What Disney Wishes it Was

You know when you go to Disneyland/Disney World and there are the streets with fake painted houses and shops and cobblestone streets? All part of creating a magical illusion of some adorable town accessible only when wrapped in plaster, plastic, and loads of paint. Disney wakes up everyday and wishes it was Mackinac Island and you know what, it doesn't even come close. 

The second you step off the ferry, the sweet aroma of honeysuckle and lilac mixed with a slight aroma of horses wafts over your now happy self. The main street is made of cobblestone from the late 1800's and the shops are painted a calming sea foam green, lavender, lemon yellow, and peach. Sleek, muscled horses line the streets tugging cargo to the restaurants or waiting to take you on a guided tour. Bikes of all colors with adorable baskets practically grab your wrist with the excitement to drag you along the beautiful trails beyond the main street. 

The houses are out of a fairy tale with their victorian meets the seaside architecture and fantastical colors of teal, bright purple, lime green and some not as exciting creams and whites. 

As you finally move past the roaming tourist lined streets you and your eager bike take in the breathtaking sight of a white rock lined beach kissing the bursting forrest of green. The water is so clear it almost seems fake. Instead of the tropical turquoise of more Southern areas, the water is a lush, deep blue with hues of glimmering white and gold- it also, in case you are wondering, is freaking cold no matter what month you go there. The forrest is better than any tropical one. The paths throughout it are matted softly with fallen pine needles and the variety of wildflowers is astounding for such a little place. Mackinac even plays host to the carnivorous plants, bladderworts. Growing carnivorous plants bumps anybody and anything from decently interesting to the top of the top of everything. Ever. 

Another scent I forgot to mention that eventually draws one back from exploring trails and rock arches is the scent of freshly made fudge. And ice-cream...though that part of the delicious smell is technically the making of waffle cones. Either way, the plethora of these smells spells H-E-A-V-E-N for me. 

The only negative thing about the island is known as The Grand Hotel. Not only is it the filming sight for one of the lamest love stories Hollywood has ever produced, but it also is the meeting spot for some of the world's most snobbish individuals. As I was trying to capture a picture of the hotel (from the street. On my bike...) one of the bellhops felt it his duty to descend from his perch on the steps and take the three minutes to walk over to me and inform my street rat self that it would cost ten dollars for me to take pictures from my current location. Forty dollars if you want to sit in the lobby folks. Too bad this hotel exists on this island because without it, it might just beat out Moab for most coveted place in my heart.

Today was fantastic and all I could have ever hoped for and more...well, except for the fact that M& P are currently NOT sharing their SIX pounds of fudge they bought with Sel and I. I am so happy Sel, Madre, Poptart and I were able to explore such a beautiful portion of the world today. Hope you all get to go someday too and that your parents are giving enough to share their fudge with your starving selves! (We are two minutes from Canada right now and what says fudge better than fudge?!)