F***ing It Up In Florida - How Not To Holiday In The Sunshine State - Part Three
Around this time we decided to head up to the Mall At Millenia. It would be our first visit there.
And probably the last too.
It was essentially a similar kind of thing to the Trafford Centre, only with more expensive shops. It was very nice, but underwhelming unless you are a millionaire.
The one positive from it was a trip to The Cheesecake Factory. I'd known about this place for a while as one of the Tennessee Titans old QB's, Vince Young, essentially lived in one for the duration of his time with the franchise.
So we headed in at around 11am for elevenses of cake and a drink.
We all ordered a variety of dessert items, and they unfailingly were absolutely huge. So much so elevenses turned into "well we won't be needing any lunch today".
I made friends with a young lad in the booth opposite who kept looking around at us. He was smiling and waving so I started hiding behind the menus and making him laugh.
It all went well until he put his face on the glass and moved it along, leaving a snotty smudge and then twatted his face on something I didn't see, leading to tears.
Anyway, we waved goodbye and he seemed happy enough when we left. It wasn't a cheap do for just dessert, but worth it anyway and it was probably by far the cheapest option in the mall.
Next Up - Disney Springs
We had to visit Disney Springs for a couple of reasons. Firstly, we wanted to as it was quite a cool place. Secondly, we had to visit customer services to see if the ticket we had found at home last year still had a day's entry for a Disney Park on it.
It was a baking hot day when we went, parking in the closest garage to the shops. Once again, it wasn't as busy as it has been in the past and just wandering around some of the shops it was easy to see why.
We went into the Coca Cola shop, which had some fantastic stuff, but which also was charging prices in the realms of fantasy too. A Christmas tree decoration (single) $20 to $30. A t-shirt $30-$40 and they'd been reduced. A fucking bottle opener was like $15.
We did buy some items because the heat had made us a bit giddy, and we then melted our way over to the Disney Customer Services bit and checked our ticket. The good news was that this ticket did have a full day's entry available for any Disney Park and that meant we did not have to buy entry to a park as with the tickets we had left over from 2022, it meant we had one full day's entry per person to use.
By now, the heat had got to us, so we walked into an Irish restaurant/pub and headed to the bar and ordered a drink each.
They had some Irish singers on and at one point, that turned into an Irish dancer leaping around the stage with a distinct lack of arm movement.
It was so hot that day that by the time we'd walked a bit further, we'd all had enough and headed back to the car to get back home and in the pool to cool off.
At home we decided we'd use the days pass we had left at Hollywood Studios. The reason being the new Star Wars section which we had not seen.
You still have to book yourself into the park, so I booked the four of us in for the forthcoming Friday. The reason being simply that the weather forecast for that day stated that it would be a couple of degrees cooler.
Before that trip though, I needed to complete a bit of work on my laptop, which I had brought along specifically for that purpose. That night, I dutifully got the laptop out ready and put on the dining table. A visible reminder for me to get the work done the next morning.
Breakfast With A Side of Calamity
The next morning dawned and for a change, the weather was absolutely fecking boiling hot. Katharine and my mum once again headed for the sunbeds, my dad wanted to do a bit of fishing before it got even more stupidly fecking boiling hot.
But before that we sat down to breakfast. I think we were having pancakes or water melon or something and alongside our coffee, I had got out the fresh orange juice for us all.
I filled my dad and mum's glasses, then filled mine while Katharine got her glass. She sat down and leaned over so I could fill her glass, which I did and then I turned back around to put the carton of juice back on the table.
And in doing so I knocked over my full glass of orange juice I'd made for myself.
Fortunately, the glass didn't break.
Unfortunately, 90% of the contents of the glass decided to land right on my laptop.
Shiiiittt!
I quickly lifted the laptop up and dabbed it with the kitchen towel Katharine had passed to me, while she soaked up the rest of the spillage.
"It'll be fine. It was only on for a second. And it was closed. And I mopped it all up..." I tried to convince myself. I turned the laptop over in my hands and orange juice glooped out of the side.
"Shit. That's not good..."
I continued mopping around the laptop, going over the keys all the sides, the back, front, screen and everywhere else orange juice could possibly go.
A short time later, after drying the laptop out in the sun, I decided I had to test it and see if it worked. I held down the button to start it and was relieved to hear it fire up.
Then the screen came on with the loading screen.
In the background, the Hallelujah chorus played while I congratulated myself on my speed of thought.
Within seconds the home screen was up and things looked ok. I was very relieved.
"I'll go and get changed and then come back and do my work before I fuck anything else up," I announced going to the bedroom to change my orange juice soaked shorts and T-shirt.
When I came back out in fresh attire, the laptop screen was blank. That's not a concern as it goes off if it isn't used for a short period of time.
No bother, I'll just click a key and it'll come on (click)... it'll come on (click, click)...
I pressed more keys. I could hear the computer going, but nothing was appearing on the screen.
"No. Don't you fucking dare..."
But as you've probably worked out by now, yes I had fucked it up. The orange juice bath is not a productive treatment for Macbooks. I tried to get it to work it several more times over the course of the holiday - all with no luck.
Back in England, My bank manager started to cry.
That left me with my iPad and its folio keyboard to do my work. This meant it took a lot longer to do than it would have on the laptop.
This made me not happy. For a change.
When we got home, there followed a call to the insurers, who took it in to repair or replace. Apple checked it over and confirmed "Err, yeah mate, it's fucked..." and the insurers offered me a pretty much direct 2019 replacement for £1,250, but I had to pay £350 excess.
But I didn't want a laptop that would be obsolete in a year or so given Apple's track record, so I put some money to it to get a better spec and newer model. So that cost me another £700.
That's another grand that my boneheadedness cost me. But, at least I have a new laptop that works. For the time being at least. My bank manager has disowned me and my credit rating is lower than Donald Trump's IQ.
My first search on the laptop was "Where can I sell one of my kidneys and how much for?"
The Scream And Thunderbolts And Lightning Very Very Frightening...
There were two other incidents in the second week of the holiday, both a bit unusual rather than funny. Well, not funny at all, unless you are a sick git like me.
One morning, my mum, dad and Katharine were awoken by a neighbour across the street running out in the street wrapped only in a towel, screaming and almost hyperventilating.
I missed all of this, but apparently, she was screaming for help, turned around and presented her bare arse to anyone this side of the road.
Before we could do anything, we noticed flashing lights and saw the fire, police and ambulance vehicles already there. A policeman went inside while others saw to the woman. A bit later, two paramedics ventured inside and subsequently someone was taken out on a stretcher and whisked away in the ambulance.
We all thought the worst and over the next few days, there were lots of cars at the house and people milling around. Which gave us the impression something serious had happened.
Then one day we got up and saw balloons hanging from their mail box and banners proclaiming a Happy Birthday to someone.
We're not sure if the person made a quick recovery, or it was the shortest mourning period in history, or whether the woman was just a noisy semi-streaker, but at least things seemed to return to normal for them from then on.
Around the same time we had a thunderstorm that came from the south. It wasn't a huge one with frequent flashes of lightning and boundless thunder, but we did have a couple of big lightning strikes that were the very close, instantaneous, exploding ones.
A few minutes after one of those strikes, we saw flashing blue lights once again, this time through the back door by the pool and across the pond. Once again, the police, ambulance and fire trucks were there, and we then saw another two fire trucks arriving on scene.
I suddenly put two and two together and wondered if that massive lightning bolt explosion had anything to do with it. So I went on my lightning tracker app and checked on the most zoomed in map it had of Cumbrian Lakes.
Sure enough, right over the house where the fire, police and ambulance were, was a lightning bolt sign which when clicked on said a cloud to ground strike had hit five minutes or so ago.
We didn't see any smoke, but we're wondering if the bolt fritzed the electrics in the house. Or barbecued someone sat on the loo. Maybe it made their Microwave fritz out when the door opened too. Who knew?
The strike was about 300 yards from the villa where we were staying.
To be honest, the way things were going, I was pretty certain that bolt was meant for us, but Thor was just way too hot and got his aim all wrong. Soft twat. That's what being from Norway is like for you when you venture to Florida.
Anyway, it can't have been too bad as a short time later the emergency services all toddled off back to their stations and the villa was still standing.
Top Golfer At TopGolf
After a strong recommendation from Gill, Dave, Daniel, Jenny, Jack and Molly, who went there the previous year, on Tuesday we headed to Top Golf Orlando.
For those of you who have not been, Top Golf is essentially a driving range with a bit more. Rather than hitting into a field, you are presented with a bunch of targets to aim for at various distances.
Your shot is analysed and how far you hit it, the speed of your swing and other data are shown on the screen and, best of all, there are games you can play using this technology which makes the whole thing a lot more fun.
In addition, you can also order drinks and food to your bay and all the clubs are provided for you to play with.
It's very much like going Ten-Pin bowling, only for golf and we'd booked in on that particular day because it was half price all-day on Tuesdays.
Newcomers pay a one-off $5 charge to become a member, which is a bit money-grabbing, but if you go on a Tuesday at the half-price rate, it is still incredibly good value for money.
And surprisingly good fun too. Even for non-golfers!
On our first visit, we were located on the top tier of the range, which was a bit dizzying for my mother when she ventured out to take her shots.
I refused to play the Angry Birds game as it looked rather childish (but apparently, it's good fun so I should have perhaps done that) and instead loaded up a game where you got points for hitting the targets.
Here's an analysis of the golf swings witnessed that day while we ate our nachos and drank our coke zero and vied for a spot under the fan.
Mum - All arms and shoulders, no doubt due to her bionic hips. Consistency improved quickly after she'd recovered from vertigo and turned the club the right way round.
Dad - Held the club like he was about to try and kill someone. He hit it decently on his half swing, but when he tried to do a more full swing it looked like Rudolf Nureyev was trying to kill a tortoise and failing.
Katharine - Like mum, used her arms and shoulders and was pretty consistent. However found her boobage to present a significant problem when trying to expand her stroke. I did offer to hold them for her, but this request was declined.
Ian - Same as usual. Ok for most shots, but the occasional snap-hook and horrific slice when I tried to hit it harder reared its ugly head. Oh and I won both games we played on our first visit.
In contrast, Janet had got her act together and was continually chipping the ball into the nearby targets. So much so, she made me take a picture of the screen after we'd hit just over a quarter of our balls.
The only problem was that I didn't, and the more I tried to score points, the less likely it seemed I would get any.
Meanwhile, the others were chipping the ball into targets like they were Tiger Woods practising his short game.
And as you can see, after the 20 balls, I had only managed to scramble myself up to second, by chipping into the near nets with the pitching wedge. Shameful I know. If I hadn't have done that, Katharine would have beaten me too.
And if that had happened, that would have been it. I'd have had to spend the rest of the holiday in the Villa with a bag on my head so nobody would recognise me.
Janet, it appears, is now the official Top Golfer. So any golf questions, fire away. Her Facebook messenger and Messaging apps are always open (though not necessarily with her if she goes out. I mean who takes a mobile phone with them when they go out?!)
My dad was in the process of tonking me at fishing, now my mum had beaten me at golf. Katharine's tan was also slightly better than mine too. Add that to all the other things that had happened so far...
In the immortal words of Basil Fawlty... "It's going well, isn't it?"
Oh and one final message:
For Sale - 1 Set of Callaway Rogue X Irons (5-PW), 3 Callaway Wedges (Gap, 56 and 60 degrees), 2 Ping G410 Woods (Driver, 3 Wood) and an Odyssey Putter. Please enquire within.
Disney Hollywood Studios
Friday dawned and surprisingly, it was another baking hot day. The weather forecasters had got it slightly wrong once again and while I can't recall the exact temperature, it was somewhere around the mark where lead starts to melt and people resemble a Salvador Dali painting.
This was the Disney Day. Our one big day out of the holiday. We got up early and in order to ensure we could at least get on some rides, and given we didn't have to pay for an extra ticket to get in, I splurged out on the Genie+ passes for us all.
You can only buy these on the day you visit from 12.01am and by the time I bought ours at 7.30am in the morning ($22 extra each - Kerching a ding dong) the first available time we could book for the Lightning Pass on Smugglers Run (one of the new Star Wars rides) was between 10am and 11am, so I booked us on for that.
My plan was to book the two big new Star Wars rides but when I inspected the Genie +, there was no option to book the Rise of the Resistance Ride. Oh no, Disney had excluded that ride from the Genie + ticket.
But the good news was that if you wanted to avoid the 2 hour plus queues that are common for the ride, you could instead buy yourself a Lightning Lane place for just another $22 per person (Ker ching a ching a ching a ching chong).
Disney are the only place I know that has almost trebled ticket prices in the last decade or so but who have gradually made it so people who buy these stupidly priced tickets can go on fewer and fewer of the rides that they most want to go on.
Hey Mickey you're so tight, you're so tight you blow my mind! Hey Mickey! Hey Mickey!
I declined against spending a further $88 to go on one fucking ride because I have not lost my pissing mind.
Then I looked to book a restaurant for us for lunch. It is expensive, but it is also a great way to get out of the heat of the day for an hour or so and have a sit down.
There were three dine-in options available to me at Disney Hollywood Studios. A new Star Wars restaurant which had a vacancy for lunch at 8.30am, or we could book lunch for 1.20pm... on Friday December 24th 2035.
There was also the Sci-Fi dine in restaurant which looked perfect for us, but once again, the only vacancies it had for lunch were first thing in the morning.
Lastly, there was an Italian restaurant. Urgh. A problem. I know my parents don't like Italian food. But it had a couple of free tables at 1pm for lunch.
I told everyone that this was our only option for lunch in the air-con and with no real dissent and mumbles of "I'm sure they'll have something we will eat..." I booked it, rather than have to queue at a more casual eaterie, pay $125 for four burgers and then sit in the heat to eat.
Everything now booked, we left early to get to the park as the gates opened and after paying the $20-odd dollars for the privilege of parking on the standard Disney lot (kerching) rather than the $50 dollars for 'privileged parking' (kerching-ching), we were ushered into our space not too far from the main entrance.
But in this heat, the walk to the entrance was enough to melt your sunglasses to your face anyway.
American's clearly haven't got queuing down to a fine art. It's all the space there I think. For some reason, the first three or four entries into the park were chock-a-block with people in a huge long queue.
Walk 15 yards to the right of that though and there were four more entries open with the operators begging people to come through their open and near empty gates.
I'm guessing they weren't so popular because the American guests couldn't drive those 15 yards to get there.
However as steely-eyed Brits, we walked over and then remembered we needed a mobility scooter. ($20 plus $50 deposit - Ker-ching!). Fortunately, the kiosk for rentals was located just to the right of the entry booths we were to go through.
So it wasn't all bad luck this holiday.
The lady at the scooter rental place rattled off a long list of things you couldn't do with the scooter, which was everything bar drive it. She then got my dad to sign a form which basically said if anything happened it wasn't Disney's fault.
Also, if you slightly damaged a scooter, then you'd effectively owe Disney your lungs, kidneys, two of your children, house, car and a space shuttle filled with quarters.
Scooter sorted we went into the park and because we'd been out in the heat for 20 minutes, we were all parched. So a drink each was required ($30 or thereabouts for two waters, and two coke zeros - double kerching with extra fizz). We also met Cyril the Squirrel, who was very tame. I half expected to be charged $30 for him coming to see us.
Our main reason for heading to Hollywood Studios was to see the new Star Wars section, so we followed the crowds and as we walked towards it, we saw the old Star Wars ride only had a short ten minute wait.
"Shall we get on this for old times' sake?" I asked. My mum and Katharine thought it was a good idea. Blairty parked the scooter and followed us on.
We waltzed through, speeding past the usual queue area outside and stopped for a picture from underneath the AT-AT; a view that Luke Skywalker would have had when his Snowspeeder crashed in Empire Strikes Back.
I was disappointed to note a ladder up the AT-AT's leg, so why Luke fucked about with his rope thing to climb up to the main body is beyond me.
Anyway, a short time later we were taken into the ride itself and noted that instead of a generic robot who was in control the last time we rode this ride; instead it was C3P0 that was our guide, along with Artoo Detoo in his usual Astromech slot on the back of the "ship".
It was still a motion-master ride but it had been upgraded significantly from the older ride we'd last been on ten years or so ago. It featured new footage and adventures taken from the newer films in the series.
About 15 seconds in, I discovered my own scientific equation - no breakfast + taking my pills + just a fizzy coke zero drink + a motion master ride = a startlingly quick urge to vomit.
So as the ride whizzed and careered around, I kept looking at the wall or closing my eyes for a bit. I didn't think the person in front would want to spend the day at Disney with regurgitated Coke Zero and carrots in their hair.
Anyway, the ride ended without me hurling copiously and I still enjoyed it. As we left the ride went through the Gift Shop with bargains such as a Star Wars Key Ring for $20 (ker ching a ring a rama), I said "Did we all enjoy that?".
"Yes!" said Katharine.
"Yes!" said Janet.
"No." said Blairty "It was a Motion Master, You know I don't like Motion Master rides."
"Well why the fuck did you go on it then?" said my mum.
Blair decided not to say anything and sloped off back to get the Scooter. I'd already ruined his day by suggesting to go on this ride it seemed.
It's always lovely to spend so much time and money organising a day out to be greeted so enthusiastically by one of your party within half an hour of the day starting.
It was already clear that Blairty was not going to enjoy his day at the park and true to form, he didn't bother with any other rides after that one (bar one). He spent most of the day in the scooter, trying to find shade or following us around like a grumpy and depressed Davros.
His highlight of the day was speaking to an American chap who worked in Miami fixing trucks and who offered him a glass of iced water. True to form, Blairty embraced this unifying moment of friendship by turning him down, despite it being hot and thirsty weather.
Anyway, after the old Star Wars ride, we headed the wrong way around the park and ended up in Toyland, the new Toy Story themed bit of the park.
The Slinky Dog Rollercoaster was out of order all day and Disney felt the need to employ four staff to stand outside it to tell people who could not understand signs such as:
The Slinky Dog Ride is Not Operational at the Moment and We Don't Know When It Will Open Today. Please Do Not Queue.
El Slinky Dog Ride-o is Kaput-o. El fucked up-o and we not-a-know when it open again-o. So no bother arse queuing-o. You just waste your time-o and we'll probably charge you for it anyway-o.
Der Slinky Dog Ride Ist Kaput! Nein Verking! Go Avay!
Le Slinky Chien Ride est fecked. Au Revoir!
...that the ride was not working.
We noted at this point that we had an hour until our Star Wars Smugglers Run Lightning Lane time and that there was a 50 minute queue for the new Toy Story 4D ride.
It was a shooting game/ride, based on the Toy Story franchise and, as with all Disney things, it was superbly done with games in the queue for kids to do located on the walls and displays.
We also had Mr Potato Head (the character, not my dad, but there is a strong resemblance) regale us with some songs as we were waiting.
This wasn't a motion master ride, but more like a mobile arcade where you sit in a cart and are whisked around four or five different Toy-Story themed shooting games. The aim is to beat your opponent sat in your car with you.
I sat with Katharine and heading into the final game, I had eked out a small lead over my wife... I was particularly adept at one of the games...
However in the final game, she comprehensively whupped my arse to beat me by a couple of thousand points, thus keeping up my fine winning streak in competitive games on this holiday.
It wasn't really a ride as such, but it was still great fun and ideal for all guests of all ages. Well worth a look, but get there early as the wait (unless you do a Lighting Lane pass) is usually at least an hour and is often more than 90 minutes.
We'd timed it perfectly for our Smuggler Run lightning lane time, so we headed over. Blairty decided since this was likely another Motion Master ride, he'd give it a miss.
It is stunning down to the smallest of detail and for any Star Wars fan, it is something to geek over while enjoying some Bantha Blue Milk or a smoking frothy drink from the Cantina. "Just watch your step, this place can be a little rough."
For one moment, I thought I saw our Andy there too and snapped a picture, but it was just Chewbacca on a walk-around meet and greet.
The standard queue for Smuggler's Run was already an hour, but with our Lightning Lane passes we breezed past those in the queue and into the heart of what was supposed to be a docking bay and which looked and sounded exactly like it.
It wasn't long before we were being taken aboard the Millennium Falcon for our trip and here Disney had gone into overdrive with the detail. Everything looked like the Falcon, even the floorboards looked and, most amazingly, sounded like the Falcon.
You went into a waiting area (below) where the famous chess board was on show. You can have your photo taken with it if you like. I just snapped a quick one. That's because our group of five were being given roles. Katharine and I were pilots, my mum was a gunner and the two other people seated behind us were the mechanics.
Soon, you are allowed through into the cockpit of the Falcon. Down the corridor round a bend and out into the familiar semi-circle cockpit windows. The controls looked identical. It was astonishing how accurate it was.
Soon the adventure began. Katharine and I piloting the ship (she controlled left and right, I controlled up and down) and we had to pull levers to hit hyperspace and also buttons to put the shields up as well as steer the ship.
My mum was blasting the Tie Fighters coming in to attack us, while the other two people tried to lock onto the big boxes we were meant to be stealing to bring them aboard so we could take them to our Rebel hideout. So it was a team game.
We were utterly crap at it. Our score was in the lowest 20% of scores. Another feather in the cap there too!
But the ride was astonishingly good. But not $22 per person good.
We met up with the depressed Davros outside and walked through the new Star Wars section in full. It was amazing and so were the prices. I got a Sprite in a plastic and very cheap-looking thermal detonator shaped container for the fantastic value of just 9 dollars. Standard bottles of water were $7.
After using our first Lightning Lane pass, we could use another one. So I clicked on it and saw the Tower of Terror available from 12 - 1pm. So I booked us on that. The queue for the other Star Wars ride Rise of the Rebellion was now at 120 minutes. It would grow from there during the day.
I was starting to understand why people paid $22 each when I looked at the depressed, unbearably hot, grouchy and sweating faces of the people in the queue who still had almost two hours to wait to get on it. My dad would have fitted in perfectly.
That's if the ride didn't break down of course. As that's another thing Disney don't tell you. These new rides are technologically incredible and advanced, but with that, comes a high chance of a breakdown. And this ride breaks down a lot, several times a day, or so it seems from the reviews.
Incidentally, the Aerosmith Rock and Roller-Coaster was also out of action this day for mechanical reasons. Another of the major rides not an option. All of which of course increases the wait times on other rides.
By now, we needed a break from the heat and with half an hour or so to the Tower of Terror lightning lane time, we found ourselves by the Muppet Theatre, with a show just about to start.
We parked the buggy and went in. Not because we wanted to see this particular show (we'd seen it a few times before), but for the blissful air-conditioned arena, which you spent 15 or so minutes in.
This will be a ride scheduled for an update as it is looking tired now compared to some of the newer rides. By now, I would not have cared if we spent 15 minutes looking at Miss Piggy being made into sausages, so long as it was in the air con.
We came out and then consulted the map and thanks to my high quality planning skills, realised we were about as far from the Tower of Terror as it is possible to be.
Brilliantly, I also noted that we were currently right by the restaurant that I'd booked for lunch at 1pm.
So that meant that we'd have to walk the full width of the park to get to the Tower of Terror, then when we'd finished there, we'd have the full width of the park to walk back for lunch.
By now, my popularity rating had dropped so I was in between Judas Iscariot and Piers Morgan on the list.
The Tower of Terror remains good fun, if a little tired looking now. They seem to have shortened the first part of the ride a little, but increased the number of drops you have in the second. Apparently, to maintain some degree of surprise to those who ride it more than once, the number and size of drops you have on any given ride is randomised now too.
All I know is that on that ride, I almost became indecently disrobed due to my mother deciding the best thing to do was hang on tightly to my shorts as we dropped like a stone. I could feel them sliding down and was concerned on subsequent drops that I'd moon the family behind us.
On the drop where they took a photo of the car, I doffed my cap to the Camera, while trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.
When we disembarked, the people behind us excitedly went up to the camera and one of them remarked in a broad Yorkshire accent... "Uh no... You can't even t'see t'dad's face."
That was my fault too as you can see from the picture we snapped of the official disney photo. That was because we didn't want to spend another $40 or whatever it was (Ker Ching a Wingle) on the actual Disney picture itself. We're bottom right.
Tower of Terror done. Trousers back on, police dealt with and Blairty having chatted with his American chum, we came back out and set about the trudge back to the restaurant.
It was slow going in the heat but we still arrived about 15 minutes early. We sat down on a chair to rest and have a drink but after 5 minutes, the sun was so fierce, I decided to check in early in the hope they could take us to our table.
I was glad we booked as the main foyer was packed with people who hadn't but who wanted a table and were waiting. I gave in our name and after a short wait, we were ushered through in front of those in the foyer. Some giving us looks like "Hey, we were here way before them and they get a seat?!!?"
I felt zero guilt. They'd probably wanted the cheaper eat outside option, that was until they realised your ice cream melted like the chaps face at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
So next time you go, book a restaurant for lunch beforehand, ideally years beforehand, and don't give us daggers for waltzing in straightaway while your waiting!
The Italian Incident
The four of us were seated at our table and handed a menu by a rather pleasant waitress who, for a change, proved to be surprisingly competent.
She brought water to the table for us and took our drinks order quickly. Soon we had them in front of us and were enjoying its thirst-quenching coolness.
Now came the time to order our food. We'd decided beforehand that we'd not have starters as this place was stupidly expensive compared to any other restaurant we'd been to so far on holiday.
Unfortunately, as it was an Italian restaurant, the entrees were all pasta based or had some form of pasta/polenta element. This therefore would pose a problem.
"I don't know what I'm ordering here...:" said Blairty in his usual cheerful tone.
"Well why not get the steak?" I said, to which he shook his head.
"I'm getting the pork chop, then if I don't like the polenta, I won't eat it. Get that." said my mum.
Katharine was having Prawn linguini dish in a cheesy sauce. The most pasta-heavy dish on the menu.
The waitress came over. "Are you ready to order?" - All except Blairty we were and we gave her our orders.
I had a small rib eye, mum the pork chop, Katharine the Prawn pasta dish.
Blairty still perused the menu with a look on his face like he was choosing which bollock to have chopped off with a rusty hacksaw.
"I'll have the Prawn pasta too," he said glumly, which amazed us all.
"Are you sure you want that? There's a lot of pasta in that?" said Katharine.
"You won't like that. Get the pork chop, you'll eat that..." said my mum.
No, Like it or not, Blairty was having the prawns, so I quickly motioned to the waitress over.
"Look, I know this is heresy and this is an Italian restaurant...but my dad doesn't like pasta much. Is there a way you can do him the prawns in sauce but with maybe some fries or similar?" I asked hopefully.
"Sir, I'm sorry, err...we don't have any... potatoes." she said with a smile.
I was inclined to tell here there was a fucking huge one singing in the queue on the Toy Story ride, or that almost every other restaurant in the parks did have fries, but hey ho.
Drinks were refreshed and it wasn't long until the mains were with us.
"Here's your pork chop madam, and here's your steak sir." she said putting the plates in front of my mum and I.
"And sir here's your Prawns and heres your Prawns too ma'am" she said putting them in front of my dad and Katharine.
As she put my dads down in front of him, Blairty did his usual trick of looking at the food on his plate like she'd served him Jeremy Clarkeson's arsehole in sparrows vomit, then rolling his eyes with a look of thinly disguised contempt and anguish on his face.
I mean, I don't know what he was expecting to get considering what he had ordered. That was pasta and prawns and he was given pasta and prawns, but he didn't like it (later describing it as a 'plate of vomit').
"Oh Gawd..." I said in response to his eye-rolling and face pulling,"...Do you want my steak instead and I'll have your pasta?" I offered.
Well for some reason this triggered Blairty. His dummy was well and truly spat out as he raged "Oh, do you know, I'm fucking fed up of you getting at me Ian, every bloody time I say anything. I can't do anything without you having a go..." he said, dropping his cutlery on the table as he stood up to leave the restaurant, muttering about how I was such a twat in every conceivable way.
"Sit Down!" said my mum to him between gritted teeth. The poor waitress smiled, but it was clear in her eyes that she was wishing she was someplace else.
Blairty though wasn't for turning and off he stormed out of the restaurant.
In later discussions, he told us he wasn't happy that I'd booked the Italian place as he doesn't like Italian food. "Why did I react like that?", "Because you don't like pasta.", "And where were we at?", "An Italian restaurant", "Thank-you, you knew I didn't like Italian..."
Therefore, It was my fault for booking us into one and I'd done it obviously to upset him because that's how I get my kicks on holiday.
It was also my fault for offering him my steak. It was my fault that the other two restaurants were fully booked up and unavailable for us to go to. I was also to blame for the fact he ordered prawn pasta and received prawn pasta and not, presumably, fish and chips.
Therefore it was indubitably my fault that he stood outside while we ate our delicious lunch.
In truth, it wasn't as enjoyable as it should have been. The three of us inside feeling horrendously embarrassed as to what had happened, and thankful that the restaurant was quite dark. This was so nobody could see the face of the evil genius who had came up with this Anti-Blair Machiavellian scheme.
The waitress kindly offered to put his lunch in a take-away box for us, which she did after declining the suggestion by my mum to go and throw it at him outside.
With the atmosphere now soured, we were all feeling a bit pissed off as to what had happened. So, for the only time on holiday and against what we had originally planned. We ordered some dessert.
Or as mum put it:- "Fuck him, he can wait all bloody day for all I care."
I had two scoops of ice cream and enjoyed them immensely. We finished our drinks, paid the bill (double what we paid in some restaurants, and that was with just one drink each and no starters - Ker fucking pasta-inspired meltdown - ching).
Then as we were walking out we noticed people moving quickly outside with their rain ponchos on.
It was raining, we noted. We're quick like that.
We got outside and saw Blairty under an umbrella as it literally bucketed down. By now my mum was literally ready to kill my dad, so we kind of just wandered down towards a shelter as the rain now turned into a rather violent thunderstorm, complete with some proper lightning too.
I had booked us onto a third attraction using the Lightning Pass while we were in the restaurant, the Indiana Jones show, which was to start about 45 minutes after we left the restaurant.
However, with lightning ripping across the sky at regular intervals and thunder making stupid people scream (why scream at thunder? It can't hurt you. The lightning can but you make no fucking noise when you see that. In fact you love it. Bloody idiots) we kind of decided that Thor had said our day was coming to an end.
To be honest, after the restaurant debacle, I don't think any of us had the heart to carry on. It had put a dampener on the day to say the least and the thunderstorm just decided to depict it for us in a more overtly gratuitous way.
As we stood under the awning of a closed shop, the depressed, now-dumb, Davros drove up in his mobile cart and stopped, still saying nothing. We walked on through the park in the rain getting pleasantly wet after the heat, although my mum wasn't too keen on it.
Katharine whispered to me that she regretted wearing her white t-shirt. I told her that seeing as I'd nearly been de-bagged on the Tower of Terror, nobody would notice.
By the exit of the park a Disney employee using hand signals rather than his voice for some very weird reason, indicated where my dad would take back the mobility scooter. Katharine went with him as my Mum and I soldiered on towards the car.
Splitting them up seemed the sensible way to go.
Katharine asked if Blair wanted his lunch which had been boxed up, to which he stubbornly replied "No". So the $30 meal, plus the $10 pint of beer he'd ordered, all went in the bin. (Ker-fucking-plunk).
By now my mum and I were drenched and wandering through expanding puddles as we looked for our parking lot.
My mum was also feeling it with her hips and at one point, decided to wander off up the Premium Parking lot as if in a fever dream.
I called her back and after a lengthy walk, we found the car and a short time later, Katharine and my Dad turned up and got into their seats.
I would like to say it was an incident-free journey home, but at one point on the way out of Disney there is a very, very sharp corner that you are meant to take at 25mph.
Only I didn't see this sign as I was watching the lightning and wondering where we were going to hide the sharp cutlery from my mum to stop her eviscerating Blairty when we got back.
I wasn't going super-fast, only around 35mph or so, when I suddenly felt the car start to slide on me.
"Whoa! What the fuck!"
The car then righted itself, but then went again in the opposite way!
I was wrestling with the wheel, deliberately not hitting the breaks as the car skidded back and forth, weaving around the road.
"Jeezzus!" I said as the car eventually righted itself as I took my foot of the gas pedal and the speed cut down.
I avoided the screams and swearing in the back of the car by pretending they didn't happen and that I'd meant it all along. I was regaled with comments like "What fantastic driving!", "How you masterfully controlled that dangerous situation was incredible" but masked in the form of "You fucking dickhead!", "Are you trying to kill us?", "Fucking hell, I'm never getting in a car with him at the wheel again" or something like that.
"It was just one of the rides. And you didn't have to pay $22 for the privilege" I said trying to pretend it was all under control.
After some oxygen, a stiff drink, booking in for therapy and me promising not to drive anywhere else at over 5mph, the three passengers were fine. I think. Or they will be at some point. Hopefully. I'll find out when they can speak again.
Anyway, we got back to the villa alive and Blairty was still shunning us with silence, or was too afraid to speak incase my mum beheaded him with her latest Harlen Coben novel.
I wasn't sure which, but when we got back, the Thunderstorm had dissipated ,and it was stupidly hot and sunny once again.
The ladies hit the poolside, while I decided what to order for tea, while being shunned by Blairty.
I guessed it probably wasn't wise to order Italian. Though, I was fucking tempted.
I'd kind of got used to being commented upon in a diverse but negative way on holiday. It's Blairty's speciality.
For example, when I drove after we went shopping a few times, and went around the corner, the shopping we had in the back of the car slid on the carpet and made a noise of shopping sliding around the back of a car.
"There goes the shopping..." he'd say. Clearly indicating that this was me being an arse and causing severe damage to the plums and bottles of water.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I have to do this thing called steering in America to avoid plunging nose first into Chick-A-Fil-A"
My favourite is the Blair Stare which I get whenever we went somewhere, usually a supermarket, when he felt that this trip was probably unnecessary. Or he hadn't heard why someone wanted to go there.
What would happen is that I'd wander off in the shop with Katharine in tow usually and I'd turn around to see where my Mum and Dad were.
My mum would be looking happily at things as we wandered. My Dad, would just stare at me with a look on his face that kind of said "Well, you've brought me to this fucking place, what are you going to do now? This is a waste of fucking time, when I could be at home playing on my iPad, you twat!"
Anyway, I've digressed a bit there, so let's get back to Mickey and Donald and company.
We spent $88 on passes, one of which my Dad never actually got any benefit from. I dread to think how much we spent on drinks at the park. My Mum and Dad were now set for either (a) divorce, (b) a ritual beheading or (c) a swim in the lake with my dad smeared in fish paste and alligator attractant.
Everyone was a fed up, and we felt ripped off.
So Walt, your parks are great. The attractions, especially the new ones, are utterly brilliant. However, your prices are, frankly, fucking ridiculous.
Your Genie + is a rip off. Your $22 per person to ride the best ride at a park within a reasonable time is not just a rip off, but insulting. Especially after what people pay to get in, then have to fork out for massively overpriced food, drinks and other merchandise.
The wait times on rides for standard passengers are getting longer because more people are buying the passes to ensure they get on certain rides.
Then when it comes to boarding a new ride, you fill 80% of the ride with the Lightning Lane customers and 20% with those in the 2 hour queue.
You have now created the 'haves and have nots' of Disney. It's shit, unfair and daylight robbery given what people spend to come in. And the parking charges are an absolute joke too you robbing rodent recidivist.
And it's crap value for money compared to Universal Studios, I have to say.
So I won't be heading to Disney again any time soon. The Magic has gone.
Mickey is taking the Michael. Donald is tight as a ducks' arse and Pluto is taking the piss.
There's talk that Florida's governor wants Disney out of the state, because they supported the Pride movement. I am guessing Disney aren't too bothered. I've been reliably informed they are seriously considering pulling out of the state and moving to a brand new site in North Carolina, as ridiculous as that sounds.
With the prices they charge, they could afford to relocate it to the fucking moon.
Other Things That Happened Of Note...
It does sound like the holiday was a disaster from start to finish, but we still actually had some great time out there. My mum and Katharine got in plenty of reading and almost wall to wall sunbathing across the holiday. The Villa and Pool were superb, the car was great (the driver was a bit shite), we had some lovely meals out and some lovely days out too.
Other things we did that were interesting were:
Congo River Rapids Golf - We went in the evening after a meal out when it was going to be 'cooler'. Yeah right. After 18 holes of crazy golf, the four of us looked like we'd just completed an SAS 24-hour route march. And the cost was only the 80-odd dollars for the four of us. Plus $20 for four drinks, which lasted until hole four. Even though it was evening, it was still in the mid-30s and so humid, it was more a trial of endurance than a fun game of golf. We declined to buy Alligator food to feed the gators as I hadn't taken out a second mortgage to do so.
A Trip to Manny's Chop House in Haines City - Manny's has closed its two outlets near Kissimmee and Orlando so the nearest one is the original restaurant in Haines City. It's a half hour drive from the villa but well worth it. We drove down a different road to usual, south of the 192, and through some real hick parts of Florida. 
We passed a trailer park in Intercession City which had a sign that read "Fuck Paedo Joe! Trump 2024!" which gives you an idea of what it was like. However, the restaurant was superb as always. Great value ($100 for the entire meal including drinks for all four of us) huge portions, fabulous friendly service. Well worth a trip.
Other restaurants we loved were the 192 Crab Shack, which has its own robotic member of staff who shows you to your table. We had an immense Seafood Boil there which we could make up ourselves. Again, great value for money (another around the $100-120 mark) and incredible seafood. 
Some of the other restaurants we went to that served great food at good value for money included the Texas Roadhouse, Outback Steakhouse, Cafe Tu Tu Tango, Chilis, Waffle House (I prefer here to IHOP now), Applebees (below) and Logan's Roadhouse.
So What Does Florida Do Well?
I know it sounds like everything was shit, but there's still a number of things Florida does very well.
You can find cheap shopping at the bargain shops like Ross Dress for Less, Burlington and similar. Walmart and Target are cheaper options than Publix for food (though not by much).
We found eating out, or ordering in, was no more expensive than buying food and cooking it yourself. Eating out represented good value for money in general than in the UK. Delivering in less so once you add on the service charge, delivery charge and 10-20% tip.
Beer is relatively cheap. Some spirits are phenomenally cheap, especially Vodka and Southern Comfort.
Lemonade and Orange Juice. Both delicious, even the sugar free options. Walmart and Target proved to be cheaper than Publix by a considerable margin. Dollar Store and similar are good for some items too.
The people are generally friendly. The drivers are generally far nicer and more polite than in the UK. There's still the odd nutter, but the way the roads are organised and how things work, I find much better than in the UK. I much prefer driving in Florida than at home now.
The aircon in buildings is fantastic, the beaches are beautiful (though we didn't get to one this year, we have been in the past and they are amazing, especially on the Gulf Coast with warm waters).
The golf is excellent if you are a keen golfer and the widespread use of buggies makes things much easier. Fishing is good, especially if you are on a private community and don't need a Florida license to fish the lakes.
Orlando International Airport - Terminal C - The new terminal is so much better designed than the other two older terminals. No need for a tram to take you to the car parks and car hire places. You collect your bag before Border Security not after, which makes the queues so much smaller and faster. Loved how this was organised.
Aer Lingus - Miles better than Virgin. Seats still small but much more comfy. Cabin crew were fab.
Cool Whip - Still the best foodstuff ever to be invented. Even the fat-free version.
...And What's The Crap?
Less impressive is how expensive most things are, from food shopping, household items, some restaurants and bars. Books are stupidly expensive, which kind of explains why most Americans don't bother reading any.
Toiletries are ridiculously expensive. Bring your own in your stowed luggage. Especially shampoo/conditioner, deodorant, toothpaste, razors and shaving cream.
Hawkers in the Florida Mall dragging you to go and see their stupid bloody things. They really get on my tits.
Beggars at major road intersections who look at you with a miserable face. Unfortunately for them, having spent the past couple of years with my dad living with us, we were all impervious to their long-suffering looks of misery.
Slushee type cocktail drinks that are so cold they give you brain freeze.
The Flea Markets are depressingly lacking nowadays. They used to be great and a place to get some real bargains. Now one has closed completely and the other has gone right downhill. And every stall is almost the same as the other. Very sad to see.
Oh, and dying. When we were there some fella went mental in a hotel up by Universal Studios at the top of International Drive and shot a policeman before being killed himself. There's other regular similar stories on the news and it brings things into focus when you realise that for every Floridian you see, they have an average of 1.2 guns per person.
ESTA's - Pay every two years for the privilege of visiting America. Then have vague rules about it without letting people know how it works. Just another way to fleece holidaymakers.
Donald Trump - Everyone loves him in Florida, bar the Governor who is just to the right of Hitler himself. It's hard biting your tongue when you see all the paraphernalia shit supporting him.
Chocolate - American chocolate is almost uniformly awful, except for 3 Musketeers Bars which are like Milky Way's used to be, only thicker.
The Rise of the Weed Houses - Want some cannabis? Well, now it's legal there's loads of 'smoke shops' dotted around the place. Titty bars are also on the increase too. Not great to explain to the kids what they are on the way to Disney. "Yes mum and dad are off to get a lapdance while wazzed up to the hilt on Moroccan Brainfoamer".
The I4 - every single route direction you get involved going on the I4 at some point. Don't ever do it as it is just a car park from around Universal Studios in the North down to Champions Gate in the South. Just use the maps and go on the local roads.
Car Hire Places - Absolutely taking the piss. Not just with car hire but insurance (over £900 insurance for me and K to drive the car for 3 weeks. I pay less than that for both of us for a year on our two Jags at home). And that was the CHEAP insurance option.
Oh and then they try and flog you extra insurance and best of all their Toll Road service which for just $50 a day means you can go on any toll roads without worry! I think we spent less than $15 on toll roads over the entire 3 weeks. Robbing sodding assholes who make you wait an eternity before trying to fleece you blind.
Epilogue
And that was pretty much it. The third week was relatively incident free. My dad survived my mum, we got on the airplane without any incident and the journey home was fine.
However, there was a little twist in the tail. Over the last few days of the holiday, I'd developed a dry cough. Annoying, but with no cold symptoms at all, it lingered on the flight back.
We got back and I took a COVID test. It came back negative. Thank goodness for that.
That night I went to bed and woke up sweating profusely, ridiculously so. I was so hot. I kicked off the bed sheets and fell asleep again. A short time later, I woke up freezing cold, so much so I was dithering.
I had felt this about two years or so before.
So, I took another Covid test the following morning.
Hello inevitable test result - two lines of Covid doom.
So yes, I'd caught Covid over there and not only that, I passed it on to my mum too who had similar symptoms. I'd also sat on a plane filled with people unknowingly contagious.
"You'll have to write about this and tell people what happened," said my Mum and Katharine repeatedly after the holiday.
So I did, and today is the final piece of resistance to end the holiday happenings:-
Katharine's school got the Ofsted call this morning.
Next year, we're going to fucking Talacre.
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