Where Dreams Come True. No, really.

Shirt – Zara, Jeans – Levi’s, Sweater – Geiger

Will you hold my gurgling bag of cynicism and misanthropy for just a little while longer while I go titter looking at these photos again and occasionally squeal some? Mind, I’m doing this all in an ill-fitting (Age: 12-14 to be exact) Belle dress, but you couldn’t tell anyway because I’m also twirling like a maniac. Usually I’d trust the hubby to half look up from his Dungeons & Dragons game to tell me to snap out of it, woman, and go fetch him a sandwich but this time he’s also quite preoccupied with being prince Aladdin. ‘Prince Ali, fabulous he, is going to use the bathroom!‘ et cetera. It’s been nearly 2 weeks since we’ve been back from Disneyland, courtesy of Vienna International and Dream Castle Hotel, but the magic’s stuck with us, like it’s stuck with me for the past 20 years or goodness knows how long since my mother found out a Disney VHS is the best pacifier man has ever made. We had about 5 hours to play in the park (by we I mean the Jen & Fred couple + the hubby and I), so we busily fluttered around from ride to ride, getting salt-shaken here and spun around there… yeah, there really comes a time when you realise your body is not as compact and nimble as you like to think and that time is while you’re rattling up a dark tunnel and the rails suddenly disappear further up. Then it’s spit flying everywhere (think dog’s head out the window at 120kmph) and wondering if all your limbs are still intact. At the end of the day the stomach just seems to let go of any notion of what’s North or South and resigns to happy napping after being fed some cotton candy. It really was the most fun since watching girls trip on 5 inch heels on the cobblestones during the fashion week season and that’s saying a lot! Now give me back my gurgling bag. CACKLE.

Thank you Vienna International & Dream Castle Hotel for the best idea for a presstrip ever.