated at the half first reached on entering the restaurant—the same place I’ve been seated for my two previous dinners here—once on my solo trip and more recently with India and Georgia as my companions.

About the food:
Directly in front us about 10 feet away was the cooking station where our appetizer was prepared. We shared the Sautéed Hand Harvested Diver Scallops with a Sauce of Lemon and Lobster, accented with Tahitian Vanilla (as described on the menu), two gorgeous scallops that we watched the cook carefully select from the refrigerated drawer at his station. We watched as he bent several times so that his work table was eye level as he sized scallops until he was satisfied that he had two close enough to the same thickness that he could prepare them together. Although our seating suggested eating at a diner, our server carried our food from the kitchen and served it properly. I assure you, the cooks didn’t slam our plates on the counter from the kitchen side diner-style—although it was such wonderful food, I wouldn’t have objected to getting it in front of me 10 seconds quicker!

As I wasn’t taking photos in the restaurant, this shot of the cooking station closest to our seating is a photo from Google Images

Sharon chose the Chervil Crusted Alaskan Halibut with toasted almonds, cauliflower, golden raisins, capers and blood orange vinaigrette that she absolutely loved. Living in California with access to fresh seafood, Sharon has developed the skills to discern what is truly good seafood. The Napa Rose halibut received her highest praise. I enjoyed every bite of the Angus Filet Mignon "au Poirve" topped with Melted Brie, Roasted Walnuts, Sun-Dried Cherries and Cabernet Sauvignon-Cherry Essence that was served to me. As much as crediting our determination not to repeat our disappointing behavior at Catal the night before when we skipped dessert, I have to acknowledge that the real reason we were able to select and enjoy a fabulous Napa Rose dessert (that is, two desserts—one for each of us) was the fact that we allowed ourselves nearly three hours for this meal. Sharon ordered the Napa Rose’s Signature Scharffen Berger Chocolate Velvet Pate with Candied Hazelnut Anglaise and Bailey's "Pot de Crème" (which I’d had on both previous visits) and I had the Valrhona Chocolate Truffle Cake with Milk Chocolate-Orange Ganache and Cinnamon Ice Cream. We had perfect meals beginning to end.

About the people:
1) Our server was expert and attentive. He was there when we needed him, but he did not hover. Every service he delivered came accompanied with, “It is my pleasure to serve you.”

2) Our chef, Andrew Sutton, has been the executive chef of the Napa Rose since it opened in 2001. Chef Andrew had been in charge of the kitchen the night in 2005 when I was here with the Stringers. We watched then as he conducted the Napa Rose kitchen workers like an orchestra through a most amazing feat. In addition to serving spectacular food to hundreds of guests throughout the evening, at one point the troops were rallied to form a production line for the preparation of 60 identical artistically constructed salads and 60 bowls of soup to serve as starters for a large party; then later the line re-formed to make 60 desserts for that group. Of course, it was vital that the pace of production match the pace of the delivery system and it was entertaining, to say the least, to see each plate made ready just as it was needed for pick up by the brigade of servers. As pots of soup were brought out we heard Chef Andrew say (only a little louder than the voice he’d been using all evening, but firmly!), “I need three gallons of soup. I only have two and a half here. What am I going to do?” I’ve never seen people move faster. Somehow by the time soup had been ladled into (I’m guessing) the 45th bowl, another pot of soup had been produced. I told Chef Andrew on this night this summer that making the last pot of soup appear was our memory of him from that dinner three years ago and that it had made us laugh every time we told someone about it. He broke into a slow smile and said, “When you have the right people working in the kitchen, you don’t have to yell and curse at them to get things done--like you see on TV.” Obviously that was true, but I know if I’d been working for him and heard the tone of voice he used that night, I would have scurried to get things done, too. Chef Andrew sent us samples of things we hadn’t ordered, which were lovely additions to our dinner. As busy as he was, he stopped to chat with us several times through the evening, giving us his attention, but only for a half minute or so at a time. He had a kitchen to watch.

[Note for Matt: I stuck to my promise to take no food photos. This is not my picture.] This is a Disney publicity shot taken at the kitchen exhibition seating from the kitchen side of the bar. Chef Andrew is standing at the spot between Sharon’s chair and mine.

3) Our dinner companions, who arrived about a quarter of an hour after we were seated, were charming and gregarious company. Orange County residents, they only lived minutes away from Disneyland. They were friends and neighbors of Chef Andrew and his wife and once we learned this, we understood why the server had announced to them that he was retrieving their menus as Chef would be selecting their dinners for them that night! (Sharon was happy to hear that the entrée she had ordered was one of the Chef’s choices for his friends.) The funniest story we heard the whole trip we heard that night. It seems that when the Suttons first moved from Napa Valley to our dinner partners' neighborhood, the lady dining with us had been introduced to Mrs. Sutton by another neighbor. At that meeting they briefly discussed what a lovely place this was to live and that their kids would be going to the same school, that sort of thing—but no mention of what anyone did for a living. Later in the day when our storyteller ran into Mrs. Sutton at the grocery story, she took the opportunity to do the friendly thing and invited her new neighbors to dinner. Mrs. Sutton, who by the way had herself been a chef at a four star restaurant in Napa before their move to Southern California, accepted the invitation and then called Mr. Sutton terribly excited because no one ever invited them for a home-cooked meal. Still having no idea that their dinner guests were chefs, our dinner friends welcomed the Suttons into their home, where she was whipping potatoes with her mixer and he was tending the grill for the steaks he was about to cook. It was around that time that occupations came into the conversation. She said that shock and panic quickly gave way to laughter and dinner actually went very well until the disastrous dessert. The frozen pie from Costco that didn't quite bake all the way through that she served to two (two!!) four star chefs will haunt her forever. Chef Andrew walked up in time to hear the end of a story that you know these friends must have laughed about a hundred times. He told us we had no idea what a rare treat any food was that he didn’t have to cook himself. What fun! As we parted we thanked these lovely people for making a wonderful dinner even better.


Here’s the place where the double deficit of no notes and the limitations of my long term memory really catches up with me. The only thing I can remember for sure is that we left the Napa Rose too late to make it to the 8:45 Remember Dreams Come True fireworks that we'd hoped to see that night. I think we wandered through some of the shops in Downtown Disney and that this is the night that we stopped at the cigar cart where Sharon and the cart manager spent half an hour puzzling through which cigars she should buy for Howard. Ironic, isn’t it? The only time I started feeling we were at a shopping venue just a little too long, is the one time Howard probably wouldn’t have felt the need to rush Sharon. We finally entered Disneyland and headed for Indiana Jones, Fast Passes in hand, only to discover the ride was down. How long it took to get back on line was of no concern to us once we decided we’d leave it for another day. The only other thing I'm certain happened that night was that, pumped by the success of getting on rides without much waiting after the crowds thinned following the fireworks, we rushed to Splash Mountain at about two minutes before the announced closing time of midnight. We made it to the loading dock just as the last log was launched, about two minutes after twelve. An apologetic CM told us the ride was closed. We weren’t disappointed. We’d a fabulous day that started with us walking in Walt’s footsteps. We had ridden some favorite rides in the afternoon and had enjoyed an evening of great company and great food. Any rides we managed after all that was just gilding the lily. We walked away from Splash Mountain smiling and laughing—and headed straight to the Emporium for an hour's worth of unhurried Disney shopping.

 

[SusanEllen]

Day Five, Friday, June 13th

[I like surprises and this day was full of them—most of them good and considering it was Friday the 13th that must mean we were double lucky. The first surprise was an extraordinarily good one that began at 6AM, two hours before our alarm clock was supposed to wake us.]

We had shopped the Emporium for an hour after park closing last night and by the time we were back in the room and ready for bed it was well past 2AM. I reset the alarm for 8 giving us as much time as possible before we’d have to hop up to begin a long day at Disneyland that would start with park opening at 9AM and go through the 10:30PM performance of Fantasmic—and if we were tough enough, we’d stay on to midnight and park closing again. We had to be at the gate at the opening time in order to get to the back of the park as quickly as possible for Mickey’s Toontown Morning Madness where we were going to be sworn in as Honorary Citizens—and we weren’t about to miss our chance to be Toons for a day no matter how little sleep we'd get in order to be there for the ceremony. It felt like I’d only just closed my eyes when the alarm went off. At least, I thought it was the alarm until I reached for the clock to discover that it was as quiet as could be—and it was straight up 6AM. What?!!!? Jolted a little wider awake I now realized that the noise that woke me was coming from outside, on the street fourteen stories below. I could tell now that it was voices I heard and lots of them. They were yelling. Chanting and yelling. Sharon was awake by this time, too. Thinking it would stop soon and we could go back to sleep, neither of us got up to see who was causing the racket. When it didn’t let up we had a brief, sleep fogged discussion about who would be rude enough to make so much noise at this time of the morning and we came to the conclusion that this might be a group of high spirited high school seniors who were just leaving DCA after Grad Night Explosion and were having one last hurrah before saying goodbye to each other and their childhood. We’d heard from an Emporium CM that last night was a Grad Night (she told us she was stuck working in the store all night until 6 this morning, poor dear) and that Disneyland and DCA were remaining open until 6AM as a special ticketed event for graduating high school seniors. But after a few minutes, when the chanting didn’t stop and we noticed that every few beats the word “NO!” could be clearly understood, we realied this probably wasn’t a spontaneous pep rally after all. We got up and pulled back the curtain to see about fifty people dressed in various Disney costumes and uniforms (no two the same) marching in a large oval pattern in front of our hotel, some holding signs and all chanting.

It was obvious to us now that this was a picket line of Cast Members expressing their displeasure with the Company in a way that the Company couldn’t ignore. [You will not see this sort of thing at WDW as Florida Cast Members are not unionized.] Also obvious to us was the fact that we weren’t going to be able to get back to sleep with all that noise, so with barely four hours of rest we were up for the day. Oddly we weren’t upset about it, I suppose because we were both so excited about today’s plans that we just looked at the early wake up as bonus time. We talked about how smart we were to have cancelled our booking at Steakhouse 55 for this evening. Until that change we had four major things with fixed times on the schedule for today—Mickey’s Toontown Morning Madness, our Mandara Spa appointment, Steakhouse 55 for dinner, and the Fantasmic Dessert Buffet. After several jam packed days in a row in the parks we had realized that our Friday, especially the afternoon and evening, were a little overbooked and we had one awfully inflexible schedule on our hands. Missing Steakhouse 55 seemed a shame, though, because neither of us had ever been there and the CM who had recommended it when I was making plans for this trip was definite that this newly refurbished and redecorated restaurant was the place not to miss. But we resigned ourselves to the fact that this would have to be something on our list for the next trip. We chatted on. The marching CMs chanted on. Time moved on. We decided to go ahead and get ready to leave for the day and that’s when it finally it dawned on me, that if this picket line continued and if there were another at the back door of the hotel, it would mean that the only way we’d get to Disneyland would be by crossing a picket line. I had a brief moment of panic as crossing a picket line is not within my politics. Sharon had the good idea to call the front desk and ask what was happening now in the hopes of finding out what would be happening in the next hour. She was told that indeed this demonstration was due to a contract negotiation impasse between the CMs union and the Disney Company and then she was asked if we were inconvenienced in any way because of the picketing. Quick thinker that she is and always one for the direct approach, Sharon said, “Well, a little. We didn’t plan to get up at 6. Will we be getting free stuff?” Yes, indeed. If we would stop at the Guest Services desk we could pick up our vouchers for breakfast at any of the resort hotels—the PCH Grill here at Paradise Pier or Storyteller’s Café at the Grand Californian or—wait for it—Steakhouse 55 at the Disneyland Hotel! Fate and organized labor had seen to it that we weren’t going to miss Steakhouse 55 after all. And we weren’t going to have to forfeit a big chunk of time later in our busy day to eat there. And Disney was paying for it! The picketers picketed from 6AM to 8AM (a planned demonstration rather than a strike, thank goodness), then left, I suppose to go to work doing what they do every day to make our vacations happy ones, and we were free to leave our hotel and head for the Disneyland Hotel with clear consciences and breakfast vouchers.

We had both read about Steakhouse 55, so knew that until the recent refurb it was Granville’s Steak House—named for Bonita Granville the movie star wife of the builder and original owner of the hotel and friend of Walt’s, Jack Wrather. Thirty years after it was built the Disney Company bought the Disneyland Hotel (in 1988) in anticipation of Disneyland’s expansion from theme park to resort. The 2004 restaurant re-do paid homage to the Granville/Wrather era even as it added a major amount of Walt to the theming. The primary decorations are gorgeous black and white photos of Hollywood elite from the 1930s, 40s and 50s, many with Walt in the picture, too.

In this photo Walt is flanked by two Oklahomans--you recognize Sharon on the right, of course, and that's Will Rogers to the left of Walt.

Steakhouse 55 would be a lovely place for dinner, very elegant, very intimate. It’s a far fancier eatery for breakfast then I’m used to—that’s not a complaint. Our server was of Napa Rose caliber, friendly but very professional. The dining room was only sparsely populated, though I know there were many breakfast eaters in the hotel that morning. We must have passed two hundred of them milling about the lobby waiting to be seated at a character breakfast in Goofy’s Kitchen. Very noisy out there. Very quiet in here. This was a deluxe way to start the day and I could get used to it. The food was excellent—the bacon, superb. [If you just read that and thought “American bacon!! Superb? I don’t think so!” I would understand that response. I, too, have eaten at IHOP and Denny’s. To be fair to those two fine restaurant chains, most restaurant bacon in the US comes to the table either limp and translucent or burned all to hell. (Can I say that on DIS?) As you know, American bacon has lots of fat, which is what makes it so tasty when it’s done right, but also is what makes cooking it right so tricky. It’s a labor of love (and a little dangerous) to stand close to frying bacon, the kind of thing your grandmother would do for you. I think that’s what drives many of us to keep ordering it, the hope that this time the cook will care like Grandma—and this time the cook did! I really wish I’d asked to meet the Steakhouse 55 fry cook. I would have gently shaken his burned and blistered hand. That bacon was a culinary high point of a vacation that was filled with remarkable food.]

Out the door of the Disneyland Hotel and onto the walkway through Downtown Disney, we were at the gates of Disneyland in mere minutes arriving just before the park opened. As soon as we were allowed in we hurried up Main Street, around the Hub, through the Castle, to the back of Fantasyland, stopping at the gate of Toontown just long enough to hand over our Morning Madness vouchers, then straight on in not stopping until we reached City Hall. There we found a little patio table and chairs where we sat waiting for the citizenship ceremony. [Mickey’s Toontown Morning Madness is a vacation package perk, so in theory only Disney hotel guests can attend this event. It occurs three times a week at park opening, which is actually an hour earlier than Toontown’s regularly scheduled opening. There were a lot of people crowded around the porch of City Hall waiting for Mayor Mickey’s appearance, but not nearly so many people as would be walking around here when the gate opened for all other guests in about an hour.] Our wait wasn’t long. With much pomposity and flair, the Master of Ceremonies introduced his Honor Mayor Mickey who stepped up to the railing accompanied by Minnie. I’m not sure what her official capacity was, but then we never do know exactly what Minnie’s status is, do we? Mickey delivered his proclamation and then asked us the official questions of citizenship to which we all loudly answered, “I do!” He declared us all Toons for the Day and welcomed us into the Toontown community. This inspiring ceremony was followed by much energetic dancing, singing, and flag waving.

Our first ride was Roger Rabbit’s Car Toon Spin. This ride is so much fun. The queue is so rich in detail taken right out of Who Framed Roger Rabbit?that by the time you reach the loading area you feel like you’re in a cartoon. I’m sure I read somewhere that the Imagineers took a teacup from the Mad Tea Party and put it on the track of Pinocchio’s Daring Journey when they were working out how to do Roger Rabbit’s Car Toon Spin. When you ride it you’ll know that story is true. You’ll be sitting in a cute little yellow cartoon taxi as you ride through scenes from the movie but if you turn the steering wheel you’ll be spinning like a teacup even as you’re moving along the track.

A tiny photo borrowed from Google Images.

This one's for Kevin. (He loves the Weasels.)



Next a quick ride on Gadget’s Go Coaster. It's fun and fast and just about the size of Goofy’s Barnstormer in Magic Kingdom. We walked through Toontown, our town today, where we saw some of our famous neighbors out among the new citizenry.

We left just as the Morning Madness hour ended and made a beeline to the Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage in the resurrected submarine lagoon in Tomorrowland (situated just across the walkway from the Matterhorn that’s in Fantasyland). The newest E-ticket ride, it was inevitable that Nemo would have the longest queue every day we’ve been in the park as lots of guests have been willing to stand in line for a first ride on the submarines. Though the Nemo Voyoage was going to be a first for us this actually wasn’t going to be our first ride on these submarines. I’d ridden in one of them 48 years ago when my Mother took my sister Sally and me on the most spectacular vacation of our childhood—to Disneyland when I was thirteen years old and Disneyland was only five! Sharon also had ridden the submarines as a child, but neither of us as adults had seen the lagoon open and the submarines operating. Nemo was on our Must Do list and we’d simply been waiting for the best opportunity to ride it. This morning we considered the pertinent factors on our march to the lagoon: 1) Disneyland had already been open for an hour during which time we knew the Nemo queue would have been steadily growing, but also knew that the line was not likely to be shorter at any time before the end of the park day. 2) Fast Pass wasn’t available to us for this ride. 3) The posted time when we arrived at the entrance to the zigzag was only 55 minutes, the shortest time we’d seen so far. 4) The morning air was still pleasantly cool and neither of us had even a hint of “park feet” this early in the day. Adding it all together we decided to join the line as it seemed this was going to be our best bet (But then, we didn’t know what Fate had in store for us on Sunday). Much of the zigzag was covered by huge umbrellas and having that little bit of shade made the wait in full morning sun more comfortable. Within a very few minutes we were no longer at the end of the line—so many people quickly filled the zigzag that the number of waiting guests doubled and we found ourselves in the middle of a very long line. We snapped photos and talked about what we’d been doing and were going to be doing and then a voice behind us said, “Excuse me. You seem to know your way around here. Would you help us?” We turned to meet a beautiful young woman and handsome young man. They told us that they were in Anaheim for a conference that had finished the day before and on a whim decided to change their travel plans and stay over one more day to visit Disneyland when while getting to know to each other they discovered that neither of them had ever been to Disneyland. They had come to the park that day with no preparation, no plan, and no idea what they should do to make the most of their one day. Their question was: Would we help them? The real question was: Could anyone stop us?! For the next 45 minutes Sharon and I told them everything we knew about Disneyland and gave them a list of things we thought were too good to miss with an explanation of what each ride and attraction was so that they could choose what sounded like most fun to them. They seemed genuinely interested in what we were saying and paid such close attention that when they asked questions we could see that they were forming a plan for the rest of their day. No wonder these two had been sent to represent their companies—once they realized they’d come to a place that was no ordinary amusement park they were doing research on the fly to come up with a plan so as not to waste an unexpected opportunity. The four of us climbed down into our submarine and went on the hunt for Nemo. When we climbed back into the daylight we wished each other well and went our separate ways.

Fairly sure that much of the seascape is from the original submarine ride. The projection of Nemo and Friends is similar to that at WDW, however there's more of the story presented here.

Over to Space Mountain where we found a line longer than we were willing to endure so we picked up Fast Passes. The return wasn’t until mid-afternoon at the time we’d be at the Mandara Spa, so we pocketed the FPs to use when we returned this evening for Fantasmic. We only had to stand a few minutes in line to do Buzz Lightyear’s Astro Blasters. Exiting the ride, we strolled though the Little Green Men Store Command (gift shop) and crossed the walkway to Star Tours. The wait wasn’t too long and we were on and off in short order. It seemed like a good time for a shopping break, so out of Tomorrowland and back to Main Street we went, stopping at an ice cream cart for Sharon to get an ice cream sandwich and me to get a Mickey bar.

Shopping today had a purpose--no random meandering this day. We were on our way to Disney Clothiers. I’d promised to pick up three long sleeved dress shirts (light blue in color with a small Mickey appliqué on the pocket) for my friend Sandy who wanted them for her husband. Matthew is a great Disney fan and though he is obliged to wear a suit and tie to work every day, Mickey is always under his jacket, next to his heart. Unfortunately, since the Disney Stores only carry resort wear for adults these days, the only place Matthew can find new dress shirts for his wardrobe is on Main Street in Disneyland or Magic Kingdom , so when it’s between Disney trips for them Sandy asks friends who are going to pick up what needs replacing. Since our shopping list was so specific, it didn’t take long to complete our task and we walked out of the store discussing the dilemma we suddenly had. If I have to face a dilemma this is the kind I prefer—what do with a bit of extra time at Disneyland?! We had about an hour and a half before we needed to be at the spa. It didn’t seem to be quite enough time to park hop to DCA and do much and still have time to get back to the hotel to clean up a bit before the spa. On the other hand, it seemed like entirely too much time to squander at the hotel just getting ready for the spa appointment.

Part 2 continues immediately. . .

 

[SusanEllen]

Day Five, Part 2

We hadn’t made it to the Paradise Pier section of DCA on Wednesday other than the ride through on the segways and there was one ride in Paradise Pier that I’d promised I’d do. When we were here in 2005 India and Georgia Stringer and I rode the Orange Stinger and renamed it the Orange Stringer. I told them I’d ride it this time in their honor. Sharon was game for parkhopping for just one ride so off we went, quickly crossing the narrow expanse that separates Disneyland and California Adventure, hustling through the front of DCA, slowing for nothing until we reached the Orange Stringer. Disneyland’s crowds had been thickening as the day went on, but DCA’s walkways were practically deserted. As we approached the Stringer we saw there was no waiting line at all. There were, however, a couple of guests talking with a Cast Member at the bottom of the staircase. In order to get to the ride that’s inside the big orange you have to climb three or four dozen stairs arranged nearly ladder-like in an extreme incline. As Sharon and I trudged up the steps we could hear some of the conversation between the CM and the guests, most definitely hearing the words “open” and “Toy Story” so as soon as we made it to the top we asked the CM supervising the loading of the ride if Toy Story was indeed open today. He was happy to tell us yes and before he started the ride, he announced to all of us sitting in the Stringer swings that Toy Story Midway Mania had just opened moments ago and would be running for the remainder of the day. We were cautioned that if we wanted to give it a try, we’d need to do it this afternoon or we would have to wait until the official opening the following Tuesday (two days after we departed). He repeated his announcement emphasizing the ride would NOT be running over the weekend. What great luck and we owed it all to India and Georgia. If we hadn’t been on a mission to ride the Orange Stringer we’d never have bothered to switch parks that afternoon.

Approaching the Orange Stringer with Paradise Pier Hotel in the background.

Inside the big orange Orange.

You can bet that early in the week we’d asked about a soft opening for TSMM and when told that the only one planned was for annual passholders, we’d resigned ourselves to having to add it to our Next Time We’re Here list. So, we were nearly beside ourselves with glee. Here was another great surprise that, like the breakfast at Steakhouse 55, had come out of the blue. Immediately we reprioritized and decided we could spend a little more time in the park and somehow we'd manage to clean up a bit at the spa before our appointment. So off we ran to Toy Story. We had to stand in line for about half an hour but we didn’t care—we were getting on Toy Story! Standing in line gave us time to take it all in and to congratulate ourselves on our good fortune. Sharon was thrilled that she could now tell friends back home who’d gotten to attend the annual passholders opening that she’d ridden, too. As David explained the ride so well in his recent Way Out West trip report, I will refer you to that and only add some photos we snapped.

Mr. Potato Head makes a great barker. He was making wisecracks about people standing in the queue.

The ride vehicle is double-sided allowing games to be projected on both sides of the track.

Decorations that are three dimensional.

My attempt to capture a 3-D projection. It might work with 3-D glasses, so if you have a pair . . .

Since we’d abandoned the idea of going back to the hotel before going to the spa we decided we ought to do California Screamin’ while we were here. Take a look at the next photo to see how few steps were required to get from Toy Story to Screamin’.

We’d really cut it close, doing the extra rides and so as soon as we were off Screamin’ we were running toward the front of the park to the Grand Californian entrance. We rushed through the spa door at 1 o’clock (the appointment time) and so the quick showers we took actually cut into our treatment time (Very expensive showers! For that reason, also very quick ones!!) There was a little confusion about the therapy I’d booked. I’d asked for the hot stone aroma therapy, the same one I’d had at the Mandara at the Dolphin at WDW. It turns out that these aren’t standardized treatments and here at the Grand Californian Mandara there was going to be hot stones only and no massage. My tired body had been looking forward along with me to this massage, so this was rather disappointing news. I asked if I could please switch to the therapy that Sharon had chosen, a Balinese massage (a combo of several forms of massage) with an extra half hour (because my hot stone was longer and we’d be done at the same time) and was told sure I could have that. The Balinese with extra time took the same amount of time and cost the same as the Hot Stone therapy. Then when I told my therapist that the WDW Mandara’s version of hot stone aroma therapy included both the hot stones and the massage, she very obligingly said she could do that, too—she already had the stones ready in our room. It was a lovely and relaxing massage and 80 minutes later I met Sharon in the dressing room where she reported that she, too, had had a great massage. We showered again, this time using more of the spa amenities, washing and drying our hair. It was after 3 when we moved languorously from the dressing room to the reception area to pay for our spa experience. And here’s where Friday the 13th caught up with me and I ran into the day’s only unpleasant surprise. When the bills were handed over, mine was $40 more than Sharon’s. You’re probably already ahead of me reading this now, but I was so laid back and sanguine at that point that it didn’t register for a minute just what had happened. I was being charged an extra fee for the hot stones. It only flickered through my mind that I should protest this as I thought my therapist had agreed to do the therapy as it was done at the Dolphin Mandara. However, I realized right away that any confrontation, no matter the outcome, would be counterproductive to the purpose of massage therapy, so I quietly paid the whole amount. In retrospect I believe that I also may have quietly accepted the additional charge as a sort of Liberal Guilt Penalty. The children at my school are poor and the cost of that spa treatment—the original price or the one with the extra charge—would have bought groceries for a sizable family for a couple of weeks. So, I guess in a way, I felt I deserved to pay for my Hedonistic ways. And believe me, I did!

It was now 4 o’clock and it seemed like it might be a good time to have an early dinner before leaving the park. We had freed ourselves of the need to work around a dinner reservation time this evening when we cancelled the Steakhouse 55 PS, but now we needed to find some place that could feed us as walk-ups. Neither of us had eaten at Wine Country Trattoria so we decided to give it a try. We were given a choice of being seated at a table inside or on the terrace. As it was approaching the hottest part of the day, we chose inside and were seated in about 10 minutes. The restaurant is attractively decorated yet with a casual feel to it. Our server was helpful in explaining menu items and attentive to our needs without making us feel we were being rushed. We ordered entrees and side orders that we could share, creating impromptu tapas out of vegetable lasagna, a chicken Panini, a salad, and a bowl of soup. We said no to the dessert cart as we had our Fantasmic Dessert Buffet ahead of us this night.

From the Trattoria we circled around to Sunshine Plaza where we stopped to watch the Pixar Play Parade again before continuing to the Golden State area and the ride we intended all along to do between the spa and returning to the hotel to get cleaned up and dressed for the evening—Grizzly River Run. We’d both ridden this one on previous trips and we both knew there’s no way to avoid getting soaking wet. I believe that everyone in our raft ended up as wet as wet can be but somehow the fabric of my capris when wet just looked extraordinarily wet. They clung to me is such a way that not only was Sharon dying laughing at me as she climbed the stairs behind me as we exited the ride, the couple who had been in our raft, and to that point very polite, were laughing very loudly, too. Good thing I like being the center of attention no matter the reason!

Grizzly Peak shot in an early morning haze. Blue sky backdrop is part of the Hollywood Pictures Backlot.

Sharon had a chance to hug Mr. Incredible after the parade. Mr. I runs a close second to Beast in Sharon's affection for Disney men.

We sloshed back through the Grand Californian lobby as quickly as possible so that we'd be gone by the time people noticed the trail of river water that I was dripping with every step I took and back across the street to the Paradise Pier Hotel 12 hours after our day had begun when the noisy Cast Members woke us. A lot had happened already but we still had another 6 hours to go before we planned to call it a day. We put our feet up for a bit, then used hair dryers for the second (third?) time today and pulled ourselves back together for a return to Disneyland. We moseyed down Main Street looking in shops along the way and on to Tomorrowland to cash in our Space Mountain Fast Passes. We decided we should try for a shorter standby line at Indiana Jones by riding during the fireworks, an idea that worked out as we nearly walked on. Watching the Remember . . Dreams Come True fireworks from a single spot all the way through just didn’t happen this trip. We did see and hear parts of the show from various places over the course of several nights.

Because we had tickets for the 10:30 Fantasmic Dessert Buffet seating we didn’t have to give up any time to stake out a viewing spot, but we did have to allow for making our way through the 9:25 fireworks crowd and the people who were rushing to the Rivers of America at the last minute to search for a Fantasmic spot. We were seated in an excellent place directly across from center stage (the stage is on Tom Sawyer Island).

[As you probably know whether you’ve seen the show in California or not, Fantasmic at Disneyland is staged on the Rivers of America rather than in a specially built, dedicated venue as it is at WDW. There is no amphitheater with seating for all the audience. The Disneyland show was conceived as an event to be watched like the fireworks. Having a place to sit is almost accidental—at least it was until the Company thought of another revenue stream with the Fantasmic Dessert Buffet. The Stringers and I enjoyed the premium Fantasmic viewing spot when we sat on the balcony of what is now the Dream Suite. The Imagineers must have been on that balcony when they choreographed the show, but the balcony is no longer available for the Dessert Buffet. I suppose the lucky family who’s staying there on any given night might object to a couple of dozen people tramping through their apartment to get to the balcony for the twice a night showing of Fantasmic.]

Our drink order was taken and our dessert box was served and what wonderful treats—delicious little cakes and tarts, cheeses, grapes, truffles, and a molded sugar spoon to stir our coffee or tea with Sorcerer Mickey embossed on the tip of the handle. I’d guess that Scott and I watched Fantasmic at least a dozen times without the lovely perks of dessert buffet seating (before such a thing was offered) and we always had a marvelous time (though we were squashed by the crowds a couple of times). I know, though, that he would have very much liked this addition to his beloved Fantasmic. After the show (and all that sugar) we certainly felt up to doing everything we could get to before midnight park closing. This amounted to another ride through the Haunted Mansion which was just steps away from our Fantasmic seats, this vacation's second ride on Pirates also only a few steps away, then on to finally ride Splash Mountain where I clutched with a death grip the dessert box that held the few treats I couldn’t quite manage to eat during the show. I’ve ridden Splash enough times to know that sitting in the front of the log (single file at Disneyland’s Splash) I was going to get very wet, so I’m not sure what I thought could be accomplished by wedging the dessert box between my knees and spreading the thin fabric of my sundress across it. Luckily the gallons of water that washed over me and the desserts beaded on the lid of the plastic box so that the only thing about me that was dry when I climbed out of that log were the little desserts safely tucked in their box.

Now I’m going to tell you the final surprise of the day and one that delighted us as much as any of the others. As we made our way down the hall from the get off place for Splash we heard some yelling, “Hello. Hi. Hello.” We turned to see coming down the hall, dripping wet, too, the lovely young couple that we’d spent time with in the Nemo queue this morning (14 hours ago). With thousands of people in the park even at that late hour and with hundreds of places any of us could have been, we had managed to finish the day at the same spot with these charming people. They thanked us for the information we’d given them in such a hurry this morning and for our advice about what to be sure to do. They told us that they’d done everything on our too good to miss list. They had taken a short break during the late afternoon so that they could come back and stay until midnight, something they said they’d had no intention to do when we they entered the park this morning. While back at their hotel they had convinced another young man who’d been at the conference with them to come along for the evening and they’d all been having so much fun, they’d decided they had to make a trip back to Anaheim soon and give Disneyland the time it deserved. Sharon and I were so proud of them and we told them so. They asked if they could take a photo of us, which was so sweet. It wasn’t until we’d parted ways that I realized I should have taken a picture of them. It’s okay, though. I can still remember their smiles.

 

[SusanEllen]

Day Six, Saturday, June 14th

[If you’re given to rating the days of your vacation then by definition one of the days will be the worst. Our worst was the sixth day. We just couldn’t get traction to do anything—get started, get on a ride, anything! Of course, “worst” is a relative term and when the days being considered are all Disney days then the rule applies that your worst day at Disney beats most days anywhere else.}

Yesterday was an extraordinarily productive day—and another long one. It started at 6AM when we were awakened by the CMs picketing in front of the Paradise Pier Hotel and it ended sometime after midnight when we rode the Disneyland Railroad from New Orleans Square to Main Street, with me still clutching the remains of the Fantasmic dessert buffet and both of us dripping Splash Mountain river water from the last ride of the day. In between a lot had been packed—an unexpected breakfast at Steakhouse 55, Mickey’s Toon Town Morning Madness, lots of rides in both parks, a couple of relaxing blissful hours at the Mandara Spa, dinner at Wine Country Trattoria, and Fantasmic. That busy day was on the heels of the three very full days that had come before it. With no early morning tour or event today we decided we could take our time about getting ready and out the door. Ultimately I don’t think it mattered much when we got to the parks on this Saturday of Father’s Day weekend. It was inevitable that the crowds were going to be the biggest and most unrelenting of the week. Coupled with this being a holiday weekend was the fact that every Saturday and Sunday are as a rule of thumb busier at Disneyland than any day Monday through Friday. If you’ve been there or read about this as a difference from the guest counts at WDW, you already know that the California Disney parks are still regarded by tens of millions of Californians as their premium “day park” and many passholders and area residents come regularly on weekends. Then consider that the term “Disneyland Dad” entered the language a half century ago to denote the situation where a non-custodial father takes his kids to Disneyland during his precious visitation time. So the equation adds up this way:
Usual weekend crowds + Father’s Day + Disneyland Dads + Area schools finally turned out for summer break = Unbelievably dense crowds. Many of the people in these crowds were not going to be taking any breaks during the day because they’d arrived after an hour or two (or three) drive and had the same drive facing them when they left the parks at the end of the day so, by golly, they were going to stand in line for however long it took to see or do whatever was on their list. When we entered Disneyland just before 11 we immediately understood that this was going to be a day very different from the others we’d enjoyed all week. The ride wait times board showed that every corner of the park was already packed with people willing to stand in lines an hour long (or longer). It was at this point we decided that an early lunch might be a good idea and perhaps we could get in somewhere while all those people were standing in line. So off we went in the direction of the Blue Bayou.

We stopped in front of the castle long enough for a couple of Photo Pass shots, something we’d been forgetting to do since the handful of pictures taken on our first day. Guess in how many of the precious few photo taken I had my eyes closed. Matt, your guess won't count.

Though Blue Bayou has lots of sentimental connections for me, it hadn’t made it on our list of restaurants to be booked ahead of time, leaving dining there this trip a bit to chance. When we turned onto Royal Street we could see a long line whose standby time had not been listed on the board on Main Street—the one in front of the Blue Bayou. Heart in throat we approached the podium thinking there’s no way we’re getting in here any time soon. As we got closer we suddenly realized that the long line led to the door of the Club 33 not the Blue Bayou podium only a few feet apart. The Blue Bayou hostess took our names and told us that if we would wait in the area until seating began at 11:30 (only a few minutes away) we could probably get a table fairly quickly as there were usually a number of no-show PSs. We did a tiny bit of window shopping in the nearby New Orleans Square shops, but didn’t want to stray too far from the Blue Bayou podium and the kind CM we hoped would be calling our names. Standing just next to the line of thirty or so people waiting for the Club 33 door to open, Sharon couldn’t resist asking some of them if they’d be willing to let us have their reservation. Their answer (“No.” spoken with a laugh) was not a surprise. One man added that Disney did a background search on guests who were using a member’s privilege to dine at Club 33. For a second that seemed plausible—until he laughed. There were several children in the line and a couple babies being carried and we couldn’t help thinking that the Club 33 experience would surely be wasted on them. They’d probably be happier with a hot dog and a root beer (which we would gladly buy for them). How cruelly unfair Life can be sometimes! Anyway, the Blue Bayou opened a little early and by 11:30 we were seated at a table under the lanterns on that lovely Louisiana patio where it’s always dusk. We ordered crab cakes and a Monte Cristo sandwich to share (knowing that an entire sandwich is a ridiculously large amount of food for one person). Both were very good. The crab cakes were so much better than the ones I’d had last trip here with the Stringers. Perhaps it helped that these cakes were the very first of the day. We sat in the cool “night” air by the Bayou, listening to the tree frogs and cicadas, and watching the boats drift by on their way to an encounter with pirates.

What followed that lovely lunch is a blur of several frustrating hours as we tried to find a ride that had a reasonable standby line or was still issuing Fast Passes. Incredibly we did not ride a single ride that afternoon. Wasn’t it fortunate that we’d been able to do so many things on all our other days? I couldn’t help thinking what a different (and horrible) experience a trip to Disneyland would have been if we’d been here for a single day and the day had been this one! I suppose a day like this wouldn’t be quite so bad for an annual passholder who lived close by and could drop in for a few hours whenever they wanted (which apparently many Orange County/LA residents do). We finally gave up our quest for a ride and made our way to the special viewing place designated in our vacation package. We’d been directed to the Parade of Dreams launch point, the gate next to It’s a Small World. Had the giant drapes covering most of the Small World buildings (still decorated with lots of gold from the 50th anniversary) not been in place this would have been an excellent spot to take really pretty close up pictures of the parade. As it was, all of the many pictures we both took were slightly spoiled. I refer you to the gorgeous parade photos that David took and included in his Way Out West report for a look at the beautiful parade we saw that afternoon. We did have a pleasant visit with two area women, sisters-in-law, who had managed to get to Disneyland without any children in tow. One of the women had to convince the other that it was all right to come to Disneyland without kids. The reluctant lady was now a convert. She had decided that this place was great without kids. Sharon and I agreed.

Looking at how the crowd just didn’t thin at all after the parade passed we decided the only ride we were going to take that day was the monorail out of the park. We got on at the Tomorrowland station, our destination Downtown Disney.

We made a half-hearted stab at shopping but steadily worked our way back to the hotel. We had an hour or so to relax—and we actually needed that break, perhaps more than any other day so far. Surprisingly, a day not doing much (though trying very hard) was as tiring as the days we’d gotten lots done—in a way more tiring since we didn’t have the rush of energy we’d get when things were going our way.

Our one hope for salvaging this lack luster day was our planned rendezvous with my dear friend Jennifer and her boyfriend Dan who were driving from Los Angeles to have dinner with us at Ralph Brennan’s Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney. Because of their busy schedules we were unable to get them for a day in the parks and had to settle for a dinner visit. Jenny and Dan had joined us at the Napa Rose a few years back when the Stringers were here. They were both still undergraduates at the University of Southern California back then. Now Dan is a graduate student working on his next degree and doing research in one of the USC science departments and Jennifer is in law school at Pepperdine University. (Pepperdine is in Malibu! It’s “this” close to the Pacific. Why couldn’t I have gone to school in Malibu?! Oh, yes, now I remember—lack of aptitude, grade point, and scholarship money.) Jenny and I had e-mailed about our dinner arrangements for some time before this trip and all four of us were excited about eating at Jazz Kitchen. Afraid our expectations were too high and our memories of the superior food and service of the Napa Rose so strong that Jazz Kitchen suffered by comparison. Actually, I think that even without the Napa Rose benchmark, Jazz Kitchen wouldn’t have fared well in our opinions.

[The restaurant has the look of a New Orleans’ Bourbon Street restaurant, but the architect or the builder (or somebody!) didn’t factor in the number of people to be seated in this restaurant with all its hard surfaces and nothing much to absorb sound and we were only a few steps into the interior courtyard dining room when we knew we were in for a noisy evening. We followed the hostess to the upstairs dining room which didn’t seem any quieter than the courtyard/bar area. To be generous, I should consider that perhaps the intention was to create a party atmosphere with all that noise, but such a thing didn’t suit our purpose which was to use this dinner to catch up on what everyone had been doing. We struggled to hear one another and we certainly didn’t linger long after dinner was over. And perhaps the high noise level is intentional to discourage a two hour meal and to insure quicker turning of the tables. At those prices though (less than but close enough to Napa Rose prices) we should have been allowed a more leisurely meal. In fact they would have gotten another fifty or sixty dollars out of us if we’d had stuck around for dessert. The poor dinner ambience was enough to scuttle my review of this restaurant, but I’m not stopping with that. The service was abysmal. Our server was perfunctory and displayed no interest in doing her job well or helping us. She assured us that the $25 appetizer platter could have something left off and another thing on the dish doubled to replace it. When it was delivered to the table the plate had on it exactly what was described on the menu. We might have mentioned this to her and asked for a correction, but we didn’t see her again until after our entrees were served. She really didn’t take care of us and I have to wonder now, looking at the receipt from the dinner, why I felt it was necessary to give her a 22% tip. Afraid this bad review doesn’t stop with poor ambience and poor service. The food was not the wonderful stuff indicated by the overblown descriptions on the website and the menu. Some of the food brought to us was mediocre, some was just plain awful. I have no doubt that we would have gotten better food (far better) at any T.G.I.Friday’s in the country and at a third the cost. So, if I were posting a grade card for Ralph Brennan’s Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney in Anaheim, California (and I guess I am) it would be: Ambience--F (failing); Service--D (not quite failing because I think waiting tables, even when it’s done badly, is very hard work); and Food—C-.]

We left the restaurant after being there barely an hour and for the first time since meeting Jenny and Dan this evening we were able to visit without shouting to be heard. We walked up and down the length of DTD in the balmy California summer night for the next two hours sharing news and telling tales. Jenny and Dan are great company, smart and witty. Sharon, meeting them for the first time this evening, liked them so much she invited them to her home for a visit. We talked with enthusiasm about our adventures this week and Jenny and Dan asked lots of questions. They were especially intrigued by the idea of a segway tour. They decided they needed to find a day in their busy schedules when they could get back here and have some of the fun Sharon and I'd been having. Finally, but too soon, they gave us hugs and left us.

We wandered into World of Disney for some serious nearly last minute gift and souvenir shopping.

The day had unfolded in ways we wouldn’t have guessed when it started. We ended up with a very short list of what had been accomplished today. On the other hand we had a fairly long list of things we had tried to do with little or no success. We had spent a young fortune on a restaurant that had disappointed us. But it was a fabulous day anyway because we had been with dear friends. And after all is said and done, your worst day at Disney beats most days anywhere else.

 

[SusanEllen]

Day Seven, Sunday, June 15th

[As always must happen, the last day of vacation arrived. I didn’t have expectations of doing much in the few hours that I knew would fly by before the shuttle picked us up to take us to the airport. I thought at best we would have an hour or so in one of the parks, just a quick trip to get a little use out of the last day on our passes, but I was wrong. We rode an astonishing number of rides that had not yet been ridden this trip and explored a section of Disneyland that I’d never seen on any trip—and we did it all in a park day that only lasted for us until noon. Disneyland called it a Magic Morning. It was well named.]

We’d had a week of long days filled with almost more fun than two people could handle, but we knew there was still more fun to be had and agreed that our remaining time shouldn’t be wasted on sleeping and that we could rest once we were back home. To say that Sharon was a willing co-conspirator this entire trip doesn’t do her justice. She was simply unstoppable and in fact, is the one who suggested the ambitious plan for our last day. She was formulating it as we wearily walked back to the hotel last night at the end of the extraordinarily crowded Father’s Day Saturday that had proved so unproductive. Sunday was a Magic Morning and Disneyland opened at 7. Sharon suggested that we have everything packed before going to bed; that we set the alarm for a time early enough to allow us to be dressed, out the door, and at bell services desk to drop off our bags by 6:30. Amazingly, we managed this. Sharon grabbed a coffee from the coffee shop in the lobby and we were out the door. After years (and years) of visiting Disney parks without ever arriving before a gate opened, here I was once again this trip standing in the early morning waiting for the chance to be one of the first of the day to walk along Main Street. As crowded as Disneyland had been the day before we weren’t sure what to expect and were pleasantly surprised to find rides weren’t full and lines were short if they existed at all. There were obviously fewer people here—lots fewer. Apparently the families celebrating Father’s Day had all come yesterday. Perhaps more would be here later, after Church or letting Dad sleep in a bit, but for now the park was relatively empty—an unexpected turn of events for a weekend.

Sharon and I stepped through the Castle to find we had Fantasyland nearly to ourselves.

Realizing this would be our best opportunity to get on Nemo without a long wait, we headed straight to the submarine lagoon (on the border between Fantasyland and Tomorrowland) where we walked right up to the loading dock and were seated in our submarine—total wait time=two minutes.

Across the walkway we went to Matterhorn where again we walked on.

We moved from ride to ride in Fantasyland with no need to backtrack or adjust the plan because of a long standby line. We walked on Alice in Wonderland, the tea cups at the Mad Tea Party, and the boats of Storybook Land. Peter Pan did make us wait for three or four minutes, but Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and Snow White’s Scary Adventure let us amble along the queues and hop on.

That's Matterhorn in the background--another example of how close things are in this cozy little park.

We finished our run through Fantasyland with a ride on King Arthur’s Carrousel. Having the luxury of time afforded us because there was no long line of merry-go-round riders waiting for us to move a little faster, we were able to take several photos of the special carrousel horse Jingles pointed out to us by our guide during the Walt’s Footsteps tour.

Jingles, the carrousel's lead horse (and reportedly most popular horse), was "goldenized" for Disneyland's 50th anniversary. Just this past April Jingles was dedicated in Julie Andrews' honor for her service as honorary ambassor of the 50th celebration. You can see her initials and a golden silhouette of her Mary Poppins character on the saddle.

We hadn’t been in the park for two hours yet and we’d ridden Nemo and eight Fantasyland rides all of which usually have long (or very long) standby lines and not one of which has Fast Pass. Sharon pronounced this Disneyland at the crack of dawn foray “The best way to go!!!” and I agreed and suddenly with everything going our way again the frustrating disappointments of yesterday were lifted from us replaced by a comforting feeling that, though we were approaching our final hours of this fabulous trip, once again all was right with the world.

Through the Castle, skirting the Hub, we made a beeline for Indiana Jones. The standby line showed 10 minutes, a remarkably short wait time worthy of being photographed.

We moved quickly through the maze that is the gorgeous Indy queue and would have been in our jeep in less than 10 minutes, except for a break down which caused a short delay. Even so we were loaded and bouncing through our adventure in far less time than usual. Getting on and off rides and getting from place to place was so easy in this uncrowded Disneyland. We’d certainly had fun throughout the busy week, but this morning without the need to maneuver through densely packed park crowds or to be at a tour start point or the door of a restaurant at an assigned time, we moseyed from Land to Land choosing whatever rides caught our fancy and had a great time. It was--and here's a word I don't often associate with a Disney trip--relaxing. Without being surrounded by the collective energy of thousands of guests bustling about with their own frantic agendas, we could relax and enjoy this place in a way so different from the usual experience, we could feel the difference.

Sharon has fond memories of chasing around Tom Sawyer Island with her brother and cousins on many trips here when they were little kids. It had been years since she’d been on the island and I’d never been there. We headed for the loading dock for the river barges, stopping just long enough to pick up a proper park breakfast of popcorn and churros. Actually, Sharon had her popcorn in hand and had wandered down to the dock while I was still in the churro line. Here’s a way to illustrate just how laid back the morning was: When Sharon declined the CM’s offer to help her board the barge because he was ready to cast off, she thanked him but said she was waiting for me to arrive from my churro mission and we’d catch the next barge. That’s okay, he said. We can wait for her—and they did! The other guests on the barge (there were just four) were apparently in relaxed mode, too, and even though I was the cause for a delay, they greeted me pleasantly as I boarded.

The island has had a little makeover in recent times—things have not so much been changed as renamed. Though called Tom Sawyer Island from its beginning I don’t think there was ever any Disney connection to the character Tom Sawyer (except possibly Walt’s appreciation of Tom’s adventurous spirit) until the Disney live action movie Tom and Huck that came out in the mid ‘90’s, forty years after the first explorer set foot on the island. Following the success of the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy the island was renamed Pirate’s Lair on Tom Sawyer Island and now honors a curious combination of Disney movie characters. The caves and paths that Sharon remembers from her childhood are as they always were except for the new signage.

We covered the island locating the things that Sharon remembered so well. We managed to make it through the cave maze but not without me bumping my head very hard when I stood up in an area where the ceiling clearance was just short of 5 feet and 1inch!

We covered the entire island, tried to peek through the gates of the CM only bit that is no doubt the storage place for the Fantasmic props, and stood on the stage just where Mickey stands during Fantasmic. It was interesting and slightly disorienting to view New Orleans Square, the Haunted Mansion, and Splash Mountain from an entirely new perspective.

Sharon said there was one thing on the island that she remembered that she most definitely wouldn't do again--the pontoon bridge. When she was a little girl she had been lured out onto the bridge by her brother and cousins and then found herself stuck in the middle afraid to move for fear the swaying bridge would dump her in the water--but she thought I should try it! The crossing took less courage than posting this photo Sharon snapped of me bent over clutching the hand ropes. Not the most flattering angle for a photo!

On another nearly empty barge we were carried back to the mainland and here’s when we hit a snag in an otherwise idyllic morning. We tried to see the Indiana Jones interactive show that’s being staged this summer in the old Aladdin’s Oasis dinner theater between the Adventureland gate and the Jungle Cruise. We’d been in line for a few minutes when two CMs came out to tell us that the small theater was full and we should come back twenty minutes before the next performance to insure getting in. Doing some quick math we decided that we had just exactly enough time to find brunch/lunch, to make it back for the next show (including that 20 minutes), to watch the show, and get back to the Paradise Pier Hotel in time (just!) for the shuttle taking us to the airport. So, off we moved at the fastest clip all morning to the Carnation Café on Main Street only a few minutes away. Unfortunately, other guests had decided this was the time to stop for a meal, too, and the thirty minute wait time looked likely to be accurate. So, off we tromped deeper into the park hoping that the crowd that was just starting to swell as midday approached hadn’t moved too far beyond Main Street yet. But they had. The line out the door of the River Belle Terrace in Frontierland was even more discouraging than the one we’d seen at Carnation Café. Backtracking through Adventureland to size up our possibilities of getting in the next Indy show we managed to talk some sense into ourselves. We’d finally fallen prey to “last minute panic” and were no longer able to deny that our time in Disneyland was just about over for this trip. So we turned away from the Indiana Jones show queue, heading toward Main Street.

Our revamped plan was to return to the hotel a little earlier than we’d thought we would originally and have a quick lunch at the hotel’s grill or the coffee shop. This plan gave us a little more time to spend in Disneyland so we decided to end this trip as we’d begun it, shopping on Main Street. Being mindful that whatever we bought now would have to be stuffed into already bulging luggage didn’t seem to slow us down much and we collected several large shopping bags between us. Out the gate, through DTD and one last time through the Grand Californian lobby, we arrived at the hotel with just enough time to collect our suitcases and repack them while waiting for the coffee shop to make our salads—and be ready for the shuttle that picked us up right on time.

Our driver was talkative and friendly. He was working on Father’s Day because he had five kids to support. He asked us about our vacation, our work, and our politics. When he realized that he was going to be dropping us off at different terminal buildings and that I had a departure time two hours after Sharon’s he devised a plan for us that involved me checking my bags, then leaving my terminal and working my way to Sharon’s then returning to my building after her plane took off. He gave me detailed instructions for getting from one building to the other. He was so earnest and enthusiastic about helping us and seemed uneasy at the thought of us waiting for our planes by ourselves, that I didn’t have the heart to tell him I have recently been regarded as somewhat of a security risk. I didn’t even want to think what would happen to me if I dropped off my luggage and then tried to leave the building!

I thanked the driver for his great advice, hugged Sharon goodbye with promises to talk soon, and wrestled my luggage through the airport doors. I was directed to join a rather full zigzag and smiled that this seemed an altogether appropriate way to end a Disney vacation. Directly ahead of me there was a little family, a dad, mom, and two pre-teen daughters. We chatted companionably as our line moved along, then switched back when we came to the turn in the rope-lined lane. Now moving in the opposite direction we began to pass a new group of people and a woman in that lane looked at me and said, “I think I can guess where you’ve been!” [ I should explain that I was wearing an ankle length dress that was covered with dozens of smiling Mickey faces, Mickey earrings, and Mickey watch. The fabric of my purse was a Mickey print. Also hanging from my arm was a large black tote bag decorated with Mickey icons and I was dragging along behind me my Mickey and Minnie luggage with Mickey icon luggage tags dangling.] “I’ll bet you can,” I said. A friendly exchange like that between people caught in an airport security line isn’t all that surprising, however this woman continued with an unexpected enthusiasm. “How long were you there?” she asked. I told her I’d spent a week at Disneyland and then for some reason (Okay--the reason is I talk too much!) I went on to tell her that I used to make an annual Disneyland pilgrimage with my late husband, but that it had been three years since I’d been back. Because I’d been away so long I made this an exclusively Disneyland trip and that we had stayed at the Resort the entire week. Then she became really animated and said, “Oh, and there’ve been so many new things since you were there last!” I told her how I’d ridden the submarines 48 years ago and what fun it was to ride them again this trip. Now she was bouncing with glee as she said, “You know, they’re the same submarines?!” Then all of us in the line shuffled forward a few steps and she moved east while I moved west and the gentleman behind me picked up the conversation with her. The woman next in line who was obviously traveling with the lady I’d been speaking to smiled and said something to me in a quiet voice. I leaned toward her and said, “Sorry, I have a little trouble hearing sometimes.” She leaned in and cutting her eyes toward her companion she told me, “She’s the assistant to the Vice President of Disneyland.” Oh my word! I think I made her day.

Once clear of this initial zigzag it was on to the check your luggage step and then the walk through the screener with your shoes off where I was treated to another extended search and pat down in a little glass room where I could watch all the other less threatening passengers file by on their way to their gates. This time one of the guards attached a holographic sticker to the back of my boarding pass and sternly advised me not to lose that sticker or I wouldn’t be allowed on the plane. It was at that point I knew for sure it would be a very bad idea indeed to try to leave this building in a quest to find Sharon’s terminal. So with as much dignity as I could muster I stepped out of the glass security search cubicle and walked the long hallways, turning as the signs indicated, until I reached my gate, the last gate on the concourse. Because we’d timed the shuttle for Sharon’s flight, even with the extra zigzag and my special security screening, I arrived at the gate nearly three hours early. I’ve never seen such an empty airport. It’s a good thing I wasn’t up to something evil because for the next couple of hours I was totally alone, the ONLY person in this end of the terminal.

I used the time to catch my breath, reorganize my carry-on bag, and think about the incredible week just past. I started the decompression process necessary when moving from the world designed by Disney to the other world, the one back home. I had the "lounge" to myself until about 45 minutes before the flight when people began to drift in and fill some of the chairs around me. Boarding began on time. Once again it was a forty (or so) passenger jet. My seat was 1A, the very first seat in the small jet, a single seat directly across the aisle from the galley. No first class seating on this jet, but first class leg room for me here in the front--and an upclose view of the business of flying. I heard the conversation of the pilots until the cockpit door closed just before take-off. They were only about 8 feet away. 1A was at the same time--a solo/aisle/window seat. The view of Southern California in the late afternoon summer sun was spectacular. We seemed to be flying closer than usual to the earth or maybe it was just that there was no cloud cover to block the view of the densely built areas (marked by endless suburbs, highways, and greenery) that immediately gave way to the desert just beyond the urban sprawl. Normally on a flight I would watch the ground for awhile and then when we climbed above the clouds I would open my book and read the rest of the way home, but this time we kept the ground in sight and I never opened my book for the entire three hour flight. I watched the terrain change as we flew across the California, Arizona, and New Mexico deserts, fascinated by my bird's eye view of the river valleys that were green slashes in the red earth and the buff colored sand. I couldn't believe how enormous and how long the cracks in the earth were that I knew were marked as canyons and arroyos and gulchs on maps for people traveling on the ground. As we traveled east we moved through three time zones leaving a beautiful California day behind us as we hurtled toward an Oklahoma night. Somewhere over the panhandles of Texas and Oklahoma the earth turned green below us just about the time the sky began to darken. The last half hour of the flight was though a clear night sky. This was the last ride of the vacation and taking nothing away from Disney, it was one of the best. The lights of the Tulsa skyline welcomed me home.

It was our pleasure to share our trip with you. Sharon and Susan

 

[travelmel]

Hi!

I'm only through the begining stages (up to your segway tour pin) but I wanted to comment:

American Geisha: I noticed when she was standing at the bottom of the stairs her eyes were definitely glowing. I wonder if she can spit out money like an ATM??

Smells of the bakery after hours: I DID NOT KNOW THAT. See, it's great that you repeated some history cause I learned somethin'

Miss Lily: How totally cool!

Stage from the Old School Walt Disney shows: PIC????

Man I wish they'd bring back Vault Disney or at least SOMETHING of Disney old days.

Your writing is so great. Even if you don't remember stuff your writing on the fly is awesome enough. Oh, and... I LOVE YOUR OUTFIT - the black capri's and cute sweatshirt for Walt's Footsteps Tour. Thanks for posting!

I'm SO out of order but I'll get there!