Pure Imagination

When on safari at a game park in Africa, the key phrase is "the Big Five"--elephant, rhinoceros, buffalo, lion, leopard. You must see at least one of those animals to feel fulfilled. When on safari at a theme park in Lake Buena Vista, Fla., the key phrase is "the Big Three"--imaginary animals, extinct animals, real animals. What more would anyone expect from Walt Disney World? Its newest theme park, Animal Kingdom, combines fact with fantasy to offer convenient and economical advantages over the animal kingdoms in Africa that everyone raves about.

Disney's imaginary animals (mythical creatures encountered on an otherwise tame boat ride down Discovery River) and its extinct animals (skeletons of triceratops and Tyrannosaurus Rex, in Dinoland U.S.A.) are mainly for the kids, as are the dinosaurs that are brought back to life on a high-speed journey back 65 million years in time. Dinoland also has a tropical trail along which you can spot Chinese alligators, softshell turtles and other survivors of the prehistoric world. Safari Village runs a cute 3-D special-effects film, It's Tough to Be a Bug, that gets laughs and gasps from any kid at heart.

But the serious fun for everyone is Kilimanjaro Safaris, a compact 20-minute adventure in an open-sided truck that takes you over bumpy trails through 110 acres of wilderness. Unlike the African savanna, Disney's wilderness is without blemish. There's no dung, no dust, no insects, no radical temperature drops, no need for malaria pills. And the animals seem content in this sanctuary, which is about as close to an African safari as you'll get in the United States. About 1,000 animals, representing 200 species and including pelicans, monkeys, zebras, crocodiles, hippopotamuses, rhinoceroses, giraffes, lions, elephants and cheetahs, roam in plain view of safari passengers.

In 20 minutes, it's not unusual to see at least half of the animals just named. Not so on an African safari, where passengers can ride through the wilderness for hours, coming upon nothing but a few small animals. Disney's explanation for this ingenious feat is that throughout the park, trees, stumps and rocks (don't look too closely; you might see hinges on those rocks!) conceal feeding stations for the animals. In order to eat, the animals must move from feeding station to feeding station, which ensures that they will be seen.

Passengers on an actual African game drive might learn survival techniques along the way, such as how to respond to an approaching animal or how to determine which way is north, judging by a termite mound. They also learn to analyze dung (Is it thick or runny? In pellets or in clumps? Located near grass or near trees?) to ascertain what animal dropped it. This activity, which lets them know whose trail they're on, creates a great deal of suspense and anticipation, the heart-racing feeling of stalking game.

Disney's Animal Kingdom safari eliminates the hunt and the survival lessons and replaces them with a plot involving poachers who must be caught before they kill the park's elephants for their ivory tusks. It's a little hokey, and it hinders your ability to ask questions of your "ranger," but it in no way detects from the excitement of seeing wonderous elephants wallowing in waterholes, graceful gazelles grazing in high grass, or the rare white rhino simply standing before you.

The lessons missed on the safari can be learned at other stops in Disney's "Africa": Pangani Forest Exploration Trail encompasses a bamboo jungle with gorillas and an underwater pool with hippos (both behind glass), as well as a forest of exotic birds; Conservation Station offers a backstage view of what veterinarians do; and there's a petting zoo intimately called Affection Section.

After a long day in the wilderness, settle down at the Rainforest Cafe for a tall, cool margorilla. Then prepare yourself for Disney's other three adventurous theme parks.

COPYRIGHT 1998 American Visions Media, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2000 Gale Group