Greg Maletic: Defending Walt Disney World
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Defending Walt Disney World
Walt Disney World's Magic Kingdom takes a lot of flak from theme park fans. But a closer look reveals just how special it really is.
It's been more than five years since I last visited Walt Disney World. That's a strange thing for me to type knowing I spent my entire childhood visiting annually, and knowing how mind-numbingly long the time in-between those annual visits seemed as a kid. Realizing back then that I'd someday grow into a person who could be away from Orlando for more than a thousand days in a row would have sent me into shock.
Yet the reality isn't so dire. I'm in San Francisco now and I'm able to visit Disneyland at least once a year, if not more. And the freedom that comes with being an adult lets me visit any Disney park I want, and I've had the good fortune to journey to all of them, even a preview visit to Hong Kong Disneyland back in February. I'm confronted with one of the amazing things about the Disney parks every time someone asks me which one is the best: they all have something completely worthwhile and unique. Anaheim's Disneyland has the most attractions--and many of the best. Tokyo has DisneySea along with Pooh's Hunny Hunt and the best Splash Mountain. Paris not only has the finest overall resort layout but has the best Pirates of the Caribbean, nestled next to wonderful Adventure Isle. Hong Kong rests on the most spectacular piece of property underneath any of the resorts, providing remarkable views you won't find at any other Disney park.
Still, none of these places are Walt Disney World. Disney World--especially its Magic Kingdom--takes a ton of abuse by folks on the Internet: it's too big; it's heartless; it's not the park Walt built. For whatever reason, the Internet is dominated by Westcoasters, weaned on Disneyland and fiercely proud--and defensive--about "their" park. I'm one of them now, and after years of being a Disney World fanatic I'll admit that I've come around to thinking that…maybe…Disneyland is the best Disney park of them all. But I think people out here really underestimate the gem that's sitting in Orlando. So bear with me as I go off on my stream-of-consciousness rant about the greatness that is Walt Disney World:
The Orlando Magic Kingdom rests in an exquisite location, on the far side of the picturesque Seven Seas Lagoon, away from everything and accessible primarily by monorail or boat. The difficulty of reaching the park works in its favor: this "kingdom on the hill" aesthetic does wonders for making the place seem even more magical. My last time at the resort, we stayed at the Wilderness Lodge and took the boat launch from the hotel to the park. Arriving by water in front of the Magic Kingdom had to be the most intense, remarkable Disney experience I've had since age ten, and it's something that I'd recommend everyone doing if they get the chance. Only Hong Kong visitors will get to experience anything that's remotely close to it. (I'll grudgingly admit that the Magic Kingdom is now accessible by bus as well, an early nineties development that I found pretty horrifying at the time. But even that unfortunate decision hasn't diminished the aesthetic too significantly.)
It's worth noting that as the boat pulled up to the park, Cinderella's Castle filled my vision as much as the train station did, and it's here where I'll pick at the item that raises a Disneyland fan's ire more than anything else. There's no other way to say it: to my way of thinking, the castle in Anaheim is just way too small. (Apologists toss out adjectives like "quaint" and "charming," but when I envision "quaint", something at least 33% bigger comes to mind.) The Disney World castle, on the other hand, totally works for me. It perfectly fills up the space granted by the Main Street buildings that frame it. It's not only visible from any location in the park, it's visible when you drive up to the Ticket and Transportation Center and from any of the resorts around the Seven Seas Lagoon. It dominates a Disney World visit in a way that Disneyland's doesn't.
The Disney World castle is not only the best on the outside; it's the best on the inside, too. (On second thought, I'll give that credit to Disneyland Paris because it has a dragon in it. You can't beat having a dragon. But Disney World's is special in every other way.) You can actually enjoy a meal in there, in a beautiful dining hall that grants you a wonderful panorama of Fantasyland below. And the spectacular tile mosaics depicting the story of Cinderella in the castle's main hallway are, I think, the most beautiful piece of artwork to be found in any of the Disney parks. They're so great, in fact, that I don't even know what would come in second place. I could spend hours staring at them.
Disneyland Paris always receives notices for its beauty, and it is indeed beautiful. Yet I think Disney World's beauty is at least comparable. Its ornate Main Street is my favorite, and it's capped by the spectacular Crystal Palace, easily the most handsome building in any Disney park. The park is big, and feels more expansive than any of the other Magic Kingdoms, though never empty or desolate. And the Florida climate really does wonders for the flora of the park: the greenery is more lush than at any of the other Magic Kingdoms, and its thirty-year-old trees have grown and filled out in extraordinary ways.
I like some of Florida's attractions better than their siblings in Anaheim. In Orlando, Space Mountain is a real structure--an actual building--unlike Disneyland, where it looks like a facade built on top of a utility warehouse. And boy, is the Florida Space Mountain big, as big as something called "Space Mountain" should be. Its enormous queue builds an incredible sense of anticipation. The ride itself is quite different than Anaheim's, more roller-coaster-y, with real dips, albeit small ones. I'm not sure if it's possible to objectively assert that one's track is truly superior to the other's, but I will say that Florida's lift hill is awesome. Envision Disneyland's whole boarding area tilted at a thirty-degree angle, dangling in front of you as you contemplate the inky blackness ahead. It's a much cooler experience.