united states of errol part 3: fairytale rehab

Because we just knew that post-cruise we’d want to have a few days of not getting blind and inappropriate, we planned it so Florida’s Disneyworld would be the next leg of our trip. Crafty right? We should start The Oh Errol Travel Agency for Drunks, where we send you off to a wholesome location at the end of your itinerary to wash away all your sins.

So we battled Miami airport again, where Sassy proudly showed off newfangled cultural knowledge by ordering a cafe con leche with ease, and got on a flight to Orlando.

[Turns out: it's just COFFEE WITH MILK. - Sassy]

Our flight was made by a fierce male attendant who cracked himself up over the PA, and scored a pair of sunnies that someone had left behind. And by ‘someone’ I mean ‘a lady’.

Lured by the promise of alligators playing instruments, we opted to stay at Disney’s Port Orleans Resort. Off we went on the Magical Express, which is a fancy name for a Disney themed airport shuttle where you have to tip your bus driver. TIP THE GOD DAMN BUS DRIVER.

We were so pissed off about it we used our Australian Initiative and refused any help with our bags. It’s ok, we’re Australian! Rusty probably carries his own luggage! Turns out our room was REALLY FAR and involved crossing a pool of some kind but we did save 5 bucks and make a point in the process (to ourselves). TAKE THAT AMERICA.

We never found those friggin alligators, but we DID find an extensive array of Disney merchandise right there in our resort. Even Lozzy, who is usually the cheapest most restrained of us, lost her damn mind in that gift shop and walked out 100 bucks poorer. Our best find? Kiki and Lozzy’s MATCHING SPANGLY ZAC EFRON WATCHES.

Oh yes, those are glittered bands! We think this was a finishing touch to the design. Like the merch makers had the face all decked out with diamantes, but they sent it off to Zeffie for final approval and he was all ‘needs more spangles’.

Our first day was spent at the Magic Kingdom, which really IS quite magical.

We knew it would be because on the way in, one of the staff members complimented Sassy – who was wearing a Led Zeppelin shirt with her newly purchased princess hat – on her ‘shirt and hat combination’. It was awesome.

Oh yeah, we wore Disney themed hats and ears all day. It was v inconvenient having to take them off for rides. Hat hair is a bitch.

We went on the teacups (which by the way feels JUST LIKE BEING DRUNK.  take note children: this is your future) got wishing dust in our hair and rode Space Mountain, and then toddled off to the Epcot Center for lunch in fake Mexico. Lunch with margaritas. For some reason everything we did after lunch was just that little! bit! more! fun!.

Unfortunately our day went downhill when Kiki suggested we go on something she remembered as being all fun and sciencey, but since then has apparently been turned into THE MOST TERRIFYING SHIT EVS. See for yourselves. We had to sit on that bloody thing with no escape for like 8 minutes. It was like in The Simpsons when they go to Duff Gardens and Lisa’s hallucinating on the “Duff Beer for me, Duff Beer for you, I’ll have a Duffff, you have one too” ride.

And it turns out that one day is pretty much the limit on the magic of Disney.  One day, that’s it. After twenty four hours you start to wonder whether anyone has ever gone postal at Disneyworld. We say … likely. We just thank god we were too lazy to kick any of the whingy little kids in the shins because we don’t trust that American justice system. WE’VE SEEN THE FUGITIVE YOU KNOW.

So we spent our second day in Disney’s Animal Kingdom, looking at animalz and trying to avoid being run over by all the people riding motorised complimentary Disneyworld scooters while eating ice creams.  We are not kidding.  Blah blah cute animals blah, but do you know what? They would still be cute if the whole of the Animal Kingdom wasn’t massively offensive.

Americans get a bad rap for not being the most culturally aware of cats but this shit was ridiculous. You can visit ‘Africa’ where all the buildings are made to look old and shitty and falling apart – from violence that NATO has done nothing to stop, perhaps? – and all the signs are spelt wrong (because Africans can’t speak English properly, of course) and miserable-looking black people from like, Detroit, have to dress up in feathers and do completely made-up ‘African’ dances in the fictional land of Harambe.  Those bitches probably have college educations.

Apparently ‘Asia’ is also just like Africa in the sense that it’s just one big country where everything is ‘Asian’ and you can buy egg rolls from a cart with Indian writing on it. We know the peeps like all that tribal wilderness stuff, but this has kinda passed kitsch and headed right into demeaning.  You know lots of Africans speak English, right?  They just have different accents. They’re not cavemen. It’s total cultural imperialism and really noble savage-y and patronising and made us feel icky in our fat, fat, ranch dressing bellies.

So here’s a little tip from us to you: don’t ever go to the Animal Kingdom if you have an arts degree and/or have ever been anywhere in Asia or Africa.  You will deadset have a stress-induced stroke.

PS – We say this with love, but a country where you have to tip bus drivers probably shouldn’t be implying anyone is backwards. Just sayin … nobody’s perfect. RAISE THE MINIMUM WAGE ALREADY AMERICA.

Now that rage is out of the system … stay tuned for the massive super-partytimes finale edition of the United States of Errol: The One Where We Meet the Jacksonville Axemen. It was one of our fave parts of the trip, and you will love love love it.</p