THE GRAND CALIFORNIAN: REVIEW

The silly season has come to an end. My eldest child returns to school tomorrow morning, the trips for business rather than pleasure resume, and in Los Angeles we prepare for the sweltering heat of September and October… what feel like our two hottest months of the year before the potential of a sprinkling of warm rain in November, when Angelenos venture out with their children to splash in microscopic puddles like wildebeest circling a dissipating waterhole.

So this weekend was it. The last hurrah. The wife and I stopped counting pennies and splurged on an end of summer retreat to a Disneyland hotel with tickets to Disney’s California Adventure… the other, less busy Disney theme park in Anaheim, California. With an emphasis on the western experience, the park has CARS LAND, based on the comfortable Disney feature franchise, CARS, and experiences that celebrate wine country, the Pacific seaside, and the endless mountain ranges that dominate this most populous of states. There’s even a Santa Cruz style boardwalk. Although it seems a missed opportunity not to have a gang of leering vampire motorcyclists join the Disney costumed characters. But I suppose that is a different studio.

But with a planned for return to Britain in the not-too-distant future, the lady wife and I have a bucket list of California adventures of our own to tick off, and one of those was staying a night at The Grand Californian Hotel. Tick.

We pulled up in our functional Toyota at 7am and handed the car’s key to the valet. He took our luggage for storing until the time at which our room would be ready. Then we simply needed to call a number, and the bags would be delivered to our room, which we speedily checked into while most of the current guests were still asleep. Off we ran for early hotel guest entry to the park, which is 7.30am, and you enter through the hotel directly into the park. Luxury. But first it was time to take in the grand lobby, which is a cross between a luxury ski lodge and Anglo-Saxon hall, with a calming summer camp colour palette. A great hearth dominates the lobby, and rocking chairs fit for tiny people make the youngest member of the party know this place is made for them. Disney has the ability to achieve the grand without losing the intimate. I don’t really know how they do it, and in my philosophy it is never wise to question magic. It’s like meeting one’s heroes. You know it isn’t going to turn out well, but you leap in there anyway hoping for a handshake, only to be met by a startled deer in the headlamps frantically scanning the room for their PR person, who should have kept the unwashed masses like me at bay.

Seamlessly we glide into the park. We find a bit of shade to spray on our 1000spf sunscreen head-to-toe, including the clothed bits. (I also purchased an Australian bush hat with neck guard for the two-day trip.) It was while coating my legs in a thick varnish that I noticed the bulging veins on my right leg. I’ve had them since my late teens, only they’ve become more prominent with age and as I’ve increased my running regimen to 5km a day. They aren’t the kind of varicose veins that have discoloured the skin, but I am becoming more self-conscious about them while wearing summer shorts, which I was doing on the day of the park visit. I asked my wife if they were prominent imperfections. I can always count on the love of my life not to lie to me when I want her to… she agreed they were quite noticeable. It’s time… on the next such family holiday, I will officially graduate to white cotton chinos, a pale blue cotton shirt, and a Panama hat.

We first hightailed it for CARS LAND before the main gates opened. And, of course, the Radiator Springs Racers ride was not yet working. Technical difficulties. So we headed over to the Guardians of the Galaxy ride, which is essentially a lift they cut the cables on once you reach the top of the building. It was while my two young children, who value their spine health, and I were waiting on my wife to exit the ride, that a horde of what must have been 500 people speed-walking around a corner. It reminded me of those ‘herd’ scenes in zombie movies. It was after 8am… they had breached the gates. From then on, the park was full. But, here’s the thing… the park never fills up the way Disneyland fills up. You can move, you can breathe, and you don’t have to wait all that long to get on most of the rides. If you are smart like me and marry a woman who investigates every shortcut, then you enter the rides on a Disney Genie pass, which enables a family of four to walk down the lightning lane to the front of the queue for just $20 each on top of the park ticket price… for the whole day.

My favourite ride was the Grizzly River Run. A sturdy circular raft traverses a course of rapids and a waterfall. My seven-year-old hates twists, turns, and plunges. But the whole family has learned just to lie to her and beg forgiveness after the ride is over. My four-year-old loved the Soarin’ simulated flight and called out every animal he spotted below, just in case no one else in the simulator could see them.

Disney is efficient. No 3pm ‘room ready’ for us. We got our text notification sometime between 11.30am and Midday that our room was ready. Off we trotted into the special hotel entrance for VIPs like us, and took a much-needed kip. But not before stopping in at the Storytellers Cafe. I don’t tend to ask questions when it comes to food. I just know I’m hungry, and I saw happy people carrying plates of food. What we were told would be a twenty-minute wait was maybe two minutes. We were taken to our table and noticed right away why people eat here: Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, and gang were making the rounds of the tables giving hugs and posing for photos. What they don’t tell you upon entering is that the price is the American all-you-can-eat experience. If you’re looking for a Pellegrino and a panini, this isn’t the stop for you. The food was good. I liked the potato and pea salad with green goddess dressing garnished with edible flowers… but I didn’t want to eat $200 worth of it, which is what I ended up paying for a family of four… for lunch. But when my kids’ faces lit up at the personal attention given to them by the (married?) mice couple, I realised I wasn’t paying for the food.

Speaking of which… as a family of vegetarians, we’ve had our fair share of missing out. Not at Disney. Expect ‘Impossible’ everything to be an option. The ubiquitous fake meat term is almost as prevalent in the park as ‘Coca-Cola’. The park’s double impossible burger with a frozen Jack & Coke should be a staple of every eatery.

While my wife and son slept the afternoon away in the spacious cabin-like room, my daughter and I hit one of the three pools and enjoyed the waterslide and a depth of water that is perfect for swimming, but not so deep that adults can’t find their footing. The teenage lifeguards are brutal and unforgiving… providing a level of security for parents eager to relax themselves. One truly appreciates around the pool the emphasis on native trees… Ponderosa Pines, skinny Christmas trees, and Redwood stumps. The Hollywood palms trees, supposedly introduced when Hawaii became a territory, are there, but only as accents. The result is of being transported to a place that feels remote and outside of Southern California.

As the scorching sun descended and a cool breeze picked up, my family and I returned to the park in time to see Radiator Springs turn on the neon lights. I loved it. I was transported back to the 1970s and my own first experience with Disney, when every small act of the day was celebrated as a momentous event. It was then it hit me… Disney teaches you to live in the moment… and they’ll charge you about what a new-age guru will charge you for the same retreat experience. A couple grand for the weekend should do it.