From Buc-ee's to Mario Bands: What Our Orlando Road Trip Taught Me About Modern Family Travel

There's something magical about watching your rearview mirror swallow up Massachusetts in favor of open highway. Last week, my family and I made the drive from our New England home to Orlando, with a strategic overnight stop in Florence, South Carolina. What started as a simple vacation plan turned into an unexpected lesson about family time, technology, and what really makes kids happy in 2025.

The Unlikely Star of Our Trip

Here's what I didn't expect: my kids were just as excited—maybe more excited—about our two Buc-ee's stops as they were about any theme park we visited. While I was focused on making magical memories at Disney and Universal, they were genuinely thrilled by a gas station with clean bathrooms, endless snack options, and a beaver mascot.

Watching them discover the wall of jerky varieties and debate the merits of different fudge samples, I realized something important. In our hyper-scheduled, app-controlled theme park world, there's still profound joy in the unexpected. The unplanned moments. The simple pleasure of a really good rest stop where nobody's checking their phone to see which ride has the shortest wait time.

When Theme Parks Became Smartphones

Speaking of phones and wait times, when did visiting Disney World and Universal become so dependent on technology? Everything runs through apps now. Want to ride Space Mountain? Open the app. Hungry for a Dole Whip? App. Even our kids wore electronic wristbands at Universal's Epic Universe—one dressed as Mario, the other as Luigi—that turned Super Nintendo World into a real-life video game. They collected coins, gained points, and interacted with various elements throughout the park.

On one hand, the efficiency is remarkable. Food ordering that used to take twenty minutes now takes two. Ride reservations eliminate some of the guesswork of peak times. But I found myself wondering: are we gaining convenience at the cost of spontaneity? There's something to be said for the old-fashioned approach of just wandering around and seeing what catches your eye.

Disney vs. Universal: A Tale of Two Strategies

The contrast between Disney and Universal became crystal clear during our visit. Disney felt surprisingly less crowded than I remembered from previous trips, while Universal was packed. But more interesting was the philosophical difference between the two parks.

At Disney, I rode the exact same Pirates of the Caribbean that I experienced when I was ten years old. Same animatronics, same storyline, same "yo ho, yo ho" soundtrack. It's a Small World hasn't changed a note. The Haunted Mansion's 999 ghosts are still the same 999 ghosts. Disney seems to have made a deliberate choice to preserve rather than innovate, banking on nostalgia as their primary draw.

Universal, meanwhile, feels like it's constantly pushing forward. The technology integration feels more natural, more cutting-edge. The intellectual properties are newer, the experiences more immersive in that modern, digital way.

This made me wonder: Is Disney becoming the theme park for Gen-Xers and Boomers who want to share their childhood memories with their kids? There's certainly comfort in that predictable magic. But watching my children's faces light up more at Universal's innovations than Disney's classics made me question whether nostalgia is enough to capture the next generation.

There is some irony in the fact that their favorite (and mine) ride of all was at the Magic Kingdom: Tron Lightcycle Run

The Power of Unplugging

Perhaps the most valuable insight from our trip had nothing to do with the parks at all. By the time we returned home, I felt more relaxed than I had in months. The act of disconnecting—really disconnecting—from my daily routine had a profound impact on my stress levels. No work emails demanding immediate responses. No constant stream of notifications. Just the road, my family, and whatever came next. While I did use my phone at the parks to plan our day, reserving rides and meals, I didn’t use it for much else. I did use Swarm (RIP Foursquare) to document all the stops we made along the way.

In Florence, South Carolina, we weren't rushing to maximize our park time or optimize our Lightning Lane selections. We were just being together. And maybe that's what made the Buc-ee's stops so special for my kids—they were moments of pure, unscheduled family time where the only agenda was discovery.

What Really Matters

As I reflect on our Orlando adventure, I'm struck by how our kids' joy came from the most unexpected places. Yes, they loved the theme parks and the Mario bands and the efficiency of mobile food ordering. But they also loved the road trip snacks, the weird roadside attractions, and the simple pleasure of being somewhere new with people they love.

In our rush to create perfect, Instagram-worthy family memories, maybe we're overlooking the imperfect, unplanned moments that actually create the strongest bonds. Sometimes the best family experience isn't the one you can reserve in advance through an app—it's the one that surprises you at a beaver-themed gas station somewhere along I-95.

The road trip reminded me that the journey really can be just as important as the destination. And sometimes, disconnecting from our digital world is exactly what we need to reconnect with each other.

What unexpected moments from your family travels have surprised you the most? I'd love to hear about them. Reply to this email and let me know!

Wanna hear more about Buc-ee’s? Here’s a great story from my former Wall Street Journal colleague Jim Carlton about the battle over a Buc-ee’s in Palmer Lake, Colorado.