We just got back from a week-long voyage on the new Disney cruise ship, the Fantasy. It was, wait for it…. fantastic. Ack, that was painfully bad. Guess I’ll just leave it there though, since I need to pad this post out. So the trip was good. Pretty good. Pretty damn good. I liked it, anyway. Helps that we went with some friends who had their own children along, so we could experience the awe and wonder of the little ones in small, doctor-approved doses, and then go off and be our usual carefree, irresponsible selves. Wow, when you’re a parent you have to be like, a totally, or at least a reasonably responsible adult, all the time. Seems very tiring.
So just a few random observations, besides the parenting equals terminal fatigue one above.
Disney has obviously decided that open combat over dress codes in the dining rooms is futile. I feared a general descent into wife-beater shirts, gimme hats, ragged shorts and flip flops during the evening meals, followed by a breakdown in the social order, leading into mass chaos and open rebellion. Disappointingly, none of this came to pass. Slob chic was on display, sure, but torch wielding crowds and clouds of tear gas, were not in evidence. Perhaps at the late seating? The higher end specialty restaurants (Palo and Remy), did hold the line, especially Remy, where our friend’s pleas to be allowed to wear jeans (but they’re dressy jeans!) instead of dress slacks were met with a polite but firm refusal. Good show, chaps! And chapettes!
Disney offers unlimited soda on board, and there seems to be a soda fountain around every corner. I fondly imagined that deep in the ship’s holds there are large bunkers labeled: diesel fuel, desalinated water, ballast, Coke, Sprite, Diet Coke, etc. And glitter.
We tried early seating for the first time ever, since we were accompanied by young folks, and they had even younger toddlers. Wow, what a change! First, I like to have a cocktail before dinner, because it’s what civilized people do, or so I argue, but even for me, 5:00pm is pushing the envelope a trifle. Not that it stopped me, just caused me to actually ponder briefly before ordering that second cocktail. On the other hand, we actually saw one of the live shows, which isn’t something we normally get a chance to do, because they’re offered before dinner for the late seating and that would cut into valuable cocktail imbibing time. So since you normally finish dining around 6:30 or 7:00 in the early seating, this leaves plenty of time to go to a show, or get some after dinner cocktails. Which are important so that one can reach equilibrium with the pre-dinner libations. Balance in all things, and all that rot.
I’ve never understood the appeal of pools on cruise ships, but as in so many things, I’m apparently the odd one out here. The pools on the earlier ship, the Dream, were so popular, that Disney added several more on the Fantasy. The adult pools are a special strangeness. First, they are, as advertised, adult only, on a cruise ship that is owned and operated by a company whose entire raison d’être is marketing every thing under the sun to kids. But even adults need a little me time, I suppose. Personally, I need loads and loads of me time. The adult pools seem to offer no more than a chance to dip one’s appendages in water while sipping a cold cocktail. There’s no actual swimming involved, as the pools maximum dimension in any direction couldn’t have exceeded ten feet.
The beverage of choice, while sitting on the side of the adult pool, appeared to be ice cold Budweisers, in aluminum ‘bottles’. How these differ from ice cold Buds in aluminum cans is not evident to me, obviously the aesthetics being the all, here.
The Bibbity Bobbity Boutique is a big smash, or so I am reliably informed, by people in the know. My person in the know was the daughter of our friends, who sampled the offerings of the Boutique. Here you can take your little one, preferably female, though I’m not going to judge you, for a princess make over. Makeup, hairspray, dress and glitter. Lots and lots of glitter. So much glitter that you’ll be seeing it in the bottom of the bathtub weeks later. Our friends’ three and a half year old (the aforementioned confidant) thought it was the most totally marvelous thing ever. When we arrived in the dining room, after her boutique appointment, as soon as she saw us walking towards the table, she stood up on her chair and let us, and of course the rest of the dining room, gaze in amazed wonder at her totally awesome splendiferousness. Which we did.
And there was a lot of glitter involved.