Howdy do, folks. Been an exciting week for a change. On Tuesday we piled into one of the death vans (more on that soon) and drove to every WWI site between here and Ypres, Belgium. Well, maybe not every site...'cause there's, like, hundreds. But at least a good dozen or so. We wrapped up at the Menin Gate where my co-worker Ann and I laid a wreath to honour the Canadian missing - something I will never forget.
A few days later, Ann and I were off to the most magical place in Europe! Or maybe we went here . Either way. Having now been to (embarrassed cough) all three Disney theme parks, I can honestly say that this one measures up in rides and attractions, and definitely beats the other two in terms of angry yelling employees and strewn cigarette butts.
For those of you who've never experienced the North American Disney magic, I should explain that Disney employees are taught/brainwashed to act in character all the time - whether you are "Mickey Mouse" or "Picks-up-garbage-with-a-stick" guy. If you are a ride operator, then you also have a character; like pirate or wench at "Pirates of the Caribbean", etc.. So, normally the staff at a ride like, say, "The Haunted Mansion" all act like scary servants at a haunted mansion. In Florida, they interpret "scary" as "speak in a spooky voice and cackle". In France, they interpret "scary" as "yell at small children and clap your hands in frustration people who don't understand your short, guttural bursts of English". Lost in translation, indeed.
Anyway, the weather was beautiful and our average wait time for rides was 10 minutes, so can't really complain. Although I did almost punch a 17-year-old French guy in the face during "It's a Small World After All". But who isn't provoked to violence by that song?
Right, right, so moving on to item number last. Some of you former guides may be be sad (read: estatic) to hear that Charlotte, the grey van, is en panne (translation: the brakes failed as Alex and I were driving home). No worries, nothing too serious. It happened just as we got downtown: first the engine started making a noise like a jackhammer (we think it was a loose belt...thingy) and then stopped when whatever piece that was making that noise fell out. I'm all, "Dude, I have no idea what that was!", and Alex was all, "The brakes don't work!", and I'm all, "What???Omigod!" and then Alex is all "Just kidding!" and I'm all "Phew, you scared me!", and then Alex is all "Shit, they just stopped working!" and I'm all "$#%@@#$@%!!@@#". He managed to get us both to the nearest Shell station, and then all the way home after the manager of the Shell station told us we couldn't leave our van with no brakes there. Ah, France, where the customer is number two! Literally.
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