I know this is a ridiculous thing to say after the last couple of years, but I need a bloody holiday!
A mixture of our leaky roof saga (now resolved) and our never ending kitchen refit (about 95% done), along with some work stuff that would try the patience of a saint, I am frazzled. It feels like we have been living amidst chaos for far too long.
I know it is physcological, and if I did not have an imminent trip booked I would probably feel less deperate for it, but here we are.
The worst news of last week was discovering that The Cheesecake Factory have stopped using Yelp for their reservations and now they insist on a US phone number to do any table booking. This means I will have to do an actual phone call to the restaurant once we’re in Orlando to book us a table. I know I could do it now, but that would add unacceptable pennies to the bill of thousands for this holiday so I won’t of course.
All this activity, choas and kerfuffle has meant that over the last few weeks and months I haven’t really watched any Florida vlogs. I have managed a couple recently to discover that The Trackers are clearly billionaires now and Mr Morrow has shifted his views per video from the 30,000 bracket to the 100,000 bracket. Good luck to them both.
It did dawn on me whilst watching one showing Mr Morrow spend about $300 in Gideon’s that when we are there in mid-November I think all the Christmas stuff will be up. Not that we will be in a park of course, but it will be nice to see that at Disney Springs and any resorts we go to.
Halloween starts in August and Christmas on November 1st I would assume.
With a flurry of activity late last week in our kitchen we were hoping it would be done. We had multiple trades in the room at the same time on Thursday and Friday and enough got done to get us a functioning kitchen and we can now start to think about putting the house back together again. Maybe by next week it’ll be really finished and in a state fit for some photos that I can share.
My hatred for the disruption of this type of stuff going on in the house only grows deeper every time we do it.
On Saturday we had Dougie stay over with us as Rebecca and Tom took Freddie away to Drayton Manor for an early birthday treat. He is trouble in human form but also a little love and we dutifully spoiled him rotten.
I had a long arranged gig so Louise was on main duty until this morning.
Freddie had a blast too.
Now for some rest before the madness of whatever next week brings starts.
I’ve been seeing a lot of posts on social media this week about the 100th anniversary of Disney. As ever, I like to be at the forefront of these online trends and post about it many days after the event. It is this cutting-edge nature that sees my blog surge in popularity week after week.
Many of these posts seemed to be trying to summarise what Disney means to people, and the effect it has had on their lives. I’m genuinely at a loss as to where to start with that. But of course that will not stop me now from spending the rest of this post trying to do exactly that.
My first ten years on this planet were lived in a normal way, in terms of Disney. I’d watch the films and every bank holiday I would watch the Disney special that was inevitably on the telly, showing clips from all the classic films.
Our holidays were, I am lucky enough to say, regular and wonderful, with the destinations usually being somewhere Balearic.
Then one fateful day in the first half of 1980, our family went into Bolton town centre (when there was one) to go and book our next holiday.
For those under 30, this involved sitting in a shop and watching someone who worked there tap away at some pre-historic-looking green screen VDU if you were lucky. I genuinely can’t remember if by 1980 AT Mays in Bolton had those, but via whatever method our travel agent was looking at stuff, the phrase that would change my life forever was uttered.
“You know, for the same price as Mallorca, I can do you Miami.”
This was mainly due to a dollar rate of 2.20 to the pound. Now, this working-class Bolton family had barely heard of Miami, never mind ever dreamt of going there and I don’t think it took long for that decision to be made.
Of course, zero planning was done. I was nine. I do vividly remember the flight, and that all drinks were free, and I think my Mum probably had one too many Miami Whammies (I’ve no idea either but they were easy to drink it looked like).
Somewhere we still have photos of all the stewardesses on that flight, who to me, at nine and from a northern mill town (whippets optional) they all looked like film stars and I don’t mean Danny DeVito. Obviously, I’ve shared all this previously as I discovered a load of 1980 photos buried deep in a post from years ago.
The holiday itself was mostly like the others. We stayed in a hotel on Miami Beach, and I swam a lot and discovered American food and portion sizes and I have been fat ever since.
Then in the middle of the trip, we drove up to Orlando, stayed in a Howard Johnson (a hotel, not a person), and did Disney.
Now, at that time, Disney was just Magic Kingdom and a very small embryo of Disney Springs called The Disney Village.
Obviously, I fell in love. I turned 10 in America and I remember us going to a mall called Omni that had a merry-go-round in it which blew my mind and my Mum and Dad bought me a birthday cake there.
For years afterward, at family parties and get-togethers, my Dad would tell the same stories over and over about the size of a pizza we got and the number of slices of turkey he got on one particular sandwich, as well as phrases about people not being able to appreciate the scale of the park (there was just one as Epcot would open soon after).
“You get to the entrance and you’re still bloody miles from the turnstiles! You park up, get a tram and a monorail, and only then are you in”. They probably thought us all a bit weird.
I’ve carried on this tradition by regurgitating the same stories here for over a decade.
We even brought home a menu from a restaurant called Pumpernickels in Miami as nobody would believe us when we got home. I remember us being absolutely floored by there being two huge bowls on every table when you were seated, one full of coleslaw and one full of bread.
I have very limited but very vivid memories of this trip as it was a long, long time ago now, to the extent that I question whether they are accurate memories or just some sort of assumed thinking of something we did.
Now, clearly, all of this bred a love for Florida more generally, but the Northern Star in all this, and the tractor beam that has kept pulling us back there was WDW.
We went back several times during my childhood. I’m sad and sorry to say I cannot remember how many times. It’s a long time ago now and no notes were made, and all the photos were analogue.
Once I had my own family, it was my Dad again who re-ignited my passion for the place. He was about to retire and had an endowment policy burning a hole in his pocket. He declared he would be taking us all to Disney. That was him and my Mum, my brother, his wife and their two kids and us four.
I think he booked it over the phone with Travel City Direct, after scrolling through Teletext for hours, but I may be confusing that with other trips. It was £199 each for fly-drive and we had a huge, beautiful villa on Highlands Reserve. Our hire car was more of a bus, and we spent a lot of time one night being lost in Celebration I remember. It was Halloween and the place looked amazing.
Again, no planning was really done but we of course loved it.
The rest as they say is history with our own trips as a four, starting in 2001. An un-reported stay at the All Stars. From then on, pretty much every year we have been back in one way or another. Looking back now I really cannot fathom how we afforded it. Well, sometimes, we didn’t, but I don’t regret any of the trips, memories, experiences, and lovely times we had.
Some time around the time these trips of our own started I discovered the Disboards and then of course The Dibb. These were cutting-edge tools of their day and I learned so much from them and made some good friends too who we met many times over the years.
It is very hard to sum up what Disney has meant to us as I just do not have the writing ability to capture that. I suppose with recent events my Dad is in my thoughts. He loved the place and what he really got a thrill out of on the odd occasion it happened, was, during my Dibb days, we would get approached in a park by fellow Dibbers who recognised us. I think he was quite proud of that tiny bit of recognition, and he certainly enjoyed being in and reading the trip reports.
Now of course, we have started the next generation of trips with Freddie and Dougie, and I doubt they will be as obsessed as I am, and probably will not go as often, but I think, for those who get it, my girls have both summed up what I’m trying to say in different ways.
Firstly, here are the photos Emily posted on her Disney Instagram account last week (go follow her) showing how she feels Disney has touched her life. I think they do it perfectly.
Secondly, I’ll go back to our first trip with Freddie in 2019. It was our first morning and we were of course in Magic Kingdom. We had just entered the park and were standing at the hub looking up at the castle. There was a trolley show on, and I think one of the performers gave Freddie some attention whilst he watched from his stroller. I turned to see Rebecca in floods of tears, and she said…
“I get it now!”.
Of course, she had loved WDW before, but it hits differently as a parent and to see that realisation on her face and her reaction to seeing Freddie in that place, will probably tell you all I want to about 100 years of Disney without me trying to get the words out.
Cynics may say this is all manufactured schmaltz and others may say I should stop regurgitating the same content and photos and they are probably right, but beyond the schmaltz can be a form of magic, a generational bond, formed from memories and happy times that can help to get you through the less happy ones. Ultimately, if that makes you feel “better”, if it supports your mental state and improves your well being then it can’t be a bad thing. It’s better than doing drugs, although a lot more expensive.
It has been a bit of a week. Hectic is how I would describe it, with some chaos thrown in for good measure.
I was in the office on Monday and Tuesday. I don’t think I have done two days in the office in a row since February 2020. It hurt, and if, as The Daily Mail may have you believe, the whole country is working from home now, why did my commute take longer than it did pre-pandemic? I will not be repeating that in a hurry.
Our roofer finally turned up on Monday and got to work stopping our living room wall resembling Niagra Falls. He didn’t come Tuesday as it was raining, but thankfully by then he had found and fixed the bit that was causing all the trouble and we were watertight.
He was back later in the week to do the bulk of the work and said he should finish tomorrow. It will be an (expensive) weight off my mind but “Winter is Coming” (we are currently almost done with a complete rewatch of Game of Thrones, and we had forgotten most of it, so it has been very enjoyable) and I will sleep easier knowing we have sorted what has been a troublesome part of the house since we moved in.
Whilst that went on in one part of the house, the kitchen continued to be a scene of chaos. Our fitter was back for a day, followed by the electrician, and then on Friday, the men came to take away everything that is to be resprayed. We are keeping most of our existing cabinets, adding a few more, and have new worktops. That may have reduced costs slightly, but we seem to have opted for the “longest possible disruption” option.
We have a working hob and oven but still no sink and all our cupboards have no doors. I thrive in this chaos!
Then on Thursday evening, I was out at a Mustard gig, (yes I still do the band thing) and we were playing at the after-party for an awards do in Manchester. It was a star-studded affair if Kris Akabusi presenting the awards fits that description. We did not actually attend the awards ceremony so missed his hurdling-related high jinx (he was a hurdler right?) and we were just celebrity adjacent, knowing he was somewhere in the same venue. It was a building awards event and we had a good night but it was a very late one for a school night!
Then on Friday morning, I had to go to the dentist, just for a check-up but it was lovely to hear that I have gum disease, just to confirm that I am old and decrepit.
Speaking of rubbing shoulders with celebrities, whilst on Facebook the other day I spotted a clip from Phoenix Nights. Whilst nobody other than me and Louise would ever spot it, there in the background in the dressing room at the club (real name, St Gregory’s in Bolton) was Louise’s promo from when she was doing the club circuit in the late 90’s. Acts performing at a club would always leave their photo/promo on dressing room walls. Don’t try to click the arrow to play the video, I just grabbed a screenshot so you could really appreciate the blurry thing that may or may not be what I said it was.
It was a club we regularly visited on the circuit and it is exactly as the show depicts it, as were (and probably still are) most of the other clubs too. That dressing room is as “roomy” as it looks and most were also filled with all the crap the club didn’t have anywhere else to put, such as broken bingo machines, the Play Your Cards Right game, and the Hoover. Endless glamour it was not.
Unrelated to anything else, it’s been a while since I inflicted any photos of our endless pets on you, so here are some from when Emily took Woody to a pumpkin patch yesterday.
He’s almost 18 months old now and I suppose it is safe to say he’s here to stay and part of the family.
I am ever hopeful that by the time I post here again, we may have a fully fixed roof and a kitchen approaching something like normality. It’s this naivety that is both stupid and admirable in equal measure.
We are now less than a month from our Orlando holiday (we’re still not doing any WDW parks!) and I am ready. I did ask Louise if I could get the cases out yesterday as I was going to the outhouse in which they are stored for some other reason but I was denied.
On Facebook, the local community pages just seem to be a load of boomers mooning over photos from the old days when rickets and 10-year-old chimney sweeps were a thing, yearning for a return to those golden times.
“Oh look how full our town centre was and how many great shops there were,” they say before going to the door to collect their 4th Amazon delivery that week.
I can enjoy memories of the past without always thinking that today is bobbins and yesterday was always better because it wasn’t.
Having said that I am a bit of a sucker for some WDW nostalgia and this week some was sent to me that I feel compelled to share. As you know I am on close personal terms with all the high-ups at Disney, and they all read my blogs you know, and every now and again a Disney Imagineer that I know through a friend will send me some good stuff. I don’t know how much I can say about this Imagineer but I will tell you he was heavily involved in the recent project to design and build that real lightsaber you may have seen showcased at a recent D23. It is annoying that he seems to have the job I would like. It’s only a lack of relevant qualifications, experience, and about 4,500 miles that stand in my way.
Anyway, this week I received this gem from him of WDW in 1973.
It’s funny how some things look unchanged and some unrecognisable and that I suppose is the sweet spot for WDW to achieve. I was 3 when this was filmed, and aside from most of the people in the film now being dead of course, I wonder what they would have made of how things are now.
Have a watch if you can spare the time. It’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket.
This video, as lovely as it is, has not altered our intention of not visiting any parks in November. Part of the deal of going back to Orlando was to do so on the same budget as Egypt would have been, and with WDW park ticket prices as they are, they would be a deal breaker. Honestly, though, I have no real desire to do so either. That would change the entire trip’s dynamic and “planner Craig” would kick in and I’d be setting alarms for 6.50 a.m. to secure virtual queues and Lightning Lanes and then dragging Louise from one end of the park to the other because a ride we’ve ridden six dozen times only has a twenty-minute queue.
It’s enough that our entire eating itinerary is laid out already. It’s best not to awaken that beast.
The plan remains unchanged from last week, mainly as the week just gone has been an absolute shitter at work and with the house so I haven’t had the time or mood to be looking at it. It’s probably for the best.
Next week doesn’t look to be shaping up any better. I have to be in the office for two days in a row, which post-pandemic is an absolute insult and horror show and we have (the promise of) multiple workmen being in and on top of our house too. I can’t wait.
That last night of the trip was taunting me in its blankness, sat there on my plan, goading me to book something. What do you mean I could have not booked something and just gone with the flow?
I had thought I’d book somewhere around the Boardwalk but didn’t in the end. The Edison got the nod and that last remaining blank space is filled.
I looked at a few places and really wanted to try somewhere new. The menu and experience look pretty good based on what I read and watched so it’s booked and we’ll see how it goes.
Thanks to those suggesting things last week. Whilst we didn’t book to dine there, I did discover from one suggestion that there is another Jellyrolls style dueling piano bar at City Walk, in Pat O’Briens so we’re going to try and give that a go one night when we have dining planned at City Walk.
I’m now in that countdown hinterland, where no further planning is needed and it isn’t time to go to the airport yet. This feeling is probably why the plan will change before we go but it’s all part of the experience, right?
Away from holidays, our roof is still leaky, but now we know what it may cost for it not to be so. The figure is so large I cannot speak its name. Where we live, on the edge of the moors, where rain only happens 23 hours out of every 24, and when it comes, it comes sideways, we cannot risk not having a waterproof roof. We now sacrifice things at the altar of Sarah Beeny in the hopes of bringing the roofer to our property to actually do the work. There are rumours he may be with us “mid next week”. We shall see.
Our kitchen is more battlefield/bomb site than kitchen, and we spend our days working around the carnage and trying to tempt workmen back into the house to get it progressed. If someone were to condemn me to my own personal hell this would be it.
Oh and for good measure yesterday the washing machine broke so I had to find another workman to come into my house and relieve me of some money. Of course, despite not even being two years old, it is unfixable and we have to get a new one. Kerching!
Emily had her own troubles last week, finally catching Covid after all this time. There’s a lot of it around. She’s been quite poorly with it and is only now starting to feel anywhere close to normal again, but still testing positive almost a week later. Last weekend she attended two Busted gigs in Liverpool and Manchester arenas plus the work event I told you about down in Cardiff, which was attended by around 2,000 people, so it’s almost certain she got it at one of those. She’s been too ill to leave her bedroom for most of the week so protecting Louise and me from infection has been fairly easy.
Writing about trip planning and Covid takes me right back a couple of years to when all I did was plan trips that got canceled and moan about the handling of the pandemic.
Louise and I went to see Busted with her last Sunday too in Manchester and it was very enjoyable. We got Hanson included in the price of the ticket and here they all are performing one of my favourite songs.
All is well with Rebecca, Tom and the boys. Freddie is excited about his upcoming sixth birthday to which he has invited his whole school class. Sensibly, it will be held at a local play area. Dougie, who is 18 months old now, is starting to walk which only adds to the fun of daily life for Rebecca. He is a little bit more of a handful than Freddie was!
We are off out for tea with them later, along with my Mum who is doing OK, despite feeling a bit lonely at times. Adjusting to life without your husband after so many decades together must be difficult.
So there ends a post with a nice mixture of trip planning and life updates. I feel really out of practice in writing non trip report blogs so let’s hope something (good and not expensive) happens in the next seven days to give me something to droan on about.
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