TRAVELING WITH KIDS: AMUSEMENT PARKS
Like so many parents, we fell into the (tourist) trap of family trips to big theme parks. I can only assume that the people with mickey mouse bumper stickers and Orlando time shares know something (a lot) that we didn’t. As amusement park revellers we made many a misstep – which in each case led to crying/barfing/screaming children. Exactly what you are hoping for in a family vacation.
Disney World, Orlando
The ultimate “what were we thinking?” theme park, Disney World was our first foray into the madness. Any place where mothers and daughters can get matching princess themed, extreme makeovers is not for me. But the tickets were a grandparent gift, so we put on our mouse ears and leaned in. S got “lost” (as in, she thought she was lost, and lost it, when I was right behind her) in the “Let the Magic Begin” opening ceremony. Five minutes into the Park and already a crying kid. S was “lost” in the middle of “Main Street USA”, standing immobile while dudes with gold epaulets and jaunty caps high stepped and blew trumpets all around her. It was…you guessed it…HilrWithUs.
This inauspicious beginning was bookended by yet another parade related mishap that afternoon. Having had our fill of watching failed actors impersonate “happily ever after” characters for minimum wage, we decided to skip parade number 100 of the day. Spying an empty ride cue on the far side of the floats and upside-down clowns, we cut through the marching band and gleefully ran through holding pens that normally would have meant a two week wait. In our no-line euphoria, we failed to notice the “Not recommended for…”, “Please be advised…”, “Don’t sue us…” signage. We find ourselves seated in a pitch-dark room. The girls are already getting keyed up, “I don’t like this”, “Its too dark”. We sush them and settle in for what turns out to be a 3-D, holographic, multi-sensory theatre experience of A Bug’s Life. Briefly lulled into a state of calm by a host of flitting butterflies and the smell of roses, we suddenly find ourselves on the front line of a stink bug war: massive explosions, cannons spewing out clouds of noxious fumes, fog as thick as pea soup, water spraying in our faces, seats jumping about… It was awesome, for the intended (adult) audience, that is. The kids? The kid are losing their minds, and are definitely NOT following the “please stay in your seat throughout the show” directive. They are standing in a desperate bid to escape … just in time for a swarm of spiders to drop down on their heads. They hightail it out of there screaming their heads off. I am trying to go after them but I am laughing so hard I can’t see. M continues to watch the show: “I’ll meet you after”. The girls, meanwhile, are outside cowering in a quaking huddle while being accosted by the twangy banjo tunes of the Country Bear Jamboree.
Marineland, Niagara Falls
For those of you who, like me, grew up tortured by the ear worm theme song of Marineland, I was super excited to finally get there, at age 40. After all, “Everyone Loves Marineland!!!” It is worth noting that Marineland shut down (/was condemned) less than a year after our visit, and hadn’t seen a single upgrade since 1962. It was an animal rights disaster. Heck, it was a human rights disaster. After amusing ourselves (okay, mostly myself) yelling “Free Willy!” while we waited for the Orca show to begin, I spotted the “Splash Zone”. Splash Zone!!! That sounds awesome! Down I go, dragging an “it’ll be fun” hostage (aka unwiting daughter) with me as a required prop. A few things of note: 1) it was cold out, 2) it was early in the day, 3) other people in the splash zone had ponchos on. Let’s just summarize by saying: decidedly poor judgement on my part. Not only did we get soaked - we got soaked with fetid, salty, sad-captured-whale water. M gave the me the “What did you think was going to happen?” look he has had many occassions to perfect.[1]
[1] I would like to tell you that I learned from this amusement park novice error. I did not. The Splash Zone incident only came back to me AFTER picking Splash Mountain as our very first ride at Universal Studios. What, one might ask, don’t I understand about the word “Splash”?
Six Flags, Lake George
If you have ever been to the Adirondacks, you know how amazingly beautiful it is there. If you have ever been to Lake George, you know how thoroughly humankind can destroy beautiful places. We found ourselves in this heaven/hell purgatory as a means of breaking up a long road trip. After checking out the Elvis impersonator performing in the lakeside gazebo, and perusing the fifty different combo tattoo parlour/T-shirt shops, we ate some greasy BBq and retired to our 2 star (5 star price point) accommodations at the “Six Flags Escape Lodge and Indoor Waterpark Resort”. Things to note about indoor water parks: small children aren’t allowed on any of the slides and can only romp in the cold chlorine waterfalls of the slimt splasg pad. Also, tall adults (M) don’t make it around the final bend of the “death drop” tube and have to be let out the escape hatch. So the indoor waterpark is a bust. But that’s okay because the exorbitant room rate allows us to get “early entry” into the amusement park. After a sleepless night with roller coasters flying up and over our room, followed by powdered eggs that (like everything else in the ‘Resort’) are infused with Eau de Public Pool, we set out to Six Flags. Turns out ‘early entry’ only gets you access to the “exit through the gift shop” section of the park where we stand around for 45 minutes waiting for the actual park to open. Finally, the doors open and we have our pick of the rides! Now, I can only assume that Six Flags is called “New York’s Most Thrilling Theme Park” for a reason. But I wouldn’t really know one way or the other, because the first ride we picked was the good ol’ fashioned (aka lame) Tilt-a-Whirl. M is ALL IN on the Tilt-a-Whirl. He’s heaving his weight back and forth, getting us zigging and zagging, and flipping in all directions. Because there is no one in line (who else would pick the Tilt-a-Whirl as their first ride?), the Carney is letting the ride go and go (and go). By the time he finally sees us desperately waving our white flag (one of the 6?) of surrender, we are all on the verge of puking (did I mention the powdered eggs?). We tried to rally, but even the soft serve didn’t settle our stomachs. We called it quits after a single ride, bringing our cost per ride to a price point I have chosen to forget.
What can I say? Give me the Smash ‘em Up Derby at the local fair any day. (Although one of the girls ate too much cotton candy and barfed there too.)