It's a small world after all...

...especially if this is the first time you've been to Disney World since you were 10 years old. But sure, the turns on Thunder Mountain aren't quite as fast, the drops on the log ride aren't quite as high, and the Haunted Mansion isn't quite as spooky, but gosh darn it, the hotdogs still taste just as good. Welcome to Disney World folks!

Not a bad spot for a conference.

Hard to find the motivation to tackle the queues in the Magic Kingdom when the room opens onto the beach. Perhaps I'll waddle down to the convenient mobility scooter stand down in the hotel lobby. Why these days they even come complete with two convenient cup holders - one for your super upsized soda, and the other for your dialysis machine.


Welcome to the Magic Kingdom. Have a Magical Day (tm). And make sure you spend what's left of you stimulus package on a pair of Mickey ears and a corn dog. Seriously, it would be un-American not to.

Casey's hot dog stand. Who would have thought there's life beyond WoW?

Quick, get a photo. This is the last home in Florida that hasn't been foreclosed on yet.

The jungle cruise. Rock looks a little to blase about the impending doom at the jaws of an enraged flotilla of crocodiles. Almost like he's seen it all before...

This is the before shot. We sold the after shot for a Weightwatchers commercial.

Mei wonders how the Swiss Family Robinson managed to recover the soda fountains from their doomed vessel in such good working condition.

Look, they even crafted a convenient, water-powered pulley system to lift cokes from the river cooler to the lookout deck.

Hot diggity dog that's a good hot dog.

Cruising the waterways of the Kingdom. Supposedly that's Tom Sayer out there on that log peeling potatos. Hopefully for the big bucket of french fries I'm gonna buy when we moor.

To infinity and beyond! In other words, time to brave the queue for Thunder Mountain.

It's a small world after all. But at least they didn't downsize it by cutting the most important part. Ka mate!

Time for some splash action at Typhoon Lagoon. Hang on to that hat, the Pinnaple Crusher looms behind that gate.

Rock demonstrates why the target market for the Ab Rocket infomercial is rather expansive (hur hur hur) in this part of the world.

Splashdown! Careful Mei, if I couldn't swim I'm not sure I'd share a raft with that landlubber.


Next stop, the swine flu incubator. Hey, they sell tacos too - that's a bonus!

Mickey Mouse and Friends. Well, Mickey Mouse and another walking profit centre.

In the future GM will make spaceships. Well, I guess Star Trek has brought alternate realities back in vogue.

Disney Hollywood Studios. This was before the Tower of Terror. Afterwards was somewhat less photogenic.

I am C3PO, human cyborg relations. And you are? Another CFA? Oh my, if my memory banks serve me correctly, that's part of the Corrillia system?

Beep dee doo blip dweep. My, but that is much more perceptive than anything Rock could have written.

The reason they never find the Lock Ness Monster is because he decided long ago that a freezing bog somewhere in the Scottish Highlands has got nothing on a nice retirement pond in sunny Orlando.

Ok confession time. We went to the T-rex Cafe. Yep, that's right, we sold out the land of Per Se, Masa, and Gordon Ramsey for the tacky thrills of animated stegosauruses, complete with convenient stroller parking stations.

And you know what? It was pretty darn good. No wonder you don't see many brontosauruses around these days - their ribs sure are tasty.

Last stop, the Lego shop. Why it's the Hong Kong skyline. I wonder if they make a new translucent smog brick?

Double teamed! Take that evil Lego robot, we'll blow you into a million pieces (geddit, hur hur hur).

Team J00ster, you're the last team to arrive... I'm sorry to say, you have been eliminated from the race

Eight cities, nine flights, seven days. Gotta love US domestic business travel, where even the act of handing out a measly packet of peanuts is likely to tip the decrepit MD-80 you're sitting on right back into the Chapter 11 from whence it came.

First stop: room with a view. Santa Monica beach is a welcome sight after a frigid New York winter. I was going to say a breath of fresh air, but this is LA, so let's leave that metaphor for now.

Meltdowns, TARPs, and bailouts seem a long way away out here where the only concern is whether your suntan is perfect and your Hummer will fit all the bags your personal shopper picked up on Rodeo Drive.

Where the beautiful people shop. Which explains why Rock isn't buying.

How many beaches can lay claim to having a roller coaster? Or a parking lot bigger than the beach itself?

Sunset over Malibu.

Northward bound. Next stop the hills of San Fran. Nice hotel, too bad we arrived at midnight and left at 6am.

Now we're talking! In the US it takes three hours to crawl three blocks on a sweltering freeway; in Canada it takes 30 minutes to hop on a seaplane and get whisked literally from hotel door to hotel door. And they play ice hockey up here. 'Nuff said.

The way to travel. Sure beats squeezing into the middle (unassigned) seat on Southwest with an ample Texan on either side.

British Columbia from the air. Who would have thought something with Britain in the name could be this awesome?

General Motors Place, home ice for the Canucks on their quest for Lord Stanley's Cup.

Given their hot form in sweeping into the second round, one suspects their playoff quest will outlast their arena name.

After the endless frustrations of JFK and LAX, it's nice to arrive at an airport where the only time you're number 2 for departure is when an orca or two strays onto 22R.

Room with a view 2, a rare case where the sequel beats the original. Hey, it can work - like Empire Strikes Back. It's prequels you need to worry about.

There's something cool about a flight where the only security check is the Captain's laconic warning to watch the splash as he chucks your bag into the pontoon stowage hatch.

Millionaries row. Or it was, before the dark times, before the GFC. And before Rock walked into the neighborhood and sent the median household income the way of Lehmans.

Hard to believe such picturesque scenes are literally at the doorstep of the CBD.

Looking back at the city from Stanley Park. Yep, the man himself. He also has a rather famous cup named after him, so clearly he did something right.

Local culture in BC.

Maybe it doesn't quite make up for not having time to see the Golden Gate in SF, but still pretty darn cool. The 12km run around Stanley Park is somewhat challenging after too many days of room service, so any photo op, however contrived, is a welcome break.

Don't think that seaplanes have it all their own way on Vancouver Harbor. The big boys still have right of way.

Hang on, is that a beach? There's something seriously wrong with New York when even the Canadians are sunning themselves on the beach right about now. I mean, this is the city hosting the winter olympics and it's still warmer than NY...

Like every good Vancouver citizen, these locals are wondering where they're going to catch the next Canucks game.

Notice how this blog ends at Vancouver? That's 'cause the next stop was Denver...