I know marketing. I know when I'm having my emotional buttons cunningly pushed. I know that there are many things from my childhood that have faded out of memory. Things that, if I encountered them now, I'd probably just pass right by.
I also know that I should find the prospect of crowds and queues annoying. Yet somehow the night before a visit to Hong Kong Disneyland I can hardly sleep. I feel a tangle of excitement coiling up, butterflies even. It shouldn't affect me like this. How do they do it?
As a kid, just about the most exciting thing I could imagine was a trip to Disneyland. Occasionally a posh friend might head to California during school holidays, returning with mountains of astonishingly flavoured bubble gum (Grape! What will they think of next?) and mesmerising tales of a day or two at Disneyland. It was too much for this kid.
