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And just like that, it was half term again. A pretty miserly half term with only three days off school. But still half term.
It had been almost three years since I said I would never fly EasyJet again so it was clearly time to get back on that horse. With conveniently timed flights to Paris Charles de Gaulle from Edinburgh I figured it was time to give them a spin once more.
Mrs Froggee retrieved the boys from school on Friday and whisked them home where they were bundled out of their school uniforms and showered before being herded into the car and we were off to Edinburgh Airport. The shower was an attempt at a bedtime ritual to save time when we got into our Paris hotel as we would be late. Freddo is a creature of habit and you don’t mess with Freddo’s habits.
We left the house at 3:55pm and had an incredibly smooth journey through town to the airport. We were in the short stay car park within half an hour. The price this time was £44.99 for five days. I always have a feeling of victory when it costs less than a return taxi fare. I’d twisted Mrs Froggee’s arm into not checking a suitcase for which our prize was bypassing the bag drop area and going straight to security. As we were without fast track passes, we availed ourselves of the family entrance to security which resulted in us being propelled to the front of the normal security queue. I didn’t make eye contact with those we usurped.
We managed to avoid the indignity of a secondary screening but, as usual, had to endure the forced duty-free experience. A quick stop to fill our water bottles at a queue-less water refill station and we were in the Plaza Premium lounge well within an hour of leaving home. Mrs Froggee naively attempted to gain access for all four of us with her Amex Platinum but I saved the day by presenting my supplementary card before any charge was incurred.
Our flight was at 6:30pm so we were eating dinner in the lounge. Kermit examined the buffet with excitement only to pull his disappointed face when he saw that there were no sausage rolls, and to add insult to injury, there were roast potatoes where he was expecting to find them. The roast potatoes were somewhat random given that the offering was chicken or vegetable curry plus rice, or pasta in a tomato sauce. There was also soup and some cold fare but none of it seemed to belong with roast potatoes. Whereas in Kermit’s world, everything belongs with sausage rolls.
Kermit grudgingly ate some pasta along with tomatoes, cucumber, and two heavily buttered bread rolls. He tried a roast potato but probably just to confirm that it was not a sausage roll in disguise. Freddo and Mrs Froggee had similar but I bravely went for a bit of both curries. They were serviceable, perhaps of ready meal standard. The boys then excused themselves and went to the children’s room to annoy the only people in the lounge who looked like they had actually done a day’s work. The suits were trying to watch Pointless on the massive tv. Not a chance. Freddo repeatedly climbed the world’s shortest climbing wall. Kermit threw some cushions around. Then Kermit saw the opportunity for operational synergies and threw some cushions at Freddo as he was climbing the world’s shortest climbing wall. Then one of the salarymen showed Freddo how to play shuffleboard. Freddo then came and asked me to play. I’m ashamed to admit that I think he might have beaten me because of repeated acts of unintentional self-sabotage on my part.
Our plane was a little bit delayed but given our recent experiences with British Airways, if it isn’t measured in hours then I don’t consider it a delay any more. Our flight boarded from gate 1F which is a long way from the Plaza Premium lounge. We bade farewell to the kindly salaryman but not before I’d nabbed two packets of mini jammy dodgers for the road. With hindsight we were a bit early leaving the lounge but at least this meant we got seats at the gate. Boarding was eventually called and Mrs Froggee and I parted ways as Kermit and I were in charge of the two “large cabin bags” which came with speedy boarding. I had chosen to go with carry on bags rather than a hold bag so we could get out of the airport as quickly as possible as it was going to be a late night for the boys. The return flights cost a total of £620.56 including £47.92 for the privilege of sitting together in seats I liked the look of and £119.96 for the luxury of taking a couple of carry on suitcases.
Kermit and I boarded without incident. In due course Mrs Froggee and Freddo appeared. I was informed that Freddo had been practising his interpersonal skills again. After witnessing him wish a cheery “hello” to the cabin crew on boarding, the pilots invited Freddo into the cockpit where he got to sit in the pilot’s seat. Mrs Froggee joined him and took cool photos. Kermit pretended that he wasn’t bothered by this. But I was devastated and immediately considering retaining a divorce lawyer until realising that this would result in me being sad and alone as opposed to my current status of sad and with family. Sad and with family, but never having been into an airplane cockpit. Whereas Mrs Froggee now has.
Sad face.
Anyway, it was the best-behaved flight I’ve been on for some time. We had an 18 month old in front of us but apart from a teeny bit of token screaming on the descent he was as good as gold. There was no swearing, sinus clearing, roving about the cabin or other such behaviour that seems to follow me everywhere. We ended up landing 15 minutes late and then taxied for another 15 minutes which Kermit was highly unamused by. There was a substantial queue at Immigration which resulted in an instant hissy fit from Kermit. I explained to him that if Mrs Froggee and I were by ourselves we could have gone through the eGates so the queue was his fault along with all the other stupid children there. Then I felt bad.
We eventually made it through Immigration about an hour after touching down and were met by Sami our driver from BT Transfers who had texted to let me know he was in situ. Not only was he nice but he had a very comfy Tesla. Sami safely conveyed us to our chosen hotel being Hôtel Adèle & Jules in the 9th arrondissement. Freddo complained that he had a sore throat which I assumed was because he was tired. The fare was €90 plus a €15 late night supplement. I’m never sure if they really mean it when they say you don’t need to tip taxi drivers in Paris so I hedged my bets and let Sami keep the change from €110. He seemed happy enough.
I had chosen Hôtel Adèle & Jules as it was well located, highly rated on Tripadvisor, offered a guaranteed connecting room arrangement, but would not see me carted off to La Force debtors’ prison. Even so it was far from cheap at €1,877.28 for three nights including breakfast and city taxes. Check in was a little bit ponderous. I was presented with a tablet into which I was expected to input all manner of information I had already provided using a French keyboard layout which meant some key letters were totally in the wrong place. All told it wasn’t far off midnight local time before we got the boys locked down.
I rarely sleep well in a new hotel because I am hard wired to expect to get murdered the first night. And boy did I sleep badly. My left hemisphere was wide awake and I’m not even sure that my right hemisphere got much sleep. But I must have got some or else I wouldn’t have been woken by the cacophony next door. Freddo woke at 3am and, as he tends to do, partook in some good old-fashioned night-screaming. Kermit was highly unamused at being woken by this so duly started screaming at Freddo. Mrs Froggee was roused and stormed next door. She then started screaming at Kermit. I too was woken but didn’t realise I ought to go next door and scream at Mrs Froggee so instead I made peepee and went back to bed.
At 7:30am my Apple Watch vibrated and after a few minutes I dragged myself out of bed, put my watch on the dresser, and grabbed a quick shower. I had inadvertently pressed sleep so there was no need to wake Mrs Froggee as the watch made a loud ringing noise once it was finished sleeping. While Mrs Froggee showered, I legged it to the nearby Grands Boulevards metro station and secured four Navigo easy cards each loaded with a carnet at a cost of €67.15. We then got the boys up and it became apparent that Freddo had a cold. Oh goody.
We had a relatively quick breakfast but there was enough faffing about that we didn’t have time to take the metro to the Eiffel Tower where I had miraculously managed to book 9:30am tickets to the top for €70.80 online (kids at a 75% discount). I summoned an Uber on my phone. It arrived unfeasibly quickly and we were at the Eiffel Tower in fourteen minutes at a cost of €15.01. I was appalled at the security queues but it transpired that us lucky ones who had already bought tickets could go to a much, much shorter queue. This was just the pre-queue which granted access into the restricted area. Inside, there was a massive queue for people wishing to buy tickets. We got to join a different queue with only about thirty people in front of us. Even so, the boys complained a bit. Now here is a top tip. If you wish to go up the Eiffel Tower particularly with whingy children, buy tickets beforehand. They are released 60 days in advance at midnight. Good luck getting these. I did not try as was not well organised. But there is a further release at 1pm (Paris time) seven days prior, and these are pretty easy to get. If you go online early afternoon one week before the day you wish to attend, you should be peachy. At 9:30am the gates opened and after getting our tickets scanned and backpacks x-rayed we were whooshed to the top without delay.
We took the requisite photos of the boys and a nice lady offered to take a family photo. It really wasn’t too busy at all (yet) and I could have stayed up there for some time. But the boys were, of course, done so we went down to the 2nd floor. There I paid €13 for a 25cl cafe au lait and a similarly small tea for Mrs Froggee. I also had it explained to me that people do not usually have milk in tea with this advice being free of charge. Luckily Mrs Froggee noticed that the price included a €2 deposit per cup. The beverages were a mistake as the boys had nothing to do other than play tig and annoy people. We drank them as quickly as we could and descended to the first floor where we got out so as to walk over the glass floor. Doing so made Kermit feel sick. We then went back to ground level where Mrs Froggee brilliantly managed to secure €4 for returning our cups at a kiosk and we paid €34 for some overpriced tourist tat because we are gullible tourists and Mrs Froggee and the boys love tat.
Perhaps I was over ambitious thinking we could have a nice walk to the Arc de Triomphe. Instead, we had a drag-our-feet to the Arc de Triomphe with a break in the middle at a small play park. Apparently, this was the highlight of the day, not seeing Paris’ most famous landmarks from close up. I gave up at the top of the Champs Élysées. I considered getting a taxi back to our hotel but instead thought we should be more Parisian and take the metro. Plus I’d gone to the effort to get the metro cards. So we took the metro. We had to change lines and, as we were doing so, Mrs Froggee reacted angrily to a man she felt tugging at her rucksack. He scooted off making a weird chirping noise and we retreated. If I could picture a pickpocket this man was one. A scrawny runt wearing double denim. At this point Mrs Froggee realised he’d managed to open the side pocket zip on her rucksack. Her purse was safely stashed away elsewhere but her phone was in that pocket. Thankfully the guy obviously wasn’t a good pickpocket as the phone was still in Mrs Froggee’s possession. Helpfully the station then played a warning over the loudspeaker to be wary of pickpockets. No sh1t Sherlock.
I am naturally paranoid so had left half my credit cards at home and half of those I’d brought with me were in the hotel safe. Those I had on me were in my wallet in the front pocket of my jeans which would necessitate a pickpocket to get so intimate with me I’d feel compelled to propose marriage. Thinking about it, that was probably Mrs Froggee’s life strategy. Anyway, no harm no foul. The train back to the hotel was pretty busy and a nice older lady gave up her seat for the boys. I said “Merci, vous êtes très gentille” and she nodded at me as if to say “your French sucks”.
We decided we would just eat before going back to the hotel. Because we are gullible tourists who like overpaying, we tried to get into Hard Rock Cafe. They were decent enough to reject us and we ended up at a place called Indiana. In some ways it was refreshing to see that the French are still cool with cultural appropriation as I admired how the walls were adorned with headdresses, arrows, and photos of fallen chiefs. The toilets were disgusting but the food was surprisingly decent. Mrs Froggee had a lobster roll, I had avocado toast with couscous and salad, Kermit had a cheeseburger which met with his approval and Freddo had fish fingers that were “so good”. We were very impressed at the fish fingers as they were slender pieces of actual fish rather than something Captain Birdseye might have regurgitated. Washed down with a big bottle of water for us and juice and ice cream for the boys, it seemed cheap at €54.90. I let the waitress keep the change from €60 and the reaction definitely said that service compris means service compris, even in a tourist trap.
We went back to the hotel as Freddo was fading. I then got sent out for Vicks VapoRub which surprisingly hadn’t yet been covered by Duolingo who prefer to teach “there is a cow on the road, it is dangerous” before such unlikely scenarios. I chose a pharmacy which advertised “English spoken here”. Technically this was true as I speak English and I was there, but on asking about the level of English proficiency, I received a traditional gallic shrug and an “un peu”. After some description of the symptoms in my broken French and mime artistry worthy of Marcel Marceau, I prevailed and was highly amused that French for Vicks VapoRub turned out to be Vicks VapoRub. I was less amused at the price of €7.50 for 50g but needs must. I then procured Mrs Froggee an English breakfast tea with milk from Starbucks for €3.45 as the hotel I picked did not have kettles in the room which in our marriage is a divorceable offence. I returned to find Mrs Froggee sound asleep and the boys on their iPads.
Mrs Froggee happily drank the lukewarm tea when she woke up. We then went to the free afternoon “tea time” at the hotel where we had tea and cake. Then more iPad time and a realisation that there was no way we could take Freddo to a nice restaurant as he was very snotty and somewhat fractious. Luckily there is a large chain of Scottish restaurants in Paris called McDonalds and we had dinner there for a bargain €30.65. The boys were delighted. Us? Not so much.
At bedtime there was not a hope that Freddo and Kermit could share a room. Freddo wanted mummy so they got the double bed and I was in the other room with Kermit. Kermit decided he wanted a hug from mummy at 10:30pm. I stopped him as he was slipping out the door and read him the riot act. He cried like a baby. As retribution he then woke me up at 1:20am by switching on his light because it is impossible to have a sip from a water bottle in the semi dark.
I woke up at 6:45am and immediately jumped out of bed to ensure we were on schedule for going to the Louvre. Mrs Froggee and Freddo were awake which probably wasn’t a good thing. In the shower I realised that, because I am an idiot, I had double bluffed myself and I wanted to get up at 7:30am local time (corresponding to 6:30am UK time) and not the best part of an hour earlier.
We got up and had a slightly more leisurely breakfast than the day before. I took pity on Freddo so we went to the Louvre on the metro. We got there in good time for our 9:30am slot (booked online for €34, kids free) sneaking in via the quieter Carrousel du Louvre entrance. I haven’t been to the Louvre for a long time and I don’t remember it being anything like as spectacular. Maybe middle age makes you appreciate such things more? We made a beeline for the Mona Lisa which was busy but not so busy that you couldn’t see it. I then thought maybe the boys should also see the Venus de Milo. As we headed there, I saw the main queue outside which I pointed out to Kermit. “Daddy that’s a naked woman and I don’t think it’s appropriate for me” he answered. No Kermit, behind that statue, out the window, actually don’t bother. He takes no delight in witnessing a queue he missed. Probably because having to stand in a queue is not a concept he recognises.
We tried to interest the boys in Egyptian and Roman artefacts but their limited patience was spent. After the sum total of 35 minutes in the world’s greatest museum we exited via the gift shop where we bought some overpriced tourist tat for €15.50 and then went to Starbucks and fed them junk while Mrs Froggee despaired that they didn’t have any black tea. I think she might have been particularly bitter as she paid.
Freddo was not doing well but we figured fresh air was better than screen time so we walked back to the hotel. My plans for a leisurely stroll through the Jardin des Tuileries to the Place de la Concorde were nixed though. On the way back I quickly went to Franprix and bought two boxes of tissues for €2.98 as Freddo had been burning through them. Mrs Froggee napped until it was time for brunch which I’d booked at the restaurant at Hotel des Grands Boulevards which was only three minutes from our hotel and features on the Amex Platinum dining list. The boys refused to eat anything sensible whereas Mrs Froggee and I ate adequately. The bill was €132 which meant we still had credit to spare from the “free” £150 offered by Amex. Mrs Froggee laughed when I suggested she could have dinner there by herself that evening but on reflection started to take the idea seriously. A €10 cash tip made the waiter very happy and we were done.
The gang went back to the hotel to top up on screen time whereas I went off in search of Vaseline as Freddo’s nose was chafing. This was not easy as it appears pharmacies in Paris take Sunday closing very seriously. I had to walk the best part of a mile but successfully procured a 50ml tube for €2.99 in a rare, open pharmacy utilising my best French aided somewhat by the fact that French for petroleum jelly is la vaseline. I then went to the famous Louvre branch of La Poste where I bought ten international stamps for €18. The lady was very nice and spoke French clearly and patiently and offered me a choice of stamps. Obviously, I pounced on the one featuring an image of Marcel Marceau.
I really wanted to visit the Jardin du Luxembourg which I walked across many a time when I spent the summer of 2001 in Paris. But instead, I went back to the hotel where I smeared Vaseline below Freddo’s nose and then listened to Mrs Froggee snore. Any hopes of the Montmartre funicular or a riverboat on the Seine were also done with. I wisely saved €3.45 and procured tea to go for Mrs Froggee free of charge from the lounge in the hotel while she slept through tea time. Not a chance of tiffin for me.
Given Freddo’s sub-par state we decided just to go back to the cultural appropriation restaurant which was, at least, a step up from the Scottish one. It turned out to be a chain and there was a second branch even closer to our hotel than the first so off we went. Dinner was much the same as the prior day’s lunch except Mrs Froggee forgot to utter “no sauce” when ordering Kermit’s burger. This is a cardinal sin and the resultant burger was treated as a category 3 biohazard by Kermit. So we had no choice but to order a second burger saying it was our mistake and we would, of course pay. Don’t get me wrong, I know we had a choice but I couldn’t face a battle. It seemed somewhat punitive when the bill came that we got charged for three kid’s meals at €9.50 each when we didn’t get a third ice cream, drink or side of fries but I bit my tongue. I grudgingly paid the €69.90 bill without supplementing it.
Sleep was much the same as the prior night other than Freddo didn’t disturb Mrs Froggee quite as much and Kermit flooded the room with light at 2am rather than 1:20am.
The morning brought the excitement of Disneyland Paris. I nipped out to buy some bananas, apples and water from Franprix for €5.58 which got popped into one of the suitcases and after breakfast we were picked up by a nameless driver from BT Transfers in a big van. He barely said a word but was willing to entertain the fact that none of us wanted to face backwards for the drive. Traffic was horrendous and it took 80 minutes, which is twice the trafficless time. The boys, however, surprised me by keeping the complaining to a bare minimum other than Freddo starting to feel car sick with all the the stop starting in town. When we finally got to it, the motorway cured him and at 11:20am we pulled up to Disney’s Hotel New York – The Art of Marvel. I paid the driver €100 which he accepted with alacrity as it included a €10 tip. Our luggage was seamlessly stored, pre check-in was swift and we were issued our Disney park access cards. It did make me laugh that the receptionist seemed super keen to speak English to me. But it turned out that she was Belgian Flemish and, in her words “in Belgium the French don’t learn Flemish so why should I learn French? I can speak enough French to check people in but I’d really rather not”.
Off we went to Disney where I very quickly reappraised my view that Ryanair flight FR6622 from Tenerife to Edinburgh was hell on earth. The queues for rides were long and most of the rides the boys seemed interested in did not even have the option of priority access. Priority access is a brilliant Disney invention and cost €480 for a family of four for the day and that is the cheap weekday price. It would have been €640 at the weekend. You could buy access for individual rides for a more reasonable €5 – €13 per ride per person although that would obviously soon add up. We got a taste of the Disney experience by waiting half an hour to ride for a couple of minutes on Casey Jr. – le Petit Train du Cirque. We then did a couple of “walk through” attractions and had a late lunch at a fast service hotdog restaurant called Casey’s Corner. There were some healthy options on the menu such as a vegetable salad, mixed fruit and cherry tomatoes (€2.80 for nine tomatoes as it turned out) but they only actually had the cherry tomatoes. Mrs Froggee and I had hot dogs and the boys had chicken nuggets and shared some fries. And four cherry tomatoes each. I ate one to see if it was worth 31 eurocents. It was not. Total €53.10. Welcome to Disney.
Obviously, Kermit needed to pee for which we had to exit the restaurant, and then we had to “respect the one-way system” by not coming back in the way we exited. We fought past the queue at the main entrance before I was severely berated by the queue dragon for ducking under the tensile barrier as she had to approve the purpose of our visit. It was by far the rudest manner I have ever been spoken to by someone in a customer service job. Because I was with Kermit I sucked it up. In Kermit’s words “she really told you off daddy”. I then wisely decided not to duck under the next checkpoint where I waited behind a lady who was being ignored by a second queue dragon who was polishing unoccupied tables. Eventually he came over and the lady was not given permission to enter as she did not have food. “You wait until your friend comes with the food.” Thankfully being reunited with my family was an acceptable excuse for wanting in and the tensile barrier was lifted for us before being immediately replaced.
We then figured we might as well get our rooms so we went back to the hotel where our Disney access cards were magically transformed into our keys. The luggage appeared within minutes and Mrs Froggee rejoiced that our two rooms each had a kettle and black tea. After all the excitement we just decided to rest up. When you pay £2,184.56 for two nights’ accommodation you might as well spend some time in it.
For dinner, I had been frequently refreshing my Disney reservation app every few minutes to try and find an acceptable option. At Disney, you need to book dinner months in advance if you want to eat in one of the “better” restaurants. I had not done this. At about 5pm, options started to open up as all the people who had booked many months ago clearly decided they couldn’t face any more time in the parks. Having booked and subsequently rejected Walt’s, Auberge de Cendrillon, and Captain Jack’s, I ended up plumping for 5:30 pm at Bistrot Chez Rémy, which is technically a lunch slot at Disney. I thought it was a bit earlier than ideal but that turned out not to be the case as service was glacial. We waited ten minutes to be seated and were eventually given menus at which point the waiter went into hiding. After 20 minutes he did come back to take our order although at Bistrot Chez Rémy you have to decide up front whether you want a dessert or not. And you can only have a dessert if you have a starter also. I had a starter and a main course but figured an extra €15 for a dessert was taking the Mickey Mouse. Mrs Froggee had no issue with me paying that much for her though. Dinner was actually pretty good but I couldn’t decide if the service was deliberately awful or part of the experience. The waiter was really friendly so I don’t think he hated us but he had no clue what the soup of the day was. He brought the wrong starters, he got Mrs Froggee’s and my mains mixed up and the force with which he put our litre bottle of water down seemed designed to stress test the table’s engineering. €160. For which we got an okay dinner in a restaurant designed to make us feel like rats. Admittedly Freddo did comment on it being “fancy” as we entered but his baseline is McDonald’s. I’d kind of been expecting some sort of singing and dancing show where the waiting staff belted out “Be Our Guest”. Mrs Froggee informed me that was from Beauty and the Beast while pulling her trademarked “I married an idiot” face. I took the boys to pee after dinner and Mrs Froggee called after me to take a picture of the boys. I found this a strange request but not one to disappoint my life partner I took a cracking one of the boys standing by the urinals. It turns out I misunderstood. Mrs Froggee then took the boys off to take proper photos. While posing, Freddo almost collided with a waiter carrying several loaded plates. That would have been a treasured memory.
Freddo perked up after dinner so we let the boys go on a couple more rides with the Flying Carpets Over Agrabah being a big hit and worth 15 minutes queuing. Twice. We went on the Ratatouille ride which was “4D”. It made Mrs Froggee feel very poorly indeed. We went back to the hotel and she took post hoc travel sickness medication but it was to no avail and she was done for the night so I put the boys to bed. We had a connecting room arrangement with one King bed in one room and two doubles in the other. Neither Mrs Froggee nor I could stand our children any more so we had concluded that they were sleeping in the same room no matter what. But as a contingency we had requested for the sofa bed to be made up. By the time I had locked down the boys, Mrs Froggee was curled up in the sofa bed. After two nights with Freddo she didn’t want to share a bed ever again. Yes dear. Goodnight and I love you too. I slept surprisingly well for the first night in a new hotel which was ironic as I was quietly hoping I might get murdered in my sleep. No such luck. Tomorrow was indeed another day.
We’d had good weather so far but for the one full day we had at Disney they decided to spoil us with something similar to the haar (sea fog) we get in East Scotland. It was cold, damp, windy, and miserable. We got up fairly early and made a light breakfast out of some of the fruit I had bought the day before and brioche brought from home. We made it into the park during Magic Hour when access is reserved for Disney hotel guests. We headed straight for the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad to find it wasn’t open. Because open at 8:30am at Disney means something different to the rest of the world. They have their own app to keep customers apprised of such developments but I guess it is work to update it? So we did the Pirates of the Caribbean which was uneventful and some kids rides but quickly we were overwhelmed by the queues. Kermit then decided to have a tummy ache so back to the hotel we went. At my suggestion he went to the toilet and it was cured by, in his words, “a gigantic fart”. We stayed at the hotel for a couple more hours to warm up and then went to McDonalds for lunch (€30.70) because that is what hopes and dreams are made of. Mrs Froggee was in charge of the machine and almost ordered Kermit a cheeseburger without the burger or cheese but I saved the day.
We then went back to the park where the queues for anything good were well past my pain threshold. The boys’ behaviour had been pretty poor at Disney so far. At every opportunity they were sniping at each other. Grabbing, pushing, poking, pulling, prodding, kicking. It was becoming intolerable. I’d developed a headache and, just between you and me, kinda needed to make poopoo so when we discussed buying priority access for the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, I was both surprised and delighted that Mrs Froggee seemed game to go on with the boys. As I was faffing about booking it on the Disney App, the boys went into overdrive kicking gravel at each other. I lost my rag at them, declared the day over and started marching back to the hotel. I managed about two minutes before starting to feel guilty as Mrs Froggee wanted to see the Lion King and the parade. So after conversing with Mrs Froggee, I decided to relent. I paid £54.52 to guarantee our seats for the Lion King which then caused me a mild panic attack as the terms and conditions stated the emailed tickets were only valid if printed on A4 paper. I asked and got a response from a cast member that this condition was complete and utter guff. We went and had a cup of tea which Mrs Froggee kindly paid for while we watched people queue for an hour for the Lion King. Perhaps we could have got the cup of tea to go and joined the queue but I felt that £54.52 seemed a reasonable price for not joining another queue. Disney does that to you.
The Lion King was good in that I now know there is no need for me to ever see the full version as the half hour abbreviated show made me hark back to the good time I had standing in a 30 minute queue for Casey Jr. – le Petit Train du Cirque the prior day. We then made our way to the route of the famous Disney Parade which is one of Mrs Froggee’s favourite things at Disney. Which means it is probably one of her favourite things in the whole world. We had skipped it the day before in favour of getting food into Freddo. We got prime seats (sitting on the kerb). We even got there early enough that there was plenty of time for me to take Kermit to the toilet for what seemed like the 17th time of the day. The parade was meant to start at 5:45pm. The anticipation built and at 5:48pm we were rewarded with a PA announcement that, and I quote, “due to unforeseen circumstances today’s parade has been cancelled”. You couldn’t make it up.
I’m very good in a crisis situation and immediately went on the Disney App and snapped up a 6pm reservation for the nearby Silver Spur steakhouse. Service speed there was a bit swifter than Bistrot Chez Rémy although our waiter either went into witness protection or had a very successful gender reassignment operation halfway through our meal. But I was allowed to order a main course and a dessert which was more than I could possibly have hoped for. And when the main course came with proper bonafide vegetables I almost cried. The boys were less amused as the beef burger was indeed a beef burger but was not served in a bun. Très drôle. A veritable bargain at €135. We went straight back to the hotel after dinner as the boys were still very much in trouble. Kermit was happy to go to bed a bit earlier than usual as he was now full of Freddo’s cold.
Yay – final day. We’re going home. We did manage to get onto Big Thunder Mountain Railroad without too long a wait during magic hour. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting although I do admit that the protective arm I put round Freddo was partly for my benefit. We then took the boys for one last go on the Flying Carpets Over Agrabah ride which remained Freddo’s favourite. And we naively let them both have a cuddly animal from the gift shop (€30 x 2 for the same Stitch each) because poor behaviour on holiday deserves to be rewarded.
Looking at the excellent queue-times.com, the days we were at Disney had the park showing as 58%, 60% and 44% occupancy. Of course the 44% was when we were only there for an hour on the final day. By contrast it was 90% the Friday before we arrived and averaged near 90% for the English half term week in early June. I can only imagine how bad that must have been for those poor souls. Thoughts and prayers.
We went back to our rooms to find that the cleaners had already been into the boys’ room and stripped the bed, because at Disney an 11am checkout means why are you still here at 10am? We finished packing which was slowed down by two further attempts by the cleaners to access our rooms and left at 10:30am. Check out was instantaneous and we walked to Chessy train station. As we waited for the train, Freddo and Kermit scrimmaged. Kermit ended up on the ground and I couldn’t decide if I was more annoyed at Freddo for pushing Kermit over or Kermit for getting beaten up by his little brother. So I shouted at both of them. We took a TGV to the airport which I’d prebooked for the bargain price of €60 for a nine minute journey (kids half price). I’d paid for first class given that standard class was €57. The train was awful. It was stuffy beyond belief and it was difficult to get onto it because of people and bikes blocking the entrance. Nine minutes was plenty.
At Charles de Gaulle I sought out La Poste to post the postcards we had written. Obviously five minutes later we then walked past a post box. Airport Security was quick and the staff were really friendly. Maybe they pay them properly in France? Passport control was a bit slower but we got through in plenty of time to get lunch from the only option in the non-Schengen area which was a quaint French sandwich shop called Pret A Manger. I managed to pay €48.55 for lunch which is surprisingly easy when a fruit salad costs €5.65.
I took the boys to wash their hands before eating and Kermit had a pee. I then took them to pee before we went to the gate (we were at B11 which meant a bus). The wily Mrs Froggee noticed a gate change though and it turned out we were B22 which meant a jetway. Yay. Obviously, the flight was delayed but, again, nothing by British Airways’ standards. Kermit then needed to pee again. As did Freddo apparently. So off we went to find on our return that boarding had been called and all the other speedy boarders had left us for dust. Kermit and I joined the back of the speedy boarding queue. We then got to stand in a jetway for a length of time that made me reminisce about the halcyon days at Disney. As it turned out the jetway was a trick as it was merely used to convey us onto a bus. Where we were cheek by jowl. And the bus driver then tried to recreate the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad as he alternated between full acceleration and full brakes. It was telling that the man standing behind Kermit seemed genuinely concerned for the boy’s wellbeing and put out a precautionary hand more than once.
We did make it onto the plane intact, where we were reunited with Mrs Froggee and Freddo. The passengers were well behaved again and I had the joy of an empty seat next to me as the French fellow to my right took his case and disappeared towards the back once the fasten seat belt light was switched off. By contrast Mrs Froggee’s non-Freddo seat mate twitched his leg non-stop for the entire flight, even when he appeared to be sleeping. She did the British thing of ignoring it at the time and then relentlessly complaining about it for days afterwards.
We landed soon enough and Easyjet spoiled us by opening both the forward and rear doors. But Edinburgh Airport had a final insult for me. We got to climb three flights of stairs which is surprisingly tiring when carrying 30kg of hand luggage. I could have taken the lift but that might have involved waiting. We then got to walk the entire length of the airport along a corridor I have never encountered before. But immigration was instantaneous and courtesy of being hand carry only, we didn’t have to wait for our luggage while Edinburgh Airport’s baggage handlers took their traditional tea break before they put the cases onto the carrousel.
There was but the small matter then of dropping £71.15 on food at Marks and Spencer at the airport, a shop I will never tire of. This included £6 for 270 grammes of their “Best Ever Sausage Rolls” which must have been some sort of attempt to compensate Kermit for the trauma of the Plaza Premium lounge five days earlier. I found my car despite not actually remembering where I’d parked it and we were home in half an hour.
As we unpacked and put the laundry on, I vowed never to go back to Disneyland Paris. At least not until next year.
The end.
Brilliant – but you really need to do a podcast (there’s a sudden vacancy at Spotify, apparently).
Laughed so loud I think my neighbours must have heard! +1 to the podcast idea. Surprised there isn’t already a HfP crowdfunding movement to send you on a solo relaxing break for a few days!
Thank you for the entertainment.
Thanks Froggee. Loved it and bo***cps to “they grow up too fast”; this made me supremely grateful that mine are getting past the age where Disney is attractive to them. Escaped without ever taking them to the Paris version. Last time I was there was so long ago that they had a kids ride featuring Michael Jackson 🤣.
Thank you
So (not) looking forward to our DLP trip to Marvel Hotel later in year with the Grand children (The Kray Twins) after reading your trip reportExcellent! Eye watering sums of money. Scary
Thanks @Froggee. Forget IFE, on a long haul flight I’d rather have an anthology of your anecdotes any day !
PS: The spawn will realise their good fortune one fine day, and will thank you, by which time you and Mrs Froggee will likely be enjoying your own much more peaceful and self-indulgent holidays together.
How long were you away? I think it must have taken you as long to write about it. I feel like I went away for about 10 days.
But as usual it is a riot from start to finish. With some brilliant gems; “a gigantic fart” being one of the highlights 👌
@WaynedP I have been quietly bookmarking these gems so that I can entertain myself re-reading them by the pool on my truly relaxing adults only trips.
Thank you @Froggee for yet another brilliant tale of real life. Your selflessness and largesse in visiting anything Disney is highly commendable. I’m very lucky that my wife and her best friend once took the children to Disneyland Paris on a day trip from Paris which they all hated, so I was forever spared.
PS I’m a bit worried you have hacked my ‘phone as my keyboard has just switched to an AZERTY one!
@Johnnie I’m not so sure the Spotify vacancy is as sudden as we’re led to believe. From the sound of the expletive ridden account by the Spotify exec there were rather fewer podcasts by the ex-royals than their fee was supposed to generate. From the Sussex point of view cheap effort for the money though.
Tres amuseant and yes on a rugby trip my mate had a pickpocket try to access his wallet which was safely in the front pocket of his jeans close to the crown jewels. He left with more than a flee in his ear 🙂
Have you tried the “Do not murder me” signs for the hotel bedroom door handle?…I always travel with mine, and they work a treat every time.
Well done Froggee. Only another 12 or so years to go…
Another great installment Froggee. By the way, a travel kettle might come in useful for your next escapade.
Amusing read as always – but, wow. That’s like £5k plus change for a long weekend in Paris for 4. I know revenge travel is pushing up prices like crazy, but if someone had asked me to guess the cost of that trip I’d have been around half of that number. Don’t feel quite as bad about the price tag on our family summer holiday – and with the eldest turning 18 in the coming weeks, it should get cheaper from here…
Ah @The real Swiss Tony I think you might be a bit optimistic re over 18’s! They may not respond to messages in the ordinary course of events, but mention a holiday and they’ll reply by return and may additionally wish to bring a boy/girlfriend on your $, so the tuppenny bun also costs fourpence.
Merci buckets all. In response:
@Erico1875 – the Marvel hotel room was pretty nice. Just don’t leave it.
@AJA – five nights away. It’s mostly written on the plane. I then ignore it for a few weeks, finish it off and edit/proof read. I should be outsourcing the proof reading to @JDB thinking about it as that takes longer than writing it.
@Ash – I hadn’t thought about Do Not Murder me signs. Are they as effective as the Do Not Disturb ones?
@elguiri – we have a fine specimen of a travel kettle bought from Lakeland when there was an Amex statement credit offer. But we were travelling hand carry only and it was either the kettle or a change of pants for me. And Mrs Froggee hates it when I turn my pants inside out and hammer them with my shoe.@JDB This makes me laugh and worried at the same time as mine will reach that territory in a few years. Was hoping that travel may become a little easier and affordable but sounds like wishful thinking by me.
Fantastic read as always and a highlight of my day (says alot!). When is the book coming out?
Brilliant as always @Froggee… Living in Edinburgh, I always take a special interest in your familial journals.
Edinburgh airport is truly a Jekyll and Hyde experience.
Between the bargain short term carpark or valet parking, the speed of the fast track security, the quality of the whisky selection in the Duty Free, decency of the Plaza Premium Lounge, and the infrequency of being bussed to the plane… The outbound experience is pretty good.
However inbound is horrible. Virtually always being bussed, the queues at immigration – sometimes outside onto the tarmac, and then the lack of taxis at the rank… the M&S being the only redeeming feature.
Excellent as usual @froggee, already looking forward to the summer episode.
@supergers49 – you are absolutely correct about immigration at EDI, it’s like queueing in a cattle shed. Only have to hope an improved area is in their development plans@supergers49 – you are absolutely correct about immigration at EDI, it’s like queueing in a cattle shed. Only have to hope an improved area is in their development plans
Unfortunately, the new immigration hall, and the crazy cattle runs leading to it, are their latest development! Absolutely bonkers.
If you’ve nothing planned for September weekend, Ferrari world/ Port Aventura looks good.
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