Chapter 1B: Wheels Up to World Showcase 
A Brief Word from Our Sponsors (The Liners) 
Before we chronicle the next leg of our heroâs quest, let us pause to acknowledge the fellowship gathering in these digital halls:
@QwertySC expressed shock and awe: âSo no sleep?!â
Indeed, dear Liner, the harsh mathematics were thus: Our hero managed a precious 30-minute nap while his partner piloted the ambulance back from the hospital during the night shift. Then, somewhere over the Appalachians at 30,000 feet, he stole another 30-40 minutes of unconsciousness before Southwestâs descent began.
Total sleep in 40+ hours? Roughly one hour. The magic runs on caffeine and sheer willpower, apparently.
@SirGreggLadyV wisely noted: âAt least heâs not driving!â â a sentiment our heroâs parents would heartily endorse.
@Jeff_AZ confessed jealousy of the trip (though notably NOT the 17-hour EMS shift). Our hero wishes to clarify: seventeen hours felt positively brief compared to his usual 24-hour marathon shifts. Itâs all relative when youâre accustomed to watching the sun rise, set, and rise again from the back of an ambulance.
And regarding the windowless window seat controversy, the jury has spoken: @SirGreggLadyV, @SamRothstein, and @RDryan have weighed in. The Narratorâs official decree stands: Villainous Defeat. (Though RDryanâs pragmatic âno need for a window on short flightsâ earned a respectful nod.)
Now, onward to the skies! 
Taking to the Friendly Skies 
At 6:01 AM, the chariotâs door sealed with that satisfying thunk known to all frequent fliers. By 6:15 AM, wheels lifted from Pennsylvania soil, and our sleep-deprived protagonist ascended toward the promised land.
Mid-flight, Southwest bestowed a gift upon the masses: free WiFi and internet! (A Heroic Find for the airline industry, indeed.) Orange juice and snacks made their roundsâthough our hero left the pretzels untouched, filing them under âfuture unknown snack emergency.â
The Dunkinâ breakfast, however, met its fate:
- Maple Longjohn â A Mythical Triumph! Five stars. The early arrival at PIT had netted an actually fresh donutâwarm, soft, and worthy of song.
- Maple Bacon Croissant & Mini Stuffed Everything Bagels â A Noble Effort. Three stars. Serviceable, convenient, likely to remain our heroâs airport go-to despite middling marks.
By 7:39 AM, wheels kissed Florida tarmac. The chariot had delivered our protagonist from 40°F gloom to 77°F sunshine.
The Bubble beckoned.
MCO: A Homecoming of Carpet and Fountains 
The people-mover whisked our hero toward the main terminal, where the iconic MCO carpet welcomed him like an old friend. 
The monorail doors wore fresh decorations: Epic Universe branding, a promise of future adventures. Mayor Buddy Dyerâs recorded voice welcomed our hero to Orlando as the train hummed along its track.
In the Hyatt atrium, our hero noted the fountainâs silenceâno cascading water, no ambient soundtrack. Likely prepped for the Christmas tree installation, he reasoned, already thinking ahead to holiday transformations.
Baggage Claim Carousel 14 delivered his 52-pound (fee-waived!) bag in roughly two minutes. At 9:22 AM, a text from Disney arrived: âYour room isnât ready yet.â
No matter. The quest would not be delayed.
At 9:48 AM, a Lyft XL (driver Yingnan, 5.0â
, Honda Pilot) completed the final leg of the journey. Our heroâs feet touched the cobblestones of Disneyâs Riviera Resort.
The anthem could finally be sung in earnest: âI want to ride my Skyliner, I want to ride my gondola!â 
The Villain Emerges: A Tale of Battery Betrayal 
But lo! No quest is without its nemesis.
As our hero deplaned at 8:36 AMâphone reading a robust 100% chargeâhe began the walk through MCOâs gate area. By the time he boarded the Lyft, a sinister notification glared back: 81%.
Nineteen percent. Gone. In minutes.
The Pixel 7 Pro, once a trusty companion, now revealed its treachery. Our hero had planned to keep this device another year, perhaps upgrading to the Pixel 11. But as the battery drained like water through a sieve, darker thoughts emerged:
âShould I order a Pixel 10 Pro XL while Iâm in Florida? Have it waiting at home?â
The villain had shown itself. The quest now carried a subplot: Man vs. Technology. A tale as old as⊠well, as old as lithium-ion batteries, at least.
(To be continued. Ominously.)
Riviera Respite: The Cinnamon Cold Brew Chronicle 
With his room not yet ready, our hero executed a tactical maneuver: luggage shifted to prep his park bag, remaining bags checked with Bell Services. By 10:01 AM, he stood at the counter of Le Petit Café, eyeing the menu.
âCinnamon Cold Brew,â he ordered. âWith house-made honey-almond whipped cream.â
$6.29 later, the cup was in hand.
The first sip?
The Narrator hereby bestows the highest honor: âA Mythical Triumph!â 
Sweet. Smooth. Perfectly balanced cinnamon dancing with cold brewâs bold backbone, crowned by honey-almond clouds of whipped cream. This was not merely a beverageâthis was art in a cup.
Our hero lingered in the lobby, savoring each sip, letting the air conditioning work its magic while the room elves prepared his quarters.
But the call of the Festival could not be ignored.
At 10:15 AM, our hero boarded Skyliner cabin #101 (blue, plain design) and ascended toward destiny.
The Skyliner Anthem Fulfilled 
âI want to ride my Skyliner, I want to ride my gondola!â
The glide from Riviera to EPCOTâs International Gateway is, dear readers, a thing of beauty. The gentle sway. The birdâs-eye view of rooftops and waterways. The anticipation building with every pylon passed.
At 10:29 AM, our hero disembarked. Security checked his bag with efficiency. The turnstiles welcomed him at 10:33 AM.
He was in.
The race against the Festival clock had officially begun.
World Showcase: The Culinary Pilgrimage Commences 
Just inside the International Gateway, Daisy Duck held court. Our hero paused for a greetingâalways acknowledge the Fab Five (and extended family)âbefore making the critical directional decision:
Turn right toward France.
(This, dear Liners, is the correct IG entry strategy. Any Liner who turns left is walking the long way. The Narrator has spoken.)
At 10:37 AM, the first booth appeared:
Brazil: PĂŁo de Queijo ($5.00)
Warm. Gooey. Cheesy. The exterior golden, the interior a molten celebration of cheese and starch.
The Narrator hereby bestows: âA Mythical Triumph!â
Five stars. Perfection in portable form. And lo! This item counted toward Emileâs Fromage Montageâstamp #1 of 5 secured.
The quest was underway.
Greece: Spanakopita ($5.00)
A Heroic Find! Four stars.
Flaky. Savory. Spinach and feta wrapped in phyllo crispness. Our hero appreciated the execution, though he noted: âMy local Greek Orthodox church festival back home still does it better.â
(Hometown pride is not a fault, dear readers. It is loyalty.)
Greece: Griddled Cheese with Pistachios and Honey ($5.25)
The flavor? Transcendent. The texture contrast of crunchy pistachios, honeyâs sweetness, and warm griddled cheese? Heavenly.
But.
The cheese had welded itself to the plate with the tenacity of industrial adhesive. Our hero waged a brief battle with fork and knife, emerging victorious but with reservations.
A Heroic Find! Four stars. (Flavor screamed five; presentation and plate-separation difficulties docked one.)
Stamp #2 for Emileâs Fromage Montage: secured.
A Pause for Culture 
At the Japan pavilion, the drummers performed their rhythmic magic. Our hero paused, listened, watched. He noted the booth offerings but exercised restraint:
âPacing myself. Iâll circle back later.â
(Wise words from a man racing an 8-day countdown.)
The American Adventure: A Battle Against Sleep 
Our hero continued to the America pavilion, hoping to catch Voices of Liberty. Alasâno performances today. But the 12:30 PM showing of The American Adventure beckoned.
Inside the theater, our hero settled into his seat. The lights dimmed. Ben Franklin and Mark Twain took the stage.
And the siren call of sleep sang its song.
âStay awake,â our hero commanded himself. âYouâve seen this show a dozen times, but you WILL stay awake.â
He did. Barely. The impressive stagecraftâanimatronics rising from hidden depths, sets sliding into place with choreographed precisionâkept his eyes open through sheer technical marvel.
At 1:05 PM, he emerged victorious. Awake. Functional.
Caffeine reinforcements were required.
Joffreyâs: The Espresso Martini Gambit 
At 1:07 PM, our hero joined the queue at Joffreyâs near the America pavilion.
âEspresso Martini,â he ordered. âMake it a double.â
$20.22 later (tip and tax included), the glass was in hand. Not a Festival itemâjust a man and his need for caffeinated survival.
The verdict?
A Heroic Find! Four stars.
Smooth. Bold. The vodka and espresso marriage doing exactly what it promised: delivering both sophistication and a neurological jumpstart.
Italy: Sergio the Juggler 
At 1:20 PM, our hero found himself in the Italy pavilionâs piazza, espresso martini in hand, watching Sergio juggle with nothing but a whistle for accompaniment.
Short. Sweet. Fun. Our hero grinned despite the lack of shade in the viewing area.
âWish there were better shade options,â he noted, squinting into the Florida sun.
But the show? Worth every sun-baked moment.
Meanwhile, at the China Pavilion⊠
(The Narrator pauses. The fourth wall trembles. A crack appears.)
Dear readers, I must confess something.
As you read these wordsâthis chronicle of airline peanuts, battery betrayal, Skyliner triumph, and cheese-based victoriesâour hero sits on a shaded bench in the China pavilion, phone in hand, thumbs typing furiously.
He is, at this very moment, composing this exact chapter you are reading.
Meta? Yes. Deadpool-esque? Absolutely. True? Undeniably.
Oh, and a confession within the confession: our hero now wishesâdesperatelyâthat heâd taken the time to change from blue jeans into shorts before checking his luggage with Bell Services. The Florida warmth is real, dear readers. And while the room at Riviera still isnât ready, the jeans remain stubbornly on his legs.
A tactical error. One for the chronicles.
The Festival booths await. The clock ticks toward November 22nd. The Skyliner stands ready for the return journey to Riviera (where shorts and relief await⊠eventually).
But first, our hero must chronicle the tale. For if a trip report isnât posted in real-time, did it even happen?
(The Narrator winks. The fourth wall repairs itself. The quest continues.)
Until the next dispatch from the front lines of Food & WineâŠ
Your Humble Narrator 
Stay tuned, dear Liners. The saga has only just begun.
before the dinoâs return to the Carnegie Museum.
