After the thrills of Disneyland, today was deliberately planned as a chilled recovery day before going again tomorrow. No alarms were set and we all had breakfast at different times before generally mooching about for a while.
I found myself reflecting again on why we keep returning to Disney and what other people must think—not that we care in the slightest.
If though they could see the excitement and anticipation on both Karen’s and Neil’s faces as we approached the park, they might understand.
If Barry and Ellie were with us, that feeling would be increased exponentially.
To anyone who hasn’t been, I’d simply say: don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. It is full-on. It is different. It is escapism. It is expensive. It is enormous fun. It can also be utterly exhausting, but it is unlike any other place or theme park you’ll ever visit. I certainly wouldn’t want to go every day, but seeing the sheer joy on my family’s faces and in their eyes makes every visit worthwhile.
Eventually we decided we were ready to get ready to go out at about 11.30am. The vote was for a mooch (word of the day) around The Outlets at Orange. It took about twelve minutes to get there and, pleasingly, they were very quiet.
We arranged to meet Neil at 1pm outside the conveniently placed Starbucks. I had to point out to Karen that it would probably be better if she did her shopping before having coffee; otherwise, she might never actually leave her seat.
As ever, we headed to Columbia first, where a couple of modest purchases were made. We then wandered into the ASICS store as Karen decided she simply had to have another pair of her very expensive—but apparently essential—trainers to protect her feet.
As always, this involved a lengthy deliberation over the correct colour and size. I was asked my opinion on the colour and then, as expected, completely ignored.
I left the shop whilst she paid because I think I would have cried if I’d seen the final bill, even after her Blue Light discount.
We arrived back at Starbucks a few minutes before Neil and enjoyed a much-needed drink whilst sitting in the dappled shade.
It was quite lovely.
If Carlsberg did shopping trips, this would be it.
I then needed a quick visit to the toilets and surprised myself by returning with a pair of Crocs slippers from the shop next door. They had been reduced to less than a tenner. The specialist in the Biomechanics Department at the hospital has been recommending I wear something similar indoors for some time, but I’d always been put off by the price back home. I was rather pleased with my bargain.
For lunch Neil fancied In-N-Out Burger. Karen and I decided to join him, although we just had the burgers whilst Neil went for the full meal deal.
Rather than return to the apartment and sit by the pool, we decided to drive to Huntington Beach, about thirty minutes away. As we approached the coast we began to wonder whether we’d made the wrong decision as a blanket of cloud hung over both the beach and the sea.
The first car park wanted a minimum of $20. With everyone’s agreement I turned around, drove a couple of blocks back from the seafront and found a multi-storey just off Main Street that offered the first ninety minutes free. That suited us perfectly.
The main street was a little like Lanzarote—which isn’t necessarily a compliment—but it was interesting nonetheless.
We crossed the Pacific Coast Highway and walked out onto the thousand-foot pier just as the sun broke through.
It was rather lovely.
We stood watching the surfers for quite a while. Some of them were as good as any I’d ever seen, riding the waves for what seemed like ages. The US Surf Open is due to be held here in a fortnight, so perhaps some of them were practising for that.
Further along the pier there were lots of people fishing. Some of the fish they had landed were enormous and would easily have fed a large family.
After another brief sit-down we wandered back. We might have stayed longer, but Karen and Neil had spotted a Cold Stone Creamery just off Main Street and were determined to have an ice cream before our free parking expired.
They both chose some elaborate strawberry concoction containing, amongst other things, Graham Crackers, which I discovered are actually pronounced “Gram Crackers.”
Every day is a school day.
From now on everyone I know called Graham will be known as Gram.
We headed back during the rush hour, so Waze cleverly avoided the Interstate and instead sent us via what felt like 500 sets of traffic lights.
They really do need more roundabouts.
Neil and I made a quick stop to buy some rolls and bananas before returning to the apartment. We were promptly told off for not buying enough rolls, a charge we both strongly disputed.
After an hour or so back at the apartment we headed out for our final Outback Steakhouse of the trip, and jolly lovely it was too. In a controversial move, Karen chose pasta, which she also awarded top marks.
On the way, in the interests of maintaining domestic harmony, I had stopped and bought some more—probably unnecessary—bread rolls, justin case we ran short on Saturday.
With that, we were back at the apartment by 9pm and got ourselves organised for another 5.45am alarm the following morning.
