I blame it on the
hat.
Ben’s hat – to be specific.
 |
| this one. |
And while we’re on
that train (of specifics), Ben is my brother, and he’s been with me here, in
the US of A. Both my brothers (Tim and Ben) were over for the Winter, and
discovered the joys of record breaking wind chills, frozen socks, and churro’s
(for an Australian, what a hard word to pronounce).
Point being, my
wonderful look alikes came for my pReception (fake wedding), which was a
hundred times over perfect, and the four of us (including my dreamy significant
other) had a spectacular four days together – which included being pulled over
by the police, going to the zoo, and watching the Omaha train assistant ferry
their bags on a horse drawn carriage (minus the horse, plus a tractor. Oh
Omaha, you’ve done it again).
Sunday night was the
super (bowl) disappoint, and 3am Monday was our wake up call.
We arrived at the
airport just after 5am, Tim flew back to Australia, and Ben and I – the younger
one – with hat in tow (I’ll get to that in a second) - waited for our 6:22am boarding time.
At 1:30pm we boarded
a plane for Chicago ( we were supposed to be going to Denver 7 hours earlier, two
words: "maintenance issues") and then at 6:30pm, after watching both the sunrise
and the sunset in an airport – we boarded a plane for Orlando, Florida.
 |
| unplanned trip to Chicago. |
And at 10pm we shed
our coats, watched our bag emerge around the baggage claim and waited in the
Disney line; having been awake for 18 hours.
We eventually hopped
onto the happy-happy-complimentary Disney bus, and arrived at our hotel (after
assaulting the check in clerk with my facial expressions, dragging our luggage
a mile through the resort and being up for 22 hours) nearing 1am; with the
promise of magic and joy in the coming, waking hours.
I don’t remember much
– except tipping the content of my duffel bag (saying that word makes me feel
sooooo American) on the floor, being briefly excited about the Disney shaped
shampoo, showering – and then waking up at 8am.
Okay, so Disney All
Stars Movie Resort? Amazing. So many things. Let’s start with the mighty ducks
pool, and move onto the giant Dalmatians in the walkway. Mickey Mouse hovers
over the pool in a night gown (magicians cloak?) and everywhere and everything
is powered by these magic bands you get and wear, which by the way – have your
name on them. It opens your doors,
it let’s you into the parks, it memorizes your finger print. Cool? Cool.
There
is movie tile in the bathrooms, and when you ring the information hotline and
say ‘thank you’ they answer every single time with, ‘oh, but it’s my pleasure’!
There were some
unpleasant things.. like having no option but to eat on site, which led us to
sharing one small meal for dinner between us (hello $9 nuggets) and absolutely
loading up on free-side condiments.
We asked and answered
the question – how many pickles can one customer take, before it’s considered
greedy? A lot, is the answer, by the way. Let’s not get me started on the $9
coffee.
But in all
seriousness, how could we complain? We were at Disney World. We were at a
resort. We were together, on the same continent. We were housed, and fed, and
on vacation, which is as we knew – as we counted our blessings - more then so
much of the world.
Then Disney World! It
was fun.
Different, to how I expected and full, full, full of people. I love adrenaline, and would drink it, if it came in a can. Without sugar. I long for
bigger, higher, faster roller coasters; and in that sense Disney didn’t cut it.
Let’s be real; it’s a place for kids, and make up magic, and that, it is good
at. Kids who loves lines, and musical rides.
Let's be honest, kids like us.
Even though the ‘enchanted
tiki room’ was a less enjoyable experience then shaving my legs with a cheese
grater, it was overall really, really good.
We saw some cool shows, and felt like
tourists. We ate great ice cream, and lined up for too long for a disappointing
photo with Gaston.
And most beautifully, while Omaha was having a snow storm, I
was exposing my never-ever-been-paler legs to the world, and running around
giddy in shorts and a tee shirt. We left when it closed, came home exhausted,
and fell asleep well.
I also embarrassed
Ben by performing my own version of the night time spectacular on the way to
the bus line, which including twirls around palm trees and the theatrical
running across bus bench’s.
The next day was
Hollywood Studios, which turned out to be surprisingly awesome. Two rides in
particular; the tower of terror and the Aerosmith roller coaster.
The shows were
AMAZING. Fantasmic? Fantastic! And
beauty and the beast on stage made my little kid heart very happy.
We got on a boat to
Epcot, for 25 minutes, only to be denied entrance to the park. Apparently we
only had ‘one-park-per-day-passes’.
The entrance man said
this way too quickly, and so we made him say it several times. At first because
we didn’t understand, and then after..
one-park-per-day-passes.
one-park-per-day-passes. one-park-per-day-passes.
Instead, we walked
along the Disney Board walk, swung on the most uncomfortable beach swing of all
time, ate pastries and shared an orange juice. It was bliss.
I then found a
lucky penny. In my shoe. Then Ben, trying to hand it to me, managed to drop it
not only through a crack in the table, but then also, through the crack in the board
walk and into the ocean. Lucky penny?
And so, in three days
– we managed to have a 12 hour flight delay and a useless boat ride.
As it turns out,
getting a bus from Orlando to Miami is harder then it seems.
The only option we
could truly find – that would pick us up from our hotel, and take us to our
hotel – was expensive, and would take 4 hours for a 3 hour trip. But, seeing no
other option we booked the “bus”.
And I use the term “bus”
lightly because at 6am, we found ourselves outside, when a black van pulls up,
with no signage and fully tinted windows.
‘Oh look Ben,’ I
laughed, ‘here’s our bus!’
Two seconds later a
casually dressed Spanish speaking man comes out and calls our name.
‘Oh look Ben,’ I
said, ‘here’s our bus’. I mentioned something along the lines of ‘it’s been
nice knowing you’ as we flung out bags into the back, and took the four – which
ended up being seven – hour trip to Miami.
He got lost, used a GPS
the entire time, made no logical routing and blasted Spanish music. I texted
Luke many a time, making sure at least somebody knew of our whereabouts.
Eventually,
eventually, eventually we were dropped off at our hotel, and unable to check in
– we grabbed a salad from 7/11 and sat down under a palm tree, in what was – we
thought – a nice place for lunch.
We were tired,
irritated, hot and annoyed and it didn’t take 15 minutes before we were
approached by a man.
He wanted our salad,
and we wanted to cry.
We said no, so he
offered to trade us weed for it.
We said no, so he
told us that they have large guns in Miami.
We said no, so he
left us, and we about packed up, and took a taxi home.
An eventual check in,
a taco dinner and a gaze at the b-e-autiful beach soon fixed our Miami misery,
and day two totally redeemed the experience; as we spent the day in the sand
and the waves, my absolute favourite – and we hired inline skates, in an
attempt to kick it like the locals.
Our plane broke, our
boat was useless and our bus was an abduction like scam.
Miami is hilarious.
It really feels like we got on the bus in Florida, and off the bus in Latin
America. It feels like High School, where the cool kids rule the school and
everyone else is a pitiful bystander.
The locals here are
unlike any human creatures I have seen before.
Being ‘buff’, or
toned or muscular isn’t even standard, it’s overwhelming.
There are not just muscles
here, there are body-builders, by the dozens, everywhere.
It’s like a a city
wide tan and muscles convention, where the people on mass don’t work but
instead spend their time working out, and buying super cars.
Every second car is a
BMW, Porsche, Corvette or flashy Mustang. If you’re not in a super car, you’re
on a long board, and if you’re not doing that – then you’re a tourist, being judged
and feeling self conscious.
I felt like everyone
wanted to kill me, all the time – and I saw more body parts in four days then
the past 23 years. The drugs are everywhere, and so are the police.
Saying I was ‘out of
my element’ is an understatement. But getting out of my comfort zone is also my
thing.
We spent our time at
the beach, hiking along the high way to the city, exploring the markets, avoiding
the night life, eating Burger King, watching movies and going to the
everglades.
A tour, which we
booked with a company that doesn’t exist – lied to us about it’s hours, didn’t
provide us with the right passes, but ended up being really, really fun.
We went on an airboat
ride through the awesome, awesome everglades and saw the alligators and went on
a super great city tour.
We had a 12 hour
plane delay. Caught a useless boat. Took a fake “bus” and booked a tour with a
company that doesn’t exist.
Miami.
Where modesty is
keeping your bikini top on.
Where the Burger King
employees have biceps.
Where helmets are for
the weak.
Where tan is white
and beautiful is average.
Where waitresses don’t
wear clothing.
Where people vomit in
the sand.
Where Spanish is
spoken first.
Where weed is traded for salads.
Overall, it wasn't what we expected - but we had a great time.
We laughed a lot. We were together; and it was great. I miss my family, and love them lots.
It was a blessing in the midst of a gloomy season, and I'm so thankful for their generous souls.
But. Ben's hat.
This beanie?
I bought for him in Papua New Guinea.
Papua New Guinea. Do you know how hot it gets in PNG? How hot it stays?... All the time?
Why do they even make beanies?! Exactly.
Second, it was super thin and yet crazy warm.
Made in the land I love, but that has a history of canibalism, tribal wars and witchcraft? I'm telling you.
We were delayed 12 hours there. We booked an abduction van, took a useless boat ride, booked a tour with a company that doesn't exist and oh - did I tell you my flight was delayed 5 hours on the way home?
It's the hat. End of story.
It was great. End of story.
Really, end of story.
