After a trip to Disneyland in California a few years ago, I (Greg) swore that I'd never visit the “friendliest place on earth” ever again. But what is a parent to do when two sets of young, sad, cute eyes look up at you and plead to visit the European version of Mickey's home? Relent, I guess.
So, with a school holiday in store for the kids, we set off southward for the Parisian suburbs that house the magic kingdom. After an early departure and a 5-hour drive, we arrived as fresh as 2-week old milk, ready for spinning teacups, spacey mountains, and sightings of Pluto.
Stacey stayed with us for the first day before jumping on the train to the center of Paris to join up with some friends. We took advantage of every moment within the park, hitting the rides, watching the parades, and enjoying the experience that only Disney can deliver. One of the highlights for dad was sitting between the two kids on the “Big Thunder Mountain” roller coaster, listening in my right ear as Maya squealed and laughed with delight, then looking over at Cole with a look of sheer terror on his face. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
I thought for some time about who he resembled with his face, and a few images popped into my head: Those of Chevy Chase and the teenager in the movie Fletch, when Fletch "borrows" the car to escape from the bad guys...Here are the pics:
Mickey delivered on his promise to show us a good time. I only wish he could have made the drive home (plagued with traffic jams and highway accidents near Brussels) as fun as the time within the Magic Kingdom.
Back home in Amsterdam, we cooled our jets for a full day before heading out on ANOTHER trip that would take us through the remainder of the kids' week holiday from school—but you'll have to read the next blog installment for the details.