Travel Turtle

In all my years of soliciting and offering travel advice, there’s one fact that has never come up. Lines. Lines? Yeah, those things that people stand in to be able to enter a place, pay for a ticket, or see something.

When I was in kindergarten, Mrs. Grant assigned a new “star of the day” every day. (I got it 10 times.) The “star” got to be the line leader and the rule was if you weren’t the line leader, you had to stand directly behind the person in front of you. But, not that close, Timmy.

I took this all for granted and thought it was silly at the time. We’re kids, not an occupying army.

Then I took up traveling. And because I love to travel, I stand in many, many lines. I’ve learned that not all lines are built the same. In some countries, whose name I will not mention, the word for line is the same word for shove, push, and mosh-pit. Yep. And in other countries, lines mean that there should only be one centimeter of space between people. If you are more than a centimeter away, then you must not be in the line, so I must step in front of you. Then there’s the country that thinks the line is a time where Stan gets there first, John stands next to Stan, and when it’s time to go forward, John has the right of way. And finally, there a places in this world where lines are simply gatherings of friends, where the idea of “order” is just silly… you go ahead, I’m just going to enjoy the sun.

For the most part, I can deal with these line idiosyncrasies. It’s part of the beauty of travel and I often wonder if maybe, one of these days, I’ll find myself pregnant from standing in line. What a souvenir.

I can’t deal with this though, when there’s a clash of the cultures, a perfect storm of lines and a mob of people from every corner of the planet… I can’t deal with this at Disney World.

Ah, Disney. Everything at Disney is a line. You might not realize it right away, but from the moment you enter Disney property, pay your parking, find your space, take the tram to the front of the park, the boat to the entrance, pay for your ticket, go through bag security checks, go through the turnstile, go to the bathroom, go through the park, go to a ride, get lunch, see a show, buy a souvenir, go to another ride, eat a snack, exit from a turnstile, take the monorail back to your parking area, then the tram to your car and then leave Disney property… you’ve been in one long, continuous line.

Now add that to the fact that you’ve been told by Mrs. Grant, Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Reed and your parents and own societal norms that you have to wait your turn. And Mr., Mrs., and Baby Disney-goer have been told that lines are a free-for-all. Also add to this that everyone has paid a ridiculously high price ($75 per person, $12 parking) so chaos ensues.

Did you know that Disney has widened a lot of their lines so groups of 5 or more can comfortably stand next to each other while in line? Do you know what this means to a group of two who can’t possibly cover all that ground and inevitably ends up with a family or two, or three, pushing past them? They aren’t doing it to be vindictive, but their definition of line is just different. Their definition is just different…