So I'm sure you're going to get a bit bored of travel details, but that's the cool thing about blogging-this blog is mine for the travel details, ergo I will unveil them. And since traveling is something that I am deeply, deeply passionate about (along the lines of picking out ingrown hairs, freedom of speech, and the abolishment of bananas) it's something that I take a lot of detail into my head about. I try to remember everything in case someday all I have left are the dusty taste of memories.

It's not completely impossible.

We are now back from our lovely holiday and suffering the jet lag. The holiday was structured thus-two days in LA, four days in the Cook Islands, and then six days in New Zealand. We left for our fifteen day holiday (as we were flying around the international dateline, we lost a few days with just crossing the line and in enduring airplane hell) loaded with only two suitcases and a backpack each. We came home with two heaving suitcases, two boxes, a duffel bag, our backpacks and two carry-ons, but that's another story. I was extremely stressed-up, because here's a secret about me-even though I have been all over the world and driven my way through three over-stamped passports, I am still a nervous flier. I find it stressful and frustrating to say the least, so the start and end of every holiday is always hard. We packed up, got on the airplane (it was all of our first times on Air New Zealand, and for the record, they are excellent. The flight attendants have a sense of humor, there is enough leg room to kick around in (even with the guy in front of you having his seat laid all the way down into your beaver) and the movies on the video-on-demand are to die for.)

So here's part 1-LA. Luckily, we arrived in no time (or so it seemed-a 12 hour flight was relative when we remembered the flights we would have to get home). We walked up the aisle of the plane, headed to the exit ramp'¦and witnessed one of the hardest rainfalls we'd seen in ages. It was as though someone had set off a fire alarm and did a runner over all of LA. Sighing, we picked up our rental car (yet another Hyundai with yet another impotence problem) and two hours later, we'd finally made it from LAX to our bed and breakfast in Pasadena with two passed out kids in the back. We settled in and tried to go to bed.

Only Melissa was beginning to not feel well.

And stunningly, I was having traveler's trots, which is diametrically opposed to what my colon usually goes through. I suffer from bowel stage fright in any bathrooms but my own, and pooping while traveling? Impossible. Completely impossible.

The next morning the sky was still dark and dreary but we decided to chance it. That day had been earmarked. We only had two days in LA, and Day Two was allocated for shopping (and it was on Day Two-Target was hit hard, as was Old Navy and shoe shops, and I bought something that has me thinking very hard and feeling very good, but more on that later). But for Day One, all we all wanted was to go to Disneyland, and through hell or high water (which it looked like the heavens would comply with) we wanted to ride the rides.

We started with breakfast, as the matron made us zucchini frittatas (always popular with picky 9 year-old boys). She talked to us for ages about her mother's side of the family, who lived in London, and how she goes to England once every few years. She turned to me and regaled me with a long story of how she got upgraded once.

'We had so many bags, they tried to charge us for everything!' she bemoaned.

'I worry we're going to have the same problem heading home,' I agree.

'Well, here in the U.S. we have something called the Post Office. Just so you know, you can send things home via the Post Office.'

Well, slap my thighs and call me a Krispy Kreme. You have a post office here? I'll be goddamned. I could have sworn when I left the States that they were still using Pony Express and carrier pigeons. Techonology really does move on in the Big Country, doesn't it?

I smile, even though I have no idea what was up with her last statement. 'I also dread the flights home,' I add.

'Oh, but all you have to do is complain. See, the thing about Americans is that we complain. We get things done that way. It'll take you some practice and learning of how we Americans do things before you can see results.'

I cocked my head. What the hell? Did she think'¦? 'Um,' I stammer. 'I am an American.'

Her eyebrows shoot up. 'You are?'

'Yes,' I say, shrugging. It's obvious I'm American. All I have to do is open my mouth and it's like listening to the crackling drive through box at a local Wendy's.

'You don't sound American, not at all!' she chuckles.

It was to become a repeated mantra I heard throughout the holiday.

Something twigged in my memory that I may have been to Disneyland before, only nothing while I was there was actually familiar. So paying an exorbitant sum of money (Jesus Christ, how the hell do people not paid in shiny pounds sterling afford Disneyland? We were gifted with a great exchange rate, but if I was paid in US dollars and had to pay that kind of entrance free, I would demand a round of oral sex, or at least for them to do my laundry, for those kinds of prices.) We went immediately to the California Adventures Park, or something called a similar name like that, and spent some time on the rides there (note: The View Over California or whatever the hell cheesy title it had? Yeah. Worth it.) We enjoyed the Hollywood Tower of Terror ride so much it was ridden three times. We lunched there, too, where I was introduced to something that I hadn't seen in many years.

I was carded.

Repeatedly, as it happens, while I was in the U.S.

My 32nd birthday is in two weeks and I was getting carded.

Not only that, but in Disneyland, the goal is to throw you off.

While Angus, Melissa and Jeff gathered the lunch I went for the margarita hut. I never get margaritas over here and they are hands-down my favorite drink (ok, second favorite. Nothing can replace champagne in my heart, nothing!) So I walked over to the margarita hut.

'Hi, I'd like a margarita, frozen, with salt please?' I ask. Humph. As if there's any other way to drink a margarita.

'Certainly,' chirped the nameless, faceless Disney chick. 'Can I see some ID, please?'

Slightly startled, I nod and open my wallet. I pass my English ID onto the counter and she reviews it, checking the dates and my picture (and it was indeed a bad day on picture day) before smiling and handing it back to me. She turns to the wall and readies my margarita. 'Here you are, Helen,' she says, smiling and handing me the plastic cup of frozen goodness.

I look up quickly. Did I know this chick? I look at her name badge-'Wendy, Cast Member since 2003'. No'¦not familiar. I smile back, unsure, and hand her my money.

'Thank you, and this is seven, eight, nine and ten in change. Thank you, Helen!' she chirps.

I feel thrown off. I'm only buying one margarita, I generally require less chat from people keeping me in tequila.

We carry on with the rides. Since Melissa is a shining example of a Daddy's Girl more often than not Jeff and I are together, which is ok with us as we get on pretty well. Jeff is an odd child, an extremely sensitive but extremely tricky child who has to be handled carefully (perhaps a bit like me). He's very kind and sweet but also extraordinarily stubborn and he has an explosive temper, one so harsh that I'm wondering if therapy might be a good idea at some point in his future (but then I'm so paranoid about being screwed up that if I ever have a kid, chances are it'll be in therapy before it's toilet trained, sitting there gumming a pacifier and talking about its feelings). He's very inquisitive and pays close attention to everything you say, so fobbing him off on one of his four hundred thousand questions he'll issue forth is not a good move. He's both exhausting and enormously rewarding.

He's also going through a bit of a phase at the moment, a 'my body is a temple' phase, which means no sodas, no excess sugars, no caffeine and no swearing. It also means he'll lecture anyone who enjoys any of the above vices, and if you're an adult he'll throw in the sudden need to revive the temperance movement as that gets commented on with gusto. It gets annoying, this almightiness about the organic crunchy life. It's bad enough to have to ensure I never swear, add on lectures about coffee intake and a discussions about a glass of wine and it's downright wearying. He's concerned his sister is swearing in school, so he's thinking of asking her friends and discussing with them about her not cussing. To which I think-He's going to approach his disdainful teenage sister's friends about her swearing? Yeah...I wonder how many stitches he'll need after said encounter.

The kid, he is ripe for the Scientology or Mormon pickings. I worry about the day someone comes forth with a lifestyle quiz or whizzing by on a bicycle, back tie flapping in the wind.

The day continued at Disneyland, which actually was enjoying sparkling sunshine and nice warm temperatures. Combine it with no crowds, and we had no wait at most of the rides at Disneyland. It was fantastic. We rode Space Mountain four times, at which point I decided the souvenir I wanted most wasn't mouse ears, I wanted a T-shirt that said 'I went to Disneyland and all I got was this lousy concussion.' My neck throbbed and my head ached (that aside, do you know how weird it is to have to poop at Disneyland? It feels so fundamentally wrong, like wanting to have oral sex with a Smurf or sell a My Little Pony to Alpo).

At the end of the evening, all rode out on silly rides, whipping rides, water rides and rides which we had to take just because it's Disneyland but which we hated (*cough*It's a Small World*cough*). We noticed that there was a parade drawing up and the sidewalks of the main street were getting crowded. We sat on one curb and surveyed the scene-Disney 'cast members' getting the crowd excited, talking to the kids, and got children dancing in the street. The lights strung all over the park lit up the night, and when the parade started Disney characters by the bushel came out on floats, dancing and singing to the kids on the sidewalk curb, absolutely spellbound in delight.

'Helen,' Melissa ventured, 'Why is Disney such a big deal to Americans?' She is looking at the dancing characters, a small frown on her face. Disney is not big in Sweden, so I understand her reaction. It's maybe not that huge in the UK, although Angus' nieces sure are nuts about Disney princess characters. I look at the dancing little girls, their eyes shining with adoration, their tiaras, wings, princess hats askew. Their heroes are just in front of them, characters that are as real to them as their family is, perhaps more so. I see in their eyes what I know we all had at some point.

'Disney was something we grew up with," I say, smiling at a little girl hug a woman playing Belle from Beauty and the Beast. "We had Walt Disney to tell us stories, to wrap up our dreams and deliver them with fairy dust. We had Muppets, we had Mickey Mouse, we had all of these fantastic things straight from our imaginations. They were the ones who taught us right from wrong, good from bad, and all of it with a sparkle that our ordinary lives never had. We grew up with Disney, and I think we're better for it.'

I look at her and smile. 'Now there's Tinkerbell on that float. Let's grab her and rip her goddamn wings off.'

-H.

PS-pictures will be uploaded to Flickr as I go.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 06:50 AM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
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1 Hey WATCH IT on the wings... Tinkerbell is the only acceptable Disney character for me (and my own damaged childhood) leading to my nickname obviously

Posted by: stinkerbell at March 15, 2006 11:10 AM (QcMkT)

2 So glad you are back, dear Helen! Sounds like you had a great trip! Tower of Terror is my favorite Disney ride.

Posted by: SaraJane at March 15, 2006 01:03 PM (t5Xsa)

3 I'm so glad you're back and can't wait to hear the rest of the details. As for Disney. Feh. Went to Disneyland with my mom when I was 6 or so. Got so freaked by the huge crowds, I begged her to leave. For the past 8 years, I've lived within and hour of Disneyworld. Been there maybe 4 times...always with an out of town guest. Too damn expensive. This year Hubby suggested we look into annual passes...hahaha. Only appoximately $450 each. Space Mountain rocks as do the water parks. We've done the water park annual passes before and they were so worth it. I'm looking forward to Peanut being old enough and ear tube-free so we can do them again.

Posted by: selzach at March 15, 2006 01:09 PM (/AjES)

4 You're back! OMG, I was so lonely. You're back! You're back! You're back!

Posted by: Lindsay at March 15, 2006 03:35 PM (mHNC3)

5 H~ God I love Disneyland. I don't care how expensive it is. When I lived in CA I went so often I think knew all the vendors by first name. I hadn't been back in years since I moved to OH. So when I visited in Nov. I made sure a day was set aside for my beloved place. I went to California Adventure for the first time and almost threw up when I went on the tower of terror. Good God. Kill me if I have to go back on that thing. Pluging drops...yeah not for me. Did you go on the Pirates of the Caribean? My favorite of all time.

Posted by: Tiffani at March 15, 2006 03:39 PM (KE4Gu)

6 So glad you're back babe! I've never been to Disneyland, but I've been to Disney World, and I'm with ya on The Tower of Terror. It was my favorite last time! As for the frozen margaritas, you lost me. On the rocks with no salt (NO SALT!) for me. Anyway, can't wait to read the rest of the trip tales.

Posted by: amy t. at March 15, 2006 03:45 PM (zPssd)

7 HA!! Further proof that you sound English.

Posted by: statia at March 15, 2006 04:28 PM (NsnoE)

8 Ugh...rides that plummet. I stutter, wet my pants, and cry at the thought. CANNOT.DO.TOWER.OF.TERROR.. Did it once. Once was enough. Sounds like a blast...

Posted by: Dana at March 15, 2006 07:38 PM (bXMHw)

9 I think the rule at Disneyland is to card anyone that looks younger than 30. Sorry if that burst your bubble a little bit. Glad you are back and can't wait to read the rest.

Posted by: Donna at March 15, 2006 08:08 PM (Aanzg)

10 Glad to hear you had a great time, and that you are back and blogging! I love Disneyland. We use to get season tickets to Disney and Knotts Berry Farm. I love them both. Well, I guess I can't leave out SD Zoo and Wild animal park either. We had seasonal tickets for them too lol! Can't wait to hear more about your time in NZ! Oh and the one place that I could never go in again at Disney is that one that plays that obnoxious song. You know the one. Once and it haunts you for life!

Posted by: justme at March 15, 2006 08:59 PM (AQrnd)

11 Glad to see you home again Helen.I must agree with you about Air NZ..its great service and clean safe planes..and good food.Looking forward to the pics youve taken of NZ

Posted by: butterflies at March 15, 2006 09:21 PM (nK8UD)

12 Ye gods! Haven't been to Disneyland in forever, given that I left So. California behind some twelve years ago. I remember having my high school Grad Night there, and running off with my friend's girlfriend when she got tired of hanging out with him all night. Good times. Glad to see you back. Now I need a vacation.

Posted by: diamond dave at March 15, 2006 10:14 PM (QmI9R)

13 Welcome back! sounds like you had a great time.. I love Disney World but, yeah..very expensive!! its a little cheaper for Florida residents but not much. We always go sit through the time share presentations and get our tickets free when we go LOL My fav'rit ride is Pirates of the Carribean.. Suze don't DO roller coasters..!! carded, huh? too funny.. I'll be 40 in August and I still get carded.. its ridiculous.

Posted by: JaxVenus at March 15, 2006 10:41 PM (ecPE7)

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