Jetlag, bad backs and talk of the Hulk’s entrance.

It’s been an odd week, and a long week.  It does seem like forever since our holiday, and I feel like I’ve done about twelve days at work this week.

The jet lag only seemed to linger over me until Monday I think, and I’m very glad that the girls had an extra day to recover as their body clocks were all over the place over the weekend.  Louise returned to the UK with a very bad back, and without stealing my own thunder for the latter parts of the trip report, she really struggled through the last few days of the trip.

So after seeing both the emergency and proper doctor on her return she’s been on horse tranquilisers in an attempt to kill the pain and stay mobile.

The girls have returned to school, and we’ve been told that Rebecca’s hair is “inappropriate”.  Yes I can see that a few strands of red hair is going to endanger the education of the entire school.  Good to see the teachers are concentrating on what is important.  We thanked them for their interest anyway.

Pink Dr Martens
Is there a doctor in the house?

Rebecca returned from the US in the unusual position of not having found anything substantial to spend her dollars (donated by grandparents) on.  So I spent them instead.  I did promise her that I would refund them in pounds on our return, so, with minimal delay, she claimed the funds this week, and purchased a pair of bright pink Dr Martens.  Out of spite I might just send her to school in them!

Work has been pretty busy too, and I returned to find that we’re undertaking a fairly major restructure, and it turns out they want me to do something different to what I have been for the past few….well, weeks.  Same sort of stuff, just more people to look after, and a bit more stuff on my plate.  I approach these things with the usual sense of gratitude, relief they think I’m worth employing and outright fear that I am going to make a right ricket of it.  We’ll see.

So, in my very brief blog earlier in the week I mentioned some sort of rant.  Thinking about it, rant may be a little strong.  Whilst doing multiple theme parks in Florida, I did come across a common behaviour by those inhabiting theme park establishments, and I thought that if I wrote my displeasure of it here, where a handful of people will read it, this is bound to fix the entire situation for the next time we return.

So, being fairly organised in my approach to these holidays, I’m also not bad at planning our route around a park “on the go” so to speak.  I don’t need a map of the parks anymore, and I have a good idea of what to do, not only next, but like some sort of theme park chess master, what the next couple of things will be.

I think, a good analogy here would be when I was learning to drive.  I used to go out of a weekend with my Dad, and only came close to death once really.  One thing my Dad told me has always stuck with me when it comes to driving, and it was this.

“Don’t just look at the end of your bonnet, lift your head up, and look down the road so you can see what’s coming and plan for it”.

I’ve always remembered this, and I do consider myself half decent at seeing things coming on the road, and being aware of upcoming muppetry from others before it happens.

So how is this relevant?  Well, as we approach an attraction, I already have everything I need.  So if we are using a Fastpass, I have them all out, in an attractive fan shape, ready for inspection.  I also take a good look at the entrance, and make sure I know which entrance is for Fastpass and which is for the unwashed.  I had (in the past when relevant) a decent idea if the girls were tall enough, and if the ride was suitable for them.

This means that we are through the entrance and into the queue or attraction with minimal fuss.

Entrance to the hulk
Beware the Hulk's entrance

What started to really bug me was the high number of folk who walked up to something, with all their party, usually double figures, and then proceeded to stand right in front of the entrance looking at the ride as if it was an alien ship just landed, or fishing out fastpasses, or trying to talk their way into the Fastpass line without any, or asking the CM inane questions like what time the three o’clock parade is, or arguing who was going to go on with Uncle Harold.

All this time, I am trying to navigate my way through this mini minefield, with my Fastpasses in fan, a large backpack attached to me and all the while tutting for England.

This ride entrance paralysis drove me insane.  For goodness sake, lift your head up, think about what will happen five seconds in advance, and don’t arrive at the entrance and then think it odd that the CM wants to see the Fastpasses stuffed at the bottom of your bag under four ponchos and three bottles of coke.

Then, when in the queue, don’t double back seven times to talk to a family member who hasn’t entered, to try to get them to come on, then expect to walk right back to where you were.  I only have so many tuts available to me in my lifetime, and I fear I may wear them out pretty soon.

Had I read this a few weeks ago I would have thought the writer an anal, control freak, who needs to just chill and go with the flow.  But remember this rant the next time you are in a park.  As you come up to a ride, watch out for the loitering nuisances blocking the entrance.  Kick them in the shin and tell them I sent you.

As rants go, that is quite tame I know, and it came nowhere near having a negative impact on the holiday.  Besides if I don’t get to tut and feel superior to someone a couple of times a day I get all grumpy.

So, I’ll crack on with the trip report as time allows, but it may be a while.  Work is about to ramp up to a whole new level of inconvenience, and one night this week I was astounded to find myself actually doing work at home, in the evening, after hours, not in the office, in my own time.  Did I make that clear?

Hopefully Louise’s back will improve too, as that seriously looked like anything but fun.

Till the next time….