We had plans to eat at this cool little Jaques Cousteau-themed waffle bar around the corner from our hotel. Why the Cousteau theme? I have no idea, either. But it was pretty cool. The problem was, it's technically not a breakfast cafe. It's a dessert place -- where you go to get waffles topped with ice cream and marshmallow fluff and Nutella, presumably after you've already eaten a healthy and balanced meal. But hey! We're on vacation. So, ice cream for breakfast is parent-approved, as long as it's on a waffle. But being technically a dessert place, Couteau's didn't open until 10. So, for once, we had to kill some time before picking up breakfast.
After that, we trekked several blocks to the oldest house in Florida, which is run by the St. Augustine Historical Association, for a private tour of the structure, which dates to the early 1700s. The guide explained how the residents -- Spanish settlers, then British colonists, then Yankee businessmen and vacationers -- lived in the house and made different culturally-specific improvements to the house through the centuries. The kids were very patient and attentive, and it struck me that telling them that we're headed to Disney but bringing them on a historical home tour instead was a particularly cruel move on our part.
When we had discovered that our trailer is gone, I had called Disney World and found out that we could either keep our campsite reservation at Fort Wilderness and rent a tent, or pay at least twice as much to upgrade to the smallest, cheapest room on Disney property for our four-night stay. Keith and I decided to rent a tent. It was the less expensive option, of course, and it sounded like it would make for a more interesting story. And anyway, at the Jacksonville REI, we replaced the kids' stolen tent and picked up sleeping bag liners, so we had the very basic necessities, at least; all we needed was a tent for me and Keith, and some cots or sleeping mats, and we would be good to go.
The Disney reservations agent had given me the phone number of the Bike Barn at Fort Wilderness where I could reserve a the equipment, and I had tried that number one or twice in the last couple of days only to get a recorded message. This morning, I tried in earnest to get ahold of someone, but instead spent 45 minutes in automated phone system purgatory, getting patched through to the wrong people or listening to the line on the other end ring and ring and ring. Finally I got transferred to Disney Group Camping. The outgoing message told me that no one was available at the moment but that if I left my name and number, someone would get back with me. I had run out of options, so I did: I left my name and cell phone number, and I briefly explained that we're in the middle of a monthlong trip, that we have a campsite reserved at Fort Wilderness, but that our trailer was stolen in Savannah, and so now we will need to rent some equipment.
I hung up feeling both frustrated (This is Disney. I shouldn't spend 45 minutes on the phone without finding someone who can actually help me.) and hopeful (This is Disney. Someone will make it right.).
And sure enough, about 30 minutes later, my phone rang. It was an agent from the Group Camping office at Disney's Fort Wilderness. She explained that she had gotten my message and that she felt terrible about our situation. She went on to say that she had already called the front desk folks at Fort Wilderness Resort and filled them in on our story, and they decided to work a little Disney Magic. Everything has been taken care of, she said. We just need to show up. I was so overwhelmed with relief and gratitude that I never caught the woman's name. I wish I had, so I could thank her personally.
Later that afternoon, we rolled into Fort Wilderness. Miguel, the host at check-in, typed our name into his computer, examined the screen, then disappeared into the back room, saying that he had to make sure that our tent had been set up. When he returned a minute later, he said that he had good news and bad. The bad news was that our tent had not been set up, because -- and here's the good news -- Disney had upgraded us to a Fort Wilderness Cabin at no extra charge. I got choked up and teary as I thanked Miguel, and he refused to look at me, saying that I was making make him cry, too.
So here we are, in private-bath, full-kitchen, sleeps-six, air conditioned, rustic-themed comfort. We played at the resort pool and the arcade (of course -- they are their father's children) the rest of the afternoon, pigged out on ribs, chicken, mac and cheese and cornbread at the lavish buffet at the Fort Wilderness Trail's End restaurant and then walked to Chip-and-Dale's Campfire Sing-a-long, where we roasted marshmallows and joined the crowd watching a Goofy movie on the outdoor screen.
Keith managed to jump in the pool with his iphone in his pocket. He's feeling a little lost without his connection to the outside world. But even despite that little mishap, we're loving Disney World already.
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| Certainly not the bare-basics tent accommodations we had been expecting! |
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