![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seanan_mcguireIt's no secret that I love Disney Parks more than is strictly normal. While my friends start saying "maybe we could vacation somewhere, you know, else," I am still going "HAUNTED MANSION WOO HAUNTED MANSION LET'S GO." So when I had the opportunity to go to Paris, it was pretty inevitable that I would actually be going to Disneyland Paris (still often referred to as "EuroDisney" by people who haven't gone alone with the name change).
Problem the first: the cost of the Disneyland hotels was so high that it seriously made more sense to go in on a very nice, very expensive apartment on Rue Rambuteau, which is like saying "it cost so much to get a manicure that I decided to buy a new car." These things should not even be in the same discussion. But they were, and so we decided to stay with our friends and have some wonderful non-Disney experiences to go with the wonderful Disney experiences that we were already guaranteed.
Problem the second: we didn't actually know how many days we wanted to spend at Disneyland Paris. I mean, there's the quick and easy "all of them," but that didn't really address the fact that we had no idea how my foot was going to have held up during Loncon (surprisingly well, as it turns out), or how much walking we'd have to do to get to the Parks (annoyingly large amounts), or even how much there'd be to do inside the Parks, which are more spread out and still slightly sparser in some ways than their California equivalents. In the end, we decided to buy our tickets when we got there, since that would give us more flexibility.
Monday, we went down and wandered around Disney Village, and I started my multi-day campaign to collect all the pins I'd never had the opportunity for before.
Tuesday dawned bright and (relatively) early, considering that we were all sort of sleeping with no concept of time or how long things would take. Vixy, Amy, and I departed for the train station, and were basically the annoying giggly tourists all the way there, since "We're going to DISNEYLAND!" was continually appropriate.
Upon arriving, we joined the first mighty queue we found: the bag check. This took a dauntingly long time, and was followed by an even mightier queue, where we bought tickets. All three of us got Park-hopper tickets, two-day for me and Vix, one-day for Amy. I was already almost out of steps by the time we got through the gates and entered Disneyland Paris, so Vixy and Amy parked me on a bench while they went and got me a wheelchair.
This is where I say "we fell prey to thinking that because it was a Disney Park, it would be like all the other Disney Parks, and nothing could possibly go wrong." I had looked at the website previously, trying to figure out what we needed to do in order to have me in a chair without a problem, and had not realized that we would be banned from the main queues of even rides where I could physically go through the queue in a wheelchair. Instead, we would have to use the back entrances for everything, and would need to have an Access Pass. Why would this be a problem? Because at Disneyland Paris, unlike at Disneyland California, you need a doctor's note to get an Access Pass. Even if you clearly cannot walk. So...
Amy and Vixy returned with a wheelchair, and we proceeded into the Park. Being long-time Disney Park people, we immediately beelined for the Phantom Manor (the local equivalent of the Haunted Mansion), using the Frontierland signs as our landmarks. I admit, I teared up when I saw the Manor for the first time.
The queue area involved stairs. Amy followed the wheelchair signs to the back entrance, where we learned about the Access Cards for the first time. Oh, we said, and made our way back to City Hall...which is where we discovered that we were supposed to have a doctor's note. Which was a problem, since a) we didn't have one, b) my doctor was in California, c) we were in Paris, and d) my doctor was not going to get up at local 3am to fax over a note saying "her foot is messed up, she cannot walk." Vixy, as our main French speaker, tried to explain that we hadn't known before we got there and was there anything we could do. Amy looked distressed. I tried not to cry, while wishing I could sink into the floor. I hate this, I hate it, I hate having to do research on lifts and where I need a doctor's note and not knowing, day to day, whether I'm going to be able to walk. And sitting there not knowing what was being said, just that it was being said about me, made me want to die.
I can say "it was all my fault, I didn't dig deep enough into the website," and that is true. I can also say "spending a day confined to a wheelchair for the privilage of using the back entrances, not seeing the queue areas, not getting on the ride any faster, and being sneered at for taking up space, is not fun; it is not something I do for shits and giggles," and that is also true.
Eventually, Vixy was able to get across that my injury was temporary, rather than being a permanent disability which was why we didn't have a placard or anything. The very nice man in City Hall basically went "Americans" and gave us an Access Card that was good for me and one other person to use the back entrance (again, not priority access: we had to wait for the length of the line before we could get on the rides, which was totally fine by us).
We returned to the Phantom Manor, where Vixy went through the line while Amy and I waited in the back. Multiple people checked my Access Card to see if it was legit, which...we were not getting priority access. We were not "cutting" or getting a special magical show. We were, instead, fighting across cobblestones in a manual wheelchair, having people run into us, and basically being treated like we didn't deserve Disney because I had the audacity to be in an assistance vehicle. I was miserable. I was sitting in the Phantom Manor, feeling like a cheat and a fraud and a liar, because everyone was treating me like one. The Cast Members I usually count on to be on my side were acting like we were trying to pull something over on them.
I have never felt more like a burden to my friends and loved ones.
But the line moved, and we got on the Phantom Manor, and Vincent Price laughed for me, and I gradually reclaimed my Disney spirit. It was not easy. It hurt, and that was new and strange and awful. But I did it. Amy and Vixy and I proceeded to a BBQ place, where we ate lunch, and then enjoyed the Park.
Alice's Curious Labyrinth! Space Mountain Mission 2! The Nautilus! The Tower of Terror (across the way in Disney Studios)! The new Ratatouille ride, which used the trackless 3-D ride format from Mystic Manor, and was splendid! And so so so so so so so so so so so so so many pins. Oh, the pins. AN INFINITY OF PINS. I traded constantly, and got glorious pins from cast members, and it was wonderful.
Space Mountain Mission 2 was jerky and weird, but it was a coaster Amy had never been on, and we loved it so. We hit the Ratatouille ride just before closing, and the Cast Member on the door kindly let us ride together, even though I still had to use the wheelchair entrance. Dinner was at a little cafe on Main Street, and included the best ham and cheese sandwich I have ever had. We returned home tired but okay.
The next day it was just me and Vixy. We had already decided that our main objective would be a) pins and b) trying to eat lunch at Cinderella's Enchanted Table, so Vixy could meet the mice (Suzie and Perla). I decided not to get a wheelchair. It just wasn't worth it, and I knew I could turn back at any time; we didn't need to close out the Park.
It was my first day on foot in a Disney Park in more than two years.
To say that I was nervous would be an understatement; so would to say that I was overjoyed. I could climb stairs (slowly). I could step up curbs (also slowly). I could do anything I fucking wanted and it was magical and I only cried a little from the pain. I really am getting better. (Note that this would not have been possible had I not been in a wheelchair for the whole previous day.)
Vixy and I started by going to see the dragon that sleeps beneath the castle. It was a glorious piece of animatronics, and leaving put us right near Cinderella's Enchanted Table, where lo and behold, they had just started service, and we were able to get a table. She was ecstatic. I was amused. We spent two and a half hours eating a very slow lunch, ending with flaming ice cream balls, and she got her picture with the mice. She then declared that it was ANYTHING YOU WANT O'CLOCK, since I hadn't stabbed her with a fork during the very slow dining experience. Yay!
I elected for Pirates. Their queue led through a smuggler's tunnel into Tortuga, and it was a glorious piece of ride design (the ride itself was pretty awesome, too). From there, we went to Indiana Jones (totally different from the California ride; this is a single-track roller coaster with a full inversion), Phantom Manor, and then out, marking a day with very few rides, but with a lot of pins. So many pins.
On the whole, Disneyland Paris was gorgeous, and I wish I had been able to take more time to really drink it all in. But I couldn't have done any more time than I did on foot, and being there in a wheelchair was so unpleasant and dehumanizing that I don't think I could have loved the Park if I had spent any more of my time in an assistance vehicle.
Glad I went; may go back someday; will not go back until I am absolutely sure I can spend the whole trip on foot.
Next up, Ireland, and Eurocon!
Problem the first: the cost of the Disneyland hotels was so high that it seriously made more sense to go in on a very nice, very expensive apartment on Rue Rambuteau, which is like saying "it cost so much to get a manicure that I decided to buy a new car." These things should not even be in the same discussion. But they were, and so we decided to stay with our friends and have some wonderful non-Disney experiences to go with the wonderful Disney experiences that we were already guaranteed.
Problem the second: we didn't actually know how many days we wanted to spend at Disneyland Paris. I mean, there's the quick and easy "all of them," but that didn't really address the fact that we had no idea how my foot was going to have held up during Loncon (surprisingly well, as it turns out), or how much walking we'd have to do to get to the Parks (annoyingly large amounts), or even how much there'd be to do inside the Parks, which are more spread out and still slightly sparser in some ways than their California equivalents. In the end, we decided to buy our tickets when we got there, since that would give us more flexibility.
Monday, we went down and wandered around Disney Village, and I started my multi-day campaign to collect all the pins I'd never had the opportunity for before.
Tuesday dawned bright and (relatively) early, considering that we were all sort of sleeping with no concept of time or how long things would take. Vixy, Amy, and I departed for the train station, and were basically the annoying giggly tourists all the way there, since "We're going to DISNEYLAND!" was continually appropriate.
Upon arriving, we joined the first mighty queue we found: the bag check. This took a dauntingly long time, and was followed by an even mightier queue, where we bought tickets. All three of us got Park-hopper tickets, two-day for me and Vix, one-day for Amy. I was already almost out of steps by the time we got through the gates and entered Disneyland Paris, so Vixy and Amy parked me on a bench while they went and got me a wheelchair.
This is where I say "we fell prey to thinking that because it was a Disney Park, it would be like all the other Disney Parks, and nothing could possibly go wrong." I had looked at the website previously, trying to figure out what we needed to do in order to have me in a chair without a problem, and had not realized that we would be banned from the main queues of even rides where I could physically go through the queue in a wheelchair. Instead, we would have to use the back entrances for everything, and would need to have an Access Pass. Why would this be a problem? Because at Disneyland Paris, unlike at Disneyland California, you need a doctor's note to get an Access Pass. Even if you clearly cannot walk. So...
Amy and Vixy returned with a wheelchair, and we proceeded into the Park. Being long-time Disney Park people, we immediately beelined for the Phantom Manor (the local equivalent of the Haunted Mansion), using the Frontierland signs as our landmarks. I admit, I teared up when I saw the Manor for the first time.
The queue area involved stairs. Amy followed the wheelchair signs to the back entrance, where we learned about the Access Cards for the first time. Oh, we said, and made our way back to City Hall...which is where we discovered that we were supposed to have a doctor's note. Which was a problem, since a) we didn't have one, b) my doctor was in California, c) we were in Paris, and d) my doctor was not going to get up at local 3am to fax over a note saying "her foot is messed up, she cannot walk." Vixy, as our main French speaker, tried to explain that we hadn't known before we got there and was there anything we could do. Amy looked distressed. I tried not to cry, while wishing I could sink into the floor. I hate this, I hate it, I hate having to do research on lifts and where I need a doctor's note and not knowing, day to day, whether I'm going to be able to walk. And sitting there not knowing what was being said, just that it was being said about me, made me want to die.
I can say "it was all my fault, I didn't dig deep enough into the website," and that is true. I can also say "spending a day confined to a wheelchair for the privilage of using the back entrances, not seeing the queue areas, not getting on the ride any faster, and being sneered at for taking up space, is not fun; it is not something I do for shits and giggles," and that is also true.
Eventually, Vixy was able to get across that my injury was temporary, rather than being a permanent disability which was why we didn't have a placard or anything. The very nice man in City Hall basically went "Americans" and gave us an Access Card that was good for me and one other person to use the back entrance (again, not priority access: we had to wait for the length of the line before we could get on the rides, which was totally fine by us).
We returned to the Phantom Manor, where Vixy went through the line while Amy and I waited in the back. Multiple people checked my Access Card to see if it was legit, which...we were not getting priority access. We were not "cutting" or getting a special magical show. We were, instead, fighting across cobblestones in a manual wheelchair, having people run into us, and basically being treated like we didn't deserve Disney because I had the audacity to be in an assistance vehicle. I was miserable. I was sitting in the Phantom Manor, feeling like a cheat and a fraud and a liar, because everyone was treating me like one. The Cast Members I usually count on to be on my side were acting like we were trying to pull something over on them.
I have never felt more like a burden to my friends and loved ones.
But the line moved, and we got on the Phantom Manor, and Vincent Price laughed for me, and I gradually reclaimed my Disney spirit. It was not easy. It hurt, and that was new and strange and awful. But I did it. Amy and Vixy and I proceeded to a BBQ place, where we ate lunch, and then enjoyed the Park.
Alice's Curious Labyrinth! Space Mountain Mission 2! The Nautilus! The Tower of Terror (across the way in Disney Studios)! The new Ratatouille ride, which used the trackless 3-D ride format from Mystic Manor, and was splendid! And so so so so so so so so so so so so so many pins. Oh, the pins. AN INFINITY OF PINS. I traded constantly, and got glorious pins from cast members, and it was wonderful.
Space Mountain Mission 2 was jerky and weird, but it was a coaster Amy had never been on, and we loved it so. We hit the Ratatouille ride just before closing, and the Cast Member on the door kindly let us ride together, even though I still had to use the wheelchair entrance. Dinner was at a little cafe on Main Street, and included the best ham and cheese sandwich I have ever had. We returned home tired but okay.
The next day it was just me and Vixy. We had already decided that our main objective would be a) pins and b) trying to eat lunch at Cinderella's Enchanted Table, so Vixy could meet the mice (Suzie and Perla). I decided not to get a wheelchair. It just wasn't worth it, and I knew I could turn back at any time; we didn't need to close out the Park.
It was my first day on foot in a Disney Park in more than two years.
To say that I was nervous would be an understatement; so would to say that I was overjoyed. I could climb stairs (slowly). I could step up curbs (also slowly). I could do anything I fucking wanted and it was magical and I only cried a little from the pain. I really am getting better. (Note that this would not have been possible had I not been in a wheelchair for the whole previous day.)
Vixy and I started by going to see the dragon that sleeps beneath the castle. It was a glorious piece of animatronics, and leaving put us right near Cinderella's Enchanted Table, where lo and behold, they had just started service, and we were able to get a table. She was ecstatic. I was amused. We spent two and a half hours eating a very slow lunch, ending with flaming ice cream balls, and she got her picture with the mice. She then declared that it was ANYTHING YOU WANT O'CLOCK, since I hadn't stabbed her with a fork during the very slow dining experience. Yay!
I elected for Pirates. Their queue led through a smuggler's tunnel into Tortuga, and it was a glorious piece of ride design (the ride itself was pretty awesome, too). From there, we went to Indiana Jones (totally different from the California ride; this is a single-track roller coaster with a full inversion), Phantom Manor, and then out, marking a day with very few rides, but with a lot of pins. So many pins.
On the whole, Disneyland Paris was gorgeous, and I wish I had been able to take more time to really drink it all in. But I couldn't have done any more time than I did on foot, and being there in a wheelchair was so unpleasant and dehumanizing that I don't think I could have loved the Park if I had spent any more of my time in an assistance vehicle.
Glad I went; may go back someday; will not go back until I am absolutely sure I can spend the whole trip on foot.
Next up, Ireland, and Eurocon!
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:28 am (UTC)It's bullshit. It's ablest bullshit, and it makes me so mad.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 10:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:29 am (UTC)People tell me sometimes "oh, kids rent those to cut in line," and I'm like, really? Because being stared at and othered and shoved into and seeing the world at crotch-level, that's totally what I wanted as a teenager.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 11:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 03:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 11:35 am (UTC)To be honest, I was worried about it, based on my own experiences at (back then) EuroDisney.
The approach to "service" is very ... ummm . French. I know. This is rude, and stereotypical, and a non-France-EU-citizen prejudice, to a large extent, but ... on some levels, it sadly is true. Disneyland in Paris is NOT comparable on so many levels with the US ones. You do not have that unconditional "our customer is our King" approach at all, and while I am absolutely appalled at the way they treated you, I am sorry to say that I am not surprised. I will not return to Disneyland in Europe as long as France is the only country that has one.
Otoh, if I ever make it to Disneyland in California, maybe you can come along? :)
Hugs.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 11:41 am (UTC)I also just wanted to comment that I was getting a little teary reading of your experience of being able to walk. I am also coming back from a 2 year injury experience (back for me) where I could not do so many things I wanted to do- and I am also recently back from a European vacation where I was able to do things like "go up stairs" and be OK. It's amazing, and I'm so glad you also had THIS experience while at Disneyland.
I wish you ongoing recovery experiences and re-discovery of the things you used to love.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:30 am (UTC)<3 <3 <3
no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 12:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:30 am (UTC)Our bad.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 12:17 pm (UTC)Another LonCon journaler was disabled and apparently had an extremely difficult time getting around London. I get the impression that while the US is no picnic for the disabled, Europe is noticeably worse.
It does occur to me that the long lunch the next day may also have been a nice rest for your foot, and given you more Disneyland time than you otherwise might have gotten. And I'm amused and surprised that the apartment was cheaper than a hotel.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 12:36 pm (UTC)That is, sadly, very true.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 12:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 01:12 pm (UTC)But I am happy that you were able to find the magic anyway and wound up having a fun experience. Your post makes me want to go have more Disney fun but I think I don't get my next fix until 2015.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:35 am (UTC)Paris, on the other hand...nope.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 03:22 pm (UTC)When I went to Disney in Florida I was stuck in a wheelchair - I could walk down the block, where there are nice brick buildings to lean on if I need to, but not across miles (and miles bad miles and miles) of open space.
The costume-cast were super nice to me - I think I got more posed pictures than ordinary folks. I did the 'take a number' waiting for lines - like you, going through back doors and waiting my turn on the side instead of weaving through the long lines.
And these days, when I forget something on the other side of the stairs, I'm practically singing about it - because I can go up! all the stairs! and then I can go back down! Without collapsing! It's so wonderful! And no healthy-from-birth person understands what a glory and a wonder it is to hurry up a flight of stairs.
Best wishes to you and your foot. May you be dancing on it in the near future.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 05:48 pm (UTC)What is the deal with the pins? Is it a collectible thing? If one was to start (I am going to Disney World at Christmas time for the first time in 13 years this year), where would I begin?
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 05:49 pm (UTC)PHantom Manor! Eeeeee! I am full of glee and envy.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 06:02 pm (UTC)I, too, am a huge Disney fan. We're probably moving to the midwest in a year or so, and one thing I will miss terribly is having Disneyland in driving distance. When I lived in SoCal I had an annual pass, and still get out there once a year or so now that I am about four hours away. My son has been four times in his short life (once for his birthday, which was amazing). Anyway, can't blame you for being a huge Disney fan! I'd love to visit the international parks some day.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-04 06:30 pm (UTC)so, when your luggage goes through xray, it goes METAL METAL METAL... and then starts to call on Will Robinson..
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-05 02:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-05 07:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-05 02:29 pm (UTC)*hugs and booze of choice, if no likey booze, substitute beverage of choice* :)
no subject
Date: 2014-09-07 08:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2014-09-06 06:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-06 09:41 pm (UTC)I absolutely don't intend to dehumanize, and I wouldn't use that language for anyone else who had not said that was their preferred language. But for me, in this situation? It was absolutely and unfortunately a confinement.