Day Four in Orlando: Islands of Adventure!

Okay, I was pretty stoked about this one, because we had been to the other part of Universal Studios already so I reckoned I knew what to expect. Also, I felt brave enough to take my camera, despite the Bossman assuring me I wouldn’t need it, and was I ever glad I did because the place is utterly beautiful. And yes, it is all fake, but someone put a lot of effort into the fake, dammit, and the attention to detail is especially pleasing; they have different designs of bins for the different areas, for instance. Maybe I was an interior designer in a past life?

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Above: we did not go on this. Or anything that looks remotely like this.

The good news: there were no queues at all for everything, all day, and we went straight on pretty much every ride. The Spiderman one was nowhere near as traumatic as the Transformers one, despite being pretty much the same gig; cartoon characters the same size as you just aren’t as terrifying as forty-foot robots smashing each other in the face a few feet from your face, I guess.

The Bossman took me on the Hippogriff, which he assured me was a nice little rollercoaster and not scary at all. Ahahaha. At least it was only after we got off that I realised the damn thing is made of wicker.

However, revenge is sweet, and the Bossman was mightily freaked out by Seuss Landing. My bad, I made him go on the wee sky train that sailed all over it and through a cafe – well to be fair, he loves trains and he loves places with a train that goes around the inside of the wall, and we were on the train that goes around the inside of the wall, so what could have been better?

I did start to agree with him when we went into the cafe for blue jelly, however; that train goes round every five minutes, yelling, Moo moobity moo! and I started to fear for the sanity of the staff. However, we did see a very bold squirrel attacking this guy’s day-glo shoelaces. That thing basically menaces people until they give it chips.

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With hindsight, it was probably a mistake to go on Bluto’s Bilge-rat Barges three times in a row, despite the lack of queue, because we had no change of clothes or socks in sight, got drenched to the skin and spent the rest of the day wandering around dripping on everything. It was even more of a mistake to go dry off in Harry Potter land, because it is all fake snow and feels like the sodding Arctic, especially because most of it is in shadow. Although it is bizarre to see people wandering around in shorts when my brain’s screaming at me that it is below zero.

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We had a massive slap-up meal with beers in the Three Broomsticks, woo! – although this also felt odd because it overlooked both Jurassic Park and the Sinbad’s Adventures parts (while still covered in snow). And then we went on a special effects walk-through underground tour thing beneath Sinbad’s Adventures, which was a very bad idea indeed because it was bloody freezing down there and we had to hang around in a dark cavern for ages, and I was still soaked through. If I am not dead of a horrible lurgy by this time tomorrow, I will be most surprised. Mercifully, the tunnel of water roaring in a complete circle over and around us did not collapse on my head, however.

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Having survived all of that, I was emboldened enough to make the mistake of saying, Let us go on the Cat in the Hat ride, for you apparently just ride around on a sofa, and what could be more relaxing than that?

Turns out, the Bossman is completely correct about the Bad Trip aspect. To make it worse, it wasn’t till afterwards that I realised I had been all through Seussland without my meds.  

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Above: even the trees in Seuss Landing have been warped by the high concentration of Toonland particles.

But we got through with only minor psychological trauma and drove off into the glorious sunshine and onto the interstate; which was a mistake because we meant to go to the cheap sock shop down the road instead. The Bossman averted the fiasco by getting us back off the interstate before we had to fork out for a toll – and we went round in a big circle and onto a vastly more expensive turnpike, where the guy in the tollbooth, when I asked how we get off again, looked at me like I’d exposed myself in the middle of his favourite child’s birthday party.

A mere three miles each way later, we had to pay to get back off the turnpike.

However, in the end there were socks and I did the laundry with only a minor wobble caused by No Meds, Argh, stupid tourist, and now there are clean clothes and everything is Fine.

Which is good, because tomorrow is the scary bit.

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About beshemoth

Mainly making art, making wine, writing and gardening. Having a life only as the above allows.
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