I think I’ve mentioned this before, but I hate traveling. I like being places, but getting there, for me, is never half the fun, especially if it involves airports.
But Mom and Dad wanted to take the kids on a Disney cruise and invited my husband and I along for the ride—and I may be a travel curmudgeon with a serious hate-on for how certain airlines treat their passengers, but I’m not passing up a free week on a floating amusement park that exists solely to take over the entertainment needs of my high maintenance offspring.
So on Thursday, we’re driving the seven hours to my parent’s house, then flying out to Port Canaveral the next day, to catch the boat the day after that. Nice and easy—and plenty of time for Plan B, C, and even D, in case cars break down and planes are missed and luggage is lost.
So this time, the big problem is getting ready to get there.
Since my only experience with an ocean cruise thus far has been reruns of The Love Boat (I love me some Bernie Kopell), I’ve been spending the last few days spinning in panicked circles wondering what to pack and what not to pack, reminding myself that the Disney Fantasy c. 2015 is not the Pacific Princess c. 1979,* reading every article about Disney cruises I can, all of which have differing ideas of what to pack and what not to pack.
But I’ve made a list of things to take (Sunscreen, extra contacts, Jane’s inhaler, manuscript, PASSPORTS), and another of things that need to get done before we go. It’s not that bad, really; all I have to do is pack for me, assemble boredom bags for the car ride, clean the whole house, pack for the kids (one of whom wants to take everything and the other of whom has a decidedly minimalist/grunge approach), get Jane’s hair trimmed, write out instructions for pet care, get to the bank, sort out my purse, buy toothbrushes and sunscreen, and return that butt-ugly dress I bought in a panic over “formal dress night”. And maybe a few other things . . .
WiFi may or may not be affordable, so you may not hear much from me for a week or two, until I come back with a sunburn and pics—and maybe even a manageable sleep deficit.
Disney is supposed to be all about making dreams come true, right?
Ever taken a Disney Cruise? Any advice?
Who was YOUR favorite Love Boat crew member?
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* I will not, for example, be meeting Isaac, however much I might need him, nor will I be on the prowl for anything other than an empty lounge chair and a nap.
Earful of Cider 
Never been on a cruise, but it has been my experience that I pack way too much “just in case” stuff. I say, go for comfort and versatility (ie: things that can be mixed and matched, and dressed up or down). Don’t sweat the small stuff. (You can probably buy what ever it is you forgot at extremely high prices on the ship!) Don’t forget the camera. Above all, relax and have fun!
I think I’m ready. One quick(ish) stop to return that dress and I’m done. Except for twelve loads of laundry . . .
And I figured out how to keep my phone from automatically updating. 🙂
I love my sister-in-law about as much as any person can love a sister-in-law, but even she can’t talk me into Disney and nothing can talk me into a cruise. I am a land-lubbing misanthropic crank of the highest level.
That said, have a ton of fun and I have no advice. More useless skills!
Plus. you don’t have kids, so there’s that.
I’ll try . . .
Bon voyage ! No advice as I’ve never been on a cruise. ENJOY!
Thanks, Downith.
Hey, I have a passport now. I can go places, like Canada . . . Or England . . .
Oh, I dislike traveling as well, but couldn’t resist the opportunity to study Hamlet for a week at the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington DC (see The Great Hamlet adventure posts). I like the THERE part better than the getting there part. I hoped you make wiser packing choices than I did. Enjoy and bon voyage.
Nice! I try to get to the Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Ontario, whenever I can, which isn’t often enough. Still hate traveling there, though. 🙂
At this moment, I’m making obsessive piles of things on the bed and doing laundry. I have no idea what I’ll end up packing . . .