All eyes were heaven-bound and, although no words were spoken, we were all thinking the same thing as another jet plane took to the skies above: you jammy lot! We, meanwhile, were standing in a fenced-off ‘cage’ area in the car park, having been evacuated from Gatwick’s Terminal Four... Fast-forward a few hours and funny how life seems to take a much sunnier spin when you have a glass of champagne in your hand and plenty of legroom. Ah, the joys of travelling Virgin Premium Economy (though we did still look through the curtain in envy at the Upper Class passengers with their cosy pods).
After nine hours of movies, food and a few snoozes, we landed in the Sunshine State, where – right on cue – the sun was blazing. But we were about to embark on our wettest holiday ever… Our hotel, the Renaissance Resort, was situated a stone’s throw from SeaWorld, the marine-life theme park that’s home to killer whale, Shamu, and a plethora of sealife. Set in 200 acres, the best way to get around was on the Adventure Express Tour with our expert and enthusiastic guide, Dave, a good all-American boy. The tricky thing was keeping up with fellow guests as three-year-old Joe kept dawdling under the humidifying spray sprinklers.
Our behind-the-scenes, hands-on experience was full of educational opportunities: we learnt how to stroke a penguin (gently on his back, using two fingers); we also learnt why the penguin handler wore a plastic apron and Wellingtons, as penguins are prone to doing spectacular projectile poos while being petted. We also fed the manta rays. It’s a strange – but not unpleasant – sensation as the rays scurry over your hand and whisk away the fish, though Grace invariably chickened out just as they approached, removing her hand so swiftly that it splashed everyone in the vicinity. She was braver when feeding the dolphins, despite their tiny sharp teeth.
Dave dropped us off for lunch at Backstage at Believe, which was billed as a “once-in-a-lifetime VIP experience to eat alongside killer whales”. The buffet meal wasn’t up to much, but it was fun to see the whales interacting with their trainers. We were then whisked off to the Shamu Stadium, where the whales turn tricks, dance and perform somersaults. It’s all very uplifting, with a dramatic orchestral soundtrack and huge screens, and patriotic – we were there on Memorial Day, so there was rousing applause for the US troops. But perhaps most refreshing of all was that a chunk of the show was postponed because Shamu wasn’t in the mood, which at least shows who’s boss. Indeed, the welfare of the animals is a top priority and the SeaWorld and Busch Gardens Conservation Fund has been supporting wildlife conservation around the globe for 40 years.
By mid-afternoon, it was really hot and Joe wasn’t the only one seeking the mist sprays. We took refuge in the Shark Encounter, where you travel through a see-through tunnel with sharks, barracudas, eels and venomous fish swimming around you. Then Dave took us to the front of the queue for the Journey To Atlantis water coaster. Joe didn’t reach the height restriction, so he stayed with Dave, while Grace and I rode “two of the steepest, wettest and fastest drops at any theme park in the world”. Funny how Dave forgot to mention that. We were soaked to the skin. Joe must have been jealous, because as soon as he spied the water fountains in Shamu’s Happy Harbour, the adventure playground for preschoolers, he walked right in, fully clothed. We then could have gone to the Hospitality Center of the Busch Entertainment Corp, where over-21s can sample their famous Budweiser and Rolling Rock beer for free, or sat in a shady spot to listen to the American rock that belts out of loudspeakers, but after a day of activity, we headed back to our hotel for a good night’s rest, ready for our next day’s adventure at Aquatica.
We had glimpsed the spaghetti junction of bright plastic slides of Orlando’s newest water park on our taxi ride from the airport. We could also see them from our hotel, so I asked at reception the best route to walk. “You can’t walk there,” she told me. But it’s not far; surely we could walk. “Well, you can walk, but it will take you a long time,” she shrugged. “How long?” I asked, a bit confused. “Well, like, ten minutes.” So off we set, but soon discovered that she was right. As a rule, Americans don’t walk anywhere, so there were no pavements and we ended up walking along the rickety roadside, with Joe getting an impromptu roller-coaster ride in his buggy.
Aquatica was already thronging by 10am, but we found a shady spot on the huge man-made beach to use as our base. Once Joe was safely ensconced in his life jacket, we set about exploring the six rivers and lagoons – and 36 water slides. Grace visited the more adventurous slides with their myriad twists and turns, while Joe received a soaking in the children’s play area. It was quite comical watching as one water-filled bucket would empty upon him, so he’d move to another spot in this water-play paradise – only to get drenched by another. My favourite overheard comment of the day, though, was a mother saying to her children: “Don’t get wet!”
The queues for Dolphin Plunge, the signature attraction where you speed through transparent tunnels while black-and-white Commerson’s Dolphins – like baby Shamus – swim alongside, was already huge. Grace braved a 30-minute queue in the afternoon, but later said it wasn’t worth the wait: she whizzed so speedily through the 300 feet of clear tubes that she didn’t even see the dolphins.
Whether it was floating in rubber rings down the lazy river or dodging rapids on Adventure River, being surrounded by cooling water on another baking hot day was perfect. The challenge was finding shade for my two pale-skinned children, and keeping Joe still enough to apply sunscreen. We bought long-sleeved T-shirts for extra cover and tried to seek our shady spots whenever we could, but still ended the day with a pink tinge.
Next day, we were up early for our third theme park in three days. Gazing out of the window on our 90-minute shuttle bus ride to Tampa, there were so many billboards for so many theme parks, from Disney to Universal, Lion Country to Gatorland. But the huge Tyrannosaurus, tempting tourists to Dinosaur Land, was the one that caught my eye.
Our destination, Busch Gardens, is home to over 20,000 exotic animals: giraffes, deer, rhinos, meercats, monkeys and, in the new Jungala area, two of the world’s most endangered species, Bengal tigers and orang-utans. The highlight for us was the Serengeti Safari Tour in an open-air truck. We were given a handful of lettuce leaves to feed the giraffes, and told to hold onto our hats as they came up to feed. Having your face licked by a giraffe is an experience you’re not likely to forget in a hurry. There were white-knuckle rides, but we took it easy on the Skyride that provides great views of the park and the children’s playground with their scrambling nets and climbing frames. Predictably, Joe was especially taken with the fountain area.
By day four, we were feeling pretty bushed with Busch so, like true explorers, we hopped on the I-Ride trolley, the bus which runs the length of International Drive (known as the I-Drive), Orlando’s main tourist strip. We travelled to one of the outlet shopping precincts, then made our way on foot (how very un-American of us!) to take in a little Orlando atmosphere of motels with neon lights, amusement parks and eateries of every description. I felt nostalgic as we walked past Wet ’n’ Wild, Orlando’s first water park that opened in 1977, which now looks in need of a paint job. If water parks had feelings, then Wet ’n’ Wild must be a little put out by the flash new kid on the block. On the plus side, I bet the queues are shorter.
Against my better instinct, I also let Grace persuade me that we should dine in Chuck E Cheese. Basically, a pizza restaurant with a side of arcade games, rides, climbing equipment and giant tube slides. Parents do get to dine in peace as children can let off steam in-between munching their pizzas. On the negative side, parents probably won’t want to eat the food. But we were buying into a little American heritage, I told myself, and the children had a ball.
There’s something about dolphins that makes them appealing; maybe it’s those stories about them saving humans or maybe it’s just that they have such happy, smiling faces. If you’ve a penchant for dolphins, Discovery Cove is the perfect place to get close. Once I’d got over the shock of being squeezed into a wetsuit (amazingly slimming: a bit like wearing an all-over pair of Magic Knickers that suck in all your wobbly bits), Grace and I got into Jacques Cousteau mode, swimming with the giant rays and the colourful fishes in the Coral Reef. The 30-minute dolphin experience in the Dolphin Lagoon is only suitable for children over six, but luckily Joe was dozing in his ‘moon buggy’, the beach-friendly stroller with big, bouncy wheels that we’d traded for our faithful Maclaren.
Our frisky dolphin, Dexter, seemed to be more keen to get back to the pool to flirt with the girl dolphins, so eventually our trainer let him go in place of a more compliant flipper. Our ‘dorsal tow’ ride was over in a flash – not exactly up to Jane Wiedlin’s standards in her Rush Hour video, which was how I’d imagined it, but it was nice to stroke a velvety-skinned creature. We were concerned that our dolphin had a few grazes on his skin, but the trainer explained these were injuries the dolphins inflict on each other while play-fighting. The rest of our day was spent sitting in the shallow waters on the beach and drifting down the Tropical River. We must have been having fun because it was soon five o’clock and closing time.
Despite having dosed ourselves up with ample theme park experiences so far, I toyed with the idea of visiting the Kennedy Space Center, but Grace’s nose crinkled in a way that said she didn’t fancy that. She also declined the chance to do any of the four Disney parks on offer in favour of shopping. We spent the morning at Orlando’s two discount outlets (Premiere and Prime Outlets) but emerged only with water pistols and a Toy Story bleeping phone for Joe, and little else. A little disappointed with our booty, we visited The Mall at Millenia, a more sophisticated affair with the likes of Dior, Chanel, Gucci, Tiffany & Co, and Burberry, as well as department stores Macy’s and Bloomingdale’s. The perfect place to flex your credit card, or, as we did, just enjoy a spot of window shopping.
Refreshed by two days abstinence from theme parks, we decided to make the most of our tickets and return to Aquatica. However, when we arrived at the shuttle bus, a sign said that it was closed because it had reached capacity – apparently quite common at weekends when resident Floridians head to the park.
Instead, we settled for an afternoon at the hotel’s pool, until we saw a suspicious-looking object at the bottom. We told the staff and a mass evacuation ensued so it could be removed and the pool drained and cleaned. And, I hasten to add, it was nothing to do with us!
As our week-long adventure came to an end, we spent one final morning in SeaWorld, sampling some things we’d missed, including the Elmo show, which was sweet for preschoolers, and a trip up the Sky Tower – a cabin that goes up in the air… then comes down again.
At the airport, we looked like the only family who had been to Orlando without visiting Mickey, judging by the number of the Disney shopping bags everyone was carrying. With Joe cuddling his cuddly Shamu toy, it sort of felt fitting that in the killer whale-versus-rodent showdown that Shamu should be triumphant – at least sometimes.
