(Days Inn, Anaheim, Orange County, California)

Anaheim, here we are!

I'm excited to the point that I nearly wrote a bad subject title, only to realize, of course, that this isn't Blogger. (Well, it is now!) My toes are throbbing and Han and I are scrubbing our dirty socks in the room's basin. Because Disney Resort is all about walking distance, baby.

Today was my first truly shutter-happy day because there's an awful lot to see here. We weren't so certain when we first landed, and the luggage carousel operated in full delayed reaction, and we weren't sure where to go. But we found the airport bus relatively easily. And the weather makes me think of Adam crooning you could pull the sunlight through me oh, drifting down into... Miami? Wrong city. But the sun's come out at last!

The Gaping/Deep Breathing began when we drove off after a bit of looping- windows rolled halfway down, sunlight and sweet, spicy scents (flowers, again, provide all the difference) sweeping into the van. This is the OC for you- brightness, white, white sidewalks, scrubby shrubs and then hefty palm trees with heads that rocket up, up into the sky. And amazing, amazing weather. The overdose of repetition is meant to express our extreme sense of wonder.

The other passengers included three women who chattered quietly in Spanish, two beautifully tanned Australians and a Canadian(?) man travelling solo. Our driver had a very twangy accent, nothing in the vein of New Yawka- this must be the way they talk in the West. I fell asleep after we drove over what seemed like a hundred freeways...

And woke, to recall, happily, how California boasts Spanish style architecture- strong primary colours, romantically curved window frames and doorways, warm prints. Days Inn itself is magnificent in that aspect, decked out in dark yellow and green paint. We wheeled our way into the lobby to find a golden Mickey Mouse statue, a gorgerous landscape painted directly onto the wall behind the check-in counter, and a mad, friendly receptionist named Fabio, who pretends to steal our luggage. He is Brazilian and very happy to help, give restaurant/club recommendations, etc.




(I've just come out of the bath, feeling hazy and sleepy. I'll describe the spot I'm writing in- the corner of our room where the side facing the bathroom area is partially obscured by a short wall, jutting out unexplained. There's a comfy striped armchair in that corner, a light above, and nothing else. From this vantage point I can see the beds with the furry green comforters, carved wooden headboards and lovely Spanish style scenery paintings, one above each bed.)

After dancing around the room for a while, trying to decide where to have dinner (Cuban Pete's! House of Blues! Brochures give you so much expectation of a place), my mum marched us out to explore. We clattered down the steps- the rooms are in a sort of open, outdoor area, separate from the main building that holds the lobby. The pool is somewhere in between.

We had to walk a far bit to get to the tram stop, which is hidden in the bushes- at least the doorway to it is. The palm-lined walkway made us walk on, marvelling in its beauty, luring us on a couple hundred metres too much. On the path to the tram, you can see a strange, rocky, "wolf's head" mountain and of all things, a Hollywood-themed hotel, where the entire top stories are made to look burnt and broken, like a movie set!



We took the Lion King tram to the main Disney shopping area, which proved itself to indeed represent THE HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH. It was sublime to spot Hidden Mickey heads and wander on towards the huge Disney merchandise shop.



They have gotten so smart, knowing what people want at last! Eyed, in particular, vintage style Alice in Wonderland purses, astonishing concept art paintings featuring Pooh, Peter Pan, Dumbo, old-style posters advertising famous Disney rides like the Pirates of the Caribbean and Haunted Mansion, Hidden Mickey earrings, Bruce the Shark stuffed, and golfballs depicting MM and gang. We bought the golfballs.



Did I mention that I love Disney shopping? And the dreamy, irresponsible atmosphere they set out to create?

A busker in a sparkly blue shirt was playing the violin very well; mum watched him while Han and I ran into a swanky healthy juice place due to parched throats. Only problem was they pull a Coffee Bean by asking for your name (is there any point? Any?) and Han told the girl H-A-N, but she wrote J-A-N, and there's the poor blender guy, (whose name was Edgar! I suddenly remembered. Heeheehee. Anything seems funny here.) (He didn't look like an Edgar. At all.) going "Strawberry Nirvana... Jan? Janie?? Anyone?"

We ate dinner at Ca Tel- Italian restaurant, usual works, big on wine. At least the waiter wasn't like that sniffy Cafe Amigo guy in Specialist Centre, who got mad when we only wanted water.
Where would you like to sit?" the Chinese guy with what Han calls "Singaporean" hair. "Inside." my mum says at the same time I say "Outside." He looks amused, while we glare at each otherand I step down because. y'know, we'll get terrible colds sitting outside. We are asked several times if we are "doing okay" in the process of the meal, once by the guy I think is the boss, a tall black man with a curling restaurant mustache [evidence of how sleepy I am]. I would describe our fellow diners as "a wall of talk", but incredible fun to listen in on.

After which, we visit two wonderful stores- one being Dickens' Village, which has various sections for the avid collector, which of course make fantastic gifts- the "Funky Chicken", "Ribbit", "Pink Poodle", baseball, minature New England settings that make me think Little Women.

Mum bought a chicken kitchen hanger of sorts- I personally preferred the hen-shaped fly swatter with "Chicks rule!" on the handle- for Auntie Linda the chicken collector. Then the confectionary, one of the rarest and most sinful sights in the world- bags of taffy, rows and rows of caramel/chocolate/cinnamon-coated apples, sticks of chocolate marshmallows, the most surreal sugar display I have ever seen. It was lucky we were full. Even then, I looked hungrily at the boxes of peanut butter chocolates and Mickey-shaped doughnuts.





We saw at least three limos on the way home. Han says L.A. scares her- so strange, so rich, and in my own words, unearthly with earthly pleasures. We hit the alternate universe- or rides- tomorrow.