Where do you go in Florida when you have a day to kill between crashing at your snow-birding parents’ condos? Disney World, of course!
That’s right, my husband Doo and I decided to celebrate ourselves recently at the happiest place on Earth, specifically Magic Kingdom and Epcot. Thirty SPF sunscreen, 12 hours, two parks and zero offspring made for a truly magical experience. And thanks to my colleague “Julie McCoy,” who created a highly detailed plan of attack for us, we were able to maximize our time and budget while bearing witness to humanity at its most exacerbated. And sweatiest.
The morning was dedicated to reliving my youth, circa 1977. We rode It’s a Small World, Pirates of the Caribbean, Haunted Mansion, Jungle Cruise and Peter Pan’s Flight, but skipped Space Mountain because roller coasters make me pukey now. Delightful. Thrill-seeker Doo thought they were all dumb but understood the nostalgia. On to Epcot! Soaring and Mission to Mars (Mission to Earth for me because, again, pukey) had him feeling much better, though he was bummed about missing the new Guardians of the Galaxy ride because of our incompetence booking a virtual queue ticket (which, turns out, is totally different than using Genie to Lighting Lane to make a reservation. Idiot). We ended our most glorious of Mondays with a leisurely stroll through the World Showcase, sampling spicy empanadas and margaritas from Mexico, giant pretzels and beer from Germany, and a surprisingly good soft serve swirl from Norway (pineapple and salted caramel? Yes, please!).
Anyhoo, Disney did not disappoint and provided a wonderfully fun, parent-free stopgap for our trip to Florida.
Peace out.
