Disney became my playground later in life. I established a lay of the land in my early-mid twenties. There was an overlapping period while Jordan’s family were members of the Disney Vacation Club and I was an intern for their College Program. What I lovingly refer to as my Disney Renaissance marked a making up for lost time.
As Disney Resorts guests return to the lobby, staff greet them with “Welcome Home!”. I had the unique opportunity to both say and hear the phrase often. To this day, I’ll whisper the words to myself whenever I drive through the main Walt Disney World entrance.
There’s no better place to people-watch than Disneyworld.
The energy of newcomers radiated as bright as the Florida sun. To see the parks through fresh eyes helped dust off my nostalgic and familiar perspective.
The free park access was one of the best perks of the Disney College Program. With the wave of a pass, I got to bring along friends and family. I’d coordinate trips with my new intern friends. It was simple enough in the beginning but once orientation and training were behind us, we were handed feverish schedules. Back then, the parks were open 365 days a year rain or shine. Similar to most jobs in Hospitality, it required working on holidays and pulling overtime. Many students were juggling fulltime work with online college classes.
I tried my best to treat my limited free time wisely, although it was seldom shared. In an apartment of four interns we were rarely all home at the same time. The expiration date of my five month program prompted me to do something I would’ve never imagined doing prior to my internship.
With my familiarity of the parks, I was well equipped to make the experience of going alone as enjoyable and efficient as possible.
I knew which restaurants and food stalls had the quickest service and at what times; I could decipher the “good bathrooms” from the ones to avoid (the more hidden they were the better), and I perfected my fast pass strategy to a tee. Perhaps the biggest game changer was the single rider line option. It allowed us independent folks to surpass the sometimes hour long waits and jump on a ride in a fraction of the time. I would’nt have been afforded a quick ride or two before a shift without it.
Don’t get me wrong, there were days off I spent moseying in the park without an agenda. When the mood would strike, I’d find a shady spot to settle into with a book and kick my feet up while everyone else was shuffling around me.
Animal Kingdom was where I’d find myself going solo most often.
The massive Tree of Life was the centerpiece of the park. I looked to it as a symbol of comfort. I’m not sure how the square footage shakes out but out of all the parks it felt the most spacious. It was also the easiest to get to, unlike the journey it takes to get to Magic Kingdom which requires a train, a tram or a ferry to arrive at the front gates.
The biggest draw of Animal Kingdom was it being home to Dinosaur. I stand by my claim that it’s the most underrated Disney ride. Based on the animated film, the ride took you through the late Cretaceous period minutes before extinction in a turbulent time-traveling car. I frequented it so often I could recite the cheesy onboarding video by heart. It was fun and silly but failed to give a clear depiction of what riders were in for.
Majority of the ride is shrouded in loud noises and darkness. The Time Rover whips passengers around in all directions where you’re met with prehistoric animatronics both big and small. It was like a simulated museum exhibit in the best way. The nuanced speed and hydraulic system is something I learned to appreciate after my dozenth time on the ride. It kept me on my toes.
For the grand finale, riders are dramatically met with the meat-eating Carnotaurus just inches away from the Time Rover. The vehicle then plummets into a mild drop back to current day. Had the drop been steeper, it would classify as a perfect ride. The demographic of passengers under the age of seven however would adamantly disagree. Without fail, there would be at least one meltdown per vehicle. Photos capturing the sheer terror of unsuspecting faces were blown up on a screen as guests exited through the giftshop. The fact that parents chuckle at them too made me feel justified in my entertainment.
Disney spends the biggest portion of their budget on the nightly fireworks show. The music and lights projected on the castle are married together in a whimsical and impressive arrangement. There was little I loved more than to watch strangers watch the fireworks for what could be their first time. The sweet energy that hung over thousands of strangers melted away my anxiety of big crowds. It’s what kept me coming back with or without company.
On my twenty first birthday, Jordan and I were fresh into dating. Before becoming a regular, he took me to Magic Kingdom for my first time in over a decade. The visit was made bittersweet by the fact it was our first out of town trip together. It also marked our last hurrah before what would be the start of a long distance relationship. We spent weeks anticipating the trip like kids on Christmas. The day of celebrating was perfect. But the further we got into the night, the heavier our looming goodbye felt. As the lights dimmed, I tried to hold back tears as the first firework shot through the sky. I failed miserably.
My guess is Disney’s fireworks evoke a lot of bittersweet memories for people.
I can’t help but imagine the other endings and beginnings the show has witnessed. There had to be others holding back tears too. Parents pour into their savings to create family experiences, children in their blue Make-a-Wish Foundation t-shirts get their dreams granted, Grandparents could relive their childhood and feel young again. Countless celebrations and milestones happen around the castle under the glowing sky, it’s nice to feel like the fireworks are especially for you.
Despite seeing behind the curtain, the Disney magic was never lost on me. It can be found in the eyes of other people if I ever need a reminder.
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