A guest post by Marisa Cohen
“Mom, look! You can go to Florida
and actually fly a broom with Harry Potter!” —
My younger daughter Molly, 7, had
just seen a commercial for the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, the new
park-within-a-park at Universal Orlando. After I gently explained that commercials
can be deceiving, I raced to the computer and booked a trip to Orlando
for spring break anyway. Well, why not? Molly, her 9-year-old sister, Bellamy,
and I are all crazy about those wizards, and my husband Jeremy is an awfully
good sport.
When we arrived at Universal on a hot, sticky Friday, we
merged with the massive crowd of adults and children who walked as if in a
trance toward the Harry Potter section of the park, which opened just last
year. As the towers of Hogwarts Castle came into view, we felt as if we had
just apparated into the fictional village of Hogsmeade. Vendors were selling
pumpkin juice and butterbeer; every shop window on was filled with clever nods
to the books and movies—a shaking box of Quaffles and Bludgers in the Quidditch
supply shop, a replica of Hermione’s Yule Ball gown in the Wizardwear store.
But the real magic happened inside the castle walls. While
waiting on a line that can be as long as an entire Harry Potter movie (it
ranged from 50 to 150 minutes the day we were there), we wound through the
halls of Hogwarts, visiting Professor Dumbledore’s office, checking out the
Gryffindor common room, and listening to the chattering portraits on the walls.
Finally, we reached the main event: the high-tech, virtual ride Harry Potter
and the Forbidden Journey.
And this is where I apologized to Molly for not believing
her. Because once we were on that ride, we truly felt like we were flying,
following Harry on a heart-stopping chase through the Chamber of Secrets, into
Aragog’s lair, smack in the middle of a Quidditch match. The major down side:
Molly could not experience the magic herself, since you have to be 48 inches
tall to ride, but the experience was so insanely wonderful that Bellamy and I went on
a second time, while Jeremy stayed with Molly in the “child swap” room (where
little kids are parked after the castle tour and before the ride). Luckily,
Molly’s disappointment was easily eradicated with the purchase of a stuffed owl
and several rides on Flight of the Hippogriff, a smaller, traditional roller
coaster.
The girls and I wanted to meander slowly through the park,
but as Jeremy pointed out, the streets of Hogsmeade were denser with
pedestrians than Rockefeller Center
at Christmastime. Still, we bought Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans at
Honeyduke’s sweet shop and picked out beautifully carved wands. You could see
J.K. Rowling’s touch everywhere—she reportedly had to approve every detail, and
the result is a complete absence of the usual theme-park tackiness.
After a lunch of shepherd’s pie and butterbeer at the Three
Broomsticks, we took a break to visit some of the other sections of Universal. But I was itching to get back to Harry, and as the sun went
down, we returned to a slightly less crowded Hogsmeade, where we caught a performance of the Hogwarts Frog Choir (five human singers
and a couple of animatronic amphibians).
By the end of the day, we were running out of both
cash (those wands and owls aren’t cheap) and energy, so we took one last look
at the twinkling lights on the castle, and dragged ourselves back to the car.
Now
that we’re back home, Molly measures herself every day. I have a feeling that
as soon as she hits 48 inches, we’ll be flying right back.
