Dear Disneyland,
How do you do the things that you do? How do you transform a family day out into something so much greater than the sum of its parts?
I mean, this was meant to be the ultimate post in the Family Days Out Are a Big Mistake series. And yet…
How do you enchant people enough to want to queue for hours at a time? A wait of an hour in a snaking line of people to have a 30-second flight on a carbon fibre elephant! 110 minutes to sit in a rat!!! And then the rat ride broke down…and yet people didn’t revolt; they – we – just went and stood in a different queue for something else.
I know! It’s crazy! And yet you get us all to do it without complaint. Or at least without outbreaks of violence. And it must be something that you do because the second we were across the threshold there were nearly blows on the shuttle back to the hotel. What spell do you cast?
Because, please, I can’t usually get Noodles to sit still for long enough to eat his lunch, but for you even he waited…and waited…and waited.
Ok, he made a break for it as we queued for Peter Pan’s Flight (thank goodness for fast reactions and hoods on kids’ coats!) but by and large he was the most obedient I’ve seen him. Thank you for that. But can’t you pass on the smallest of tips that I can use in everyday life? Please?
Or maybe it was the combination of not having a clue as to what was going on and repeatedly being put on things that whizzed him around. It would explain the omnipresent look of befuddlement he wore for most of the day.
How do you make us stand outside in the cold (although thankfully this time not the rain) for 12 full hours again without complaint from kids and grown-ups alike? We all felt the chill, Parisian breeze and yet, like Elsa, the cold never bothered us. How do you do that?
Come to think of it, how do you get your visitors to sustain themselves for the length of your days? With children high on adrenalin and parents fraught with making the experience the best it can be, how are there not more meltdowns? Anywhere else families would crash and burn under the pressure of such a (financially/emotionally/physically) highly-charged day out. But with you it keeps on going, the experience one of sustained excitement and anticipation. Even after a 5.30am start and 10 hours on a coach the day before. Even after a late night with excited children. Even after a broken night’s sleep thanks to the hotel fire alarms going off at 3.20 am. It can’t all be down to the croissants snaffled at the breakfast buffet and smuggled into the park.
What exactly do they put in those pancakes? Is it really sugar on top of their waffles? Hmmm.
How do you also transform us all into the biggest kids? How do you make us truly believe that it really is Mickey Mouse or Snow White or any of the other characters we sacrifice our time into waiting for. In our heads we still know it’s just someone in costume, but in our hearts…? That’s a different matter!
And how do you get us to open our wallets so willingly? Our house now resembles one of your stores thanks to the toys and the t-shirts, the costumes and the sweets, every last one an essential purchase at the time. Teflon Man even cracked open his wallet and paid for stuff. It’s a rare trick you managed there indeed!
I can only imagine it must all have something to do with pixie dust.
But however it is you do what you do, thank you. You do it all so very well. I imagine it must be relentless for you to churn so many people through your gates every day, keeping the Disney Magic alive for each and every one. Like your Disney Dreams, you really are spectacular!
Many thanks,
(An absolutely exhausted yet besotted)
GSM xx