Harry Potter Day 2

We arose early on Saturday to enter the Harry Potter park before the rest of the crowds (park guests had earlier admission than everyone else). The crowds much better when we arrived at 8:20, and we got to ride on immersive tour of Hogwarts Castle that is simultaneously a jolting amusement park ride and Imax movie with weak plot. We got to walk through the castle--perched high on a hill in Hogsmeade--before the ride and saw the Sorting Hat and plants in the conservatory, as well as laser-beamed Harry, Ron, and Hermione giving us instructions for the ride. We waited 20 minutes to get on the biggest attraction in Hogsmeade, which we thought was pretty swell!



Hogwart's Castle!

From there, the line situation deteriorated. We waited two hours to see Olivander's Wand Shop, where an actor actually assigns a wand to one of the people in the crowd. I snuck out of line to get us a frozen butterbeer, as we were standing in the sun, and that, along the Harry Potter app on Eric's iphone and gazing at the crowd's kept us fairly amused. True to the materialistic ripoff that characterizes all amusement parks, the attraction dumped us into a small room where you could purchase your own wand and then into Dervish and Bang's, a store where all sorts of important wizarding gear were available:



The Monster Book of Monsters! Careful--it moves and bites!



Surprised to be Gryffindor!



Eric, in contrast, is super proud!

After leaving Dervish and Bang's, we waited a thoroughly reasonable 20 minutes on line for the dueling dragons roller coaster (the dragons are those who appeared at the Triwizard Tournament) and then big Hogsmeade farewell. The rest of the day could be summarized like this:

1. It was 100 degrees out.
2. We had to wait 30 minutes on line for lunch and then wait about 20 minutes to get a table. People were milling around and others were asking people who just sat down if the table could be theirs when they finished!
3. It felt hotter after lunch.
4. We rode a variety of jolting yet amusing rides, including on one the Simpsons. The ET ride was definitely best of them all, though--not jolting, and you got to ride a bike through 50 million galaxies!
5. I overheated, had no appetite, was nauseous, lightheaded, and had a terrible neckache turned headache. I tried lying down and drinking water. Nothing.
6. Two hours later, I located drugs and true to Dr. Meredith's (aka MOH) prescription, three ibuprofen and two Tylenol did the trick.
7. We had dinner with Connie Neal, a well-known writer on the Harry Potter series, who was one of the first to defend them from a Christian standpoint and got death threats by so doing. We had talked on the phone before, and I assign her readings to my class, but we only got to meet at this convention. She was a lovely, spiritual, and joyous conversation partner for our last evening. We dined at Mamma Della's, an Italian restaurant in our resort that had mediocre bolognese sauce but excellent decor (really looked like an Italian home, with waitstaff who looked and dressed like my grandma and her other relatives!) The waitress, a loyal Italian woman like myself, graciously put up with conversations like this one:

D: So pardon me, but I'm Italian and really picky about eating Italian food out because I think I usually make it better at home.

Gracious Waitress: No problem. I'm the same. What can I do for you?

D: The gnocchi.

GW: Yes.

D: Is it handmade? Or do you buy it at a store? Because you know when you buy it and it's kind of dense and hard like a rock? But it should be soft and fluffy like a cloud? See, I only really like the second kind. Should I get it?

GW: It's dense. Don't get it.

And then later in the meal:

GW: We have cannolis for dessert. They're very good cannolis.

D: Ooh! I love cannolis!

(E looks at me skeptically.)

D: Well, I do, it's just that I'm very picky.

GW: Picky?

D: Yes. You see, I grew up on Long Island where there are good cannolis. But now I live in Boston, and I went to the North End where the Italians supposedly recreate Italy in miniature, and I went to the best place for cannolis, but they weren't very good cannolis. So then I went to another bakery and another, and by the time the evening was done, I'd bought five cannolis, and none of them were right. They were made with cream cheese or marscapone or something, and, well, it just wasn't a real cannoli.

GW: Hold on a sec.

(GW scurries into back of restaurant. She emerges five minutes later with a small bowl with cannoli cream squired into it.)

GW: Taste this.

D: (Takes out spoon and skeptically has a bite) That's it!

Connie Neal: Bring the girl cannolis!

While I don't have a picture of us eating the delicious, creamily good, brings me back to my childhood cannolis, I do have this, which somehow seems a worthy substitute: