Route 192 is a trip
Saturday, June 28th, 2008Since the kids were with the grandparents on Saturday night, we slept late on Sunday morning. No parks were planned, just the requisite hour and a half tour and time share promotion, packing and winding down.
I was not looking forward to that tour, but we had to do it to confirm the incredibly low rate we got for the condo. We got lucky. Our Club Navigo sales rep was a nice young man who was suffering the consequences of a Saturday night out carousing and did not feel like pressuring us to buy something in which we had absolutely no interest. He gave us an overview of the program and then we talked story about his future nursing career. We assured him that there were lots of pretty young women in Hawaii if he came to work in the Aloha State and were able to be on our way in exactly 90 minutes.
This was not only the end of our family vacation, but the beginning of our summer spent apart. The first good-bye came Sunday afternoon. Our youngest daughter went home with her grandparents. She will spend a month with them visiting other family, going to camp and enjoying the Florida sunshine.
Before the rest of us boarded our flights for various destinations, we took a tour of Highway 192, the main road in Kissimmee off of which our condo rested (right outside of Orlando, near t exit 64, Disneyworld, from I4.)
This east/west stretch of busy highway was a phenomenon in and of itself. It reminds me of the Las Vegas strip back in the days before it exploded into its present upscale demeanor. My husband suggested the Jersey shore.
Alongside the three lanes in each direction are clusters of diners and gift shops and mini golf courses and “Worlds of Merchandise,” with huge billboards calling out to potential patrons promising cheap food, cheap park tickets, other great deals and tons of fun—exactly what the tourists want.
TOTALLY TACKY.
Our in depth investigation of this American phenomenon of kitsch and commercialism involved three stops: World of Denim, The Cracker Barrel, and Fun Time Gift Shop.
We passed World of Denim in each direction every time we left our temporary abode towards amusement park mania. It called to us daily demanding our attention and perhaps our cash. Assuming that the world is our oyster, we finally obliged.
As is with much of that which is material, looks can be deceiving. World of Denim proved a disappointment, more like a town or perhaps neighborhood. Jeans Wherehouse has a much better selection. However, we proved true blue and bought a pair of jeans and some khaki slacks for my husband. All was not lost.

Our next stop, Cracker Barrel, was awesome. The food, the the service, the homey atmosphere and even the gift shop all hit the spot.


The menu is southern fare and there were several items I’d never tasted before. My husband had grilled catfish which was the best dish served to our table. I ordered collard greens which tasted a lot like kalua pork and cabbage. We put hot sauce and vinegar on top which made it a delicious side dish.

We skipped dessert and headed for the gift shop which had one of the best candy selections we’ve run into in a long time.

One pecan log and box of jellied fruit slices later, we were on our way to the next stop: the most garish gift shop we could find. It wasn’t hard, there were about three within two long blocks of each other, all advertising $1.99 t-shirts and 2.99 beach towels. We picked the most accessible and pulled into the parking lot. Consensus was that we were full and tired, so we just took a few pictures and headed back to the condo.

And thus ended our tour of this main drag. We tidied up. checked our packed suitcases and went to sleep early. Departure for the airport would start at 6:00 am so my husband could catch his flight to Kentucky where he will be working this summer.
Our older child and I will move on to the Boston area where we will visit my sisters and a few friends and hang out for another two weeks before returning to Hawaii and our lives and our home.














