All my life, ever since I was a small, little girl, my family and I have been traveling. We've been to Tennessee, Florida, Vermont, and even India.The all carried special memories and moments, and played a major role in my traveling life. Last year, on Christmas vacation, though, I went to one of the best trips...a place where any kid would die to go and get hyper. Pop! Fizzle! Snap! It was the World of Coca-Cola, located in the midst of downtown Atlanta, Georgia. It was located parallel to the Georgia Aquarium. and a block across from the Centennial Olympic Park. It was a place where we could (as they say) “open happiness.”
We had spent a long day at the Georgia Aquarium, the world’s largest, and we were full of fatigue--head to toe. Yet, we were still jubilant, because finally we kids got to go to the World of Coca-Cola, where we could drink as much soda as we liked. Little did my brothers (older and younger) and I know that there was much more to the trip.
Tugging on my black fuzzy sweatshirt sleeves, I was the first to run. When I pushed the Aquarium’s exit door, a blast of cool air filled the gift shop. Tinkling trinkets and souvenirs blinked “sayonara” at me, and the door slammed shut-- after my family came out, that is. Then my little brother and I decided to have an epic race to see who can get across the vacant grassy field first.
“Ready, Steady, G-”
My little bro ran off. Sprinting after him, I started to scream,
“HEY, THAT’S NOT FAIR! I DIDN'T EVEN SAY GO!” I yelled.
“EAT MY DUST BIG SIS! I’M WINNING!!” He yelled back in reply.
He was sooooooooo going to pay for that.He knows I absolutely HATE being called “sis”. I prefer “dude” or “yo”. I don’t even mind being called “bro”, but never, and I mean NEVER, do I want to be called “sis”. Pretty soon, I was a cheetah, chasing its prey. In a flash, I was in front of the dwarf of my brother. I was close to the “finish line”, meaning the side of the Coca-Cola World building. I slowly reached the building, until all of my hand touched the rough, cold surface.
“Haha. In your face.” I said in my little brother’s sweaty red face.
He pouted, making his eyes big and puffing his lower lip.
“Oh, now don’t start crying! It was just a little race.” I consoled him.
When the rest of the family came over, we walked to one of the assistants and showed him the Atlanta City Pass. The guy was wearing the traditional Coca-Cola colors; he was wearing a red shirt and white shorts. He told us that we could cut the ticket line and led us to a glass-made double door. Men dressed in navy blue with badges on the pockets on their uniforms motioned for the line to move forward...I instantly recognized them as the security guards.
Sluggishly, my family moved like an inchworm in the line; my claustrophobia was getting the better of me and the minutes went on. Finally, when we were on the move again, I was able to take a deep breath. No more crowds for me! I thought to myself, happily. Then, my family and I walked forward, and my ear-to-ear smile suddenly dropped...there was another crowd. I thanked myself for jinxing the whole “crowd” thing. We waited for fifteen minutes until the actual adventure started, and let me tell you, it was worth the wait.
When everyone (meaning the whole population of the world behind us) got into the demo room, I stopped and stared at the paintings and vintage accessories in the room. A “Drink 5¢” here, an “open happiness” there. Paintings of the iconic Diva Brown and Marilyn Monroe sponsorship was also shown. But how can I forget the most infamous Coca-Cola symbols--the Polar Bear and the bottle silhouette!
A “tour guide,” if you can call it that, came in and told all of us to sit down or, in some cases, to settle down. I sat down on the black, color speckled carpet and look at the showcase in front of me, with more antiques and paintings. The our guide started to summarize the history of Coca-Cola briefly. One of the most interesting facts for me would be how the image of our Santa Claus came to be--one of the artists working in the Coca-Cola, named Haddon Sundblom, decided to draw Santa for the advertisement the company was going to make during Christmas. Now, he has become the symbol of Christmas for all. The Next place we went to was this theater type of setting; the “guide” said that we were going to see a small preview of The Polar Bears. But first, someone lost their black, orange-striped, glove...it obviously had to be my little brother. He ran, cheeks red from embarrassment, as he went up to receive his glove. I tried to suppress my laugh, but that wasn't happening.
After 30 minutes of watching the premiere for the movie The Polar Bears, we entered this huge gallery type of room with these beautiful red christmas trees made of ornaments and a huge safe called “The Vault”. The only thing I could think, though, was when can we get to the soda? We entered the line of “The Vault” and waited. The line seemed to take a millenium, but until then, I was entertaining myself by taking pictures of the “safe” and by taking some selfies (and no duck faces-- I just hate them). Finally, everyone walked into “The Vault” and I was welcomed with...wait for it...another crowd. But it wasn’t as closed in as it was during the waiting lines, so I was fine with it. I strolled around, looking at the flashing lights and ancient artifacts hanging on the wall. There were also many stories written on the walls, like murals...it reminded me of the song “The Story of My Life”, by One Direction. Then I set my focus back on to the queue in front of me. What was the secret of Coca-Cola and its unique and recognizable flavor? What was the formula? I wanted to know really badly.
Ahead, there was a group of people surrounding something--or someone. Inside the swarm of people, there was a little kid holding a control for the “video game” projection above. I rolled my eyes as the employee in the front started acting very cheesy. Fake smile and fake happy voice. It wasn't hard to tell that she really wanted to get the pressure over-with. I wondered if anything about revealing the formula was genuine, and I was about to know real soon. First, we had to scrunch in with a group of tourists. I started to feel that the World of Coca-Cola like to mock my claustrophobia, because everywhere, there were huge groups of people pushing and pulling. Swaying, pushing, yelling. Then, it was the time we were all waiting for. I was sweating, for there was no air conditioning and we (meaning all the tourists--I guess I should have clarified that before) were squeezed into one tiny space. Then, all of a sudden, there was a twist in the toga. The formula wasn't revealed...it couldn't be shown to the world. I knew this was a hoax!
After my family and I came out of the suffocating are, we explored more exhibits; one of them showed pure Olympic torches, the last one being the one in 1996, where the Olympics came to Atlanta, Georgia. We took some snapshots of showcases, a “click” here and a “snap” there. Sometimes, we would stop in front of a colossal artifact and take a picture; my favorite was this massive mustard yellow Ford T advertising Coca-Cola. Not only was it a shiny vintage car, but it looked so comfortable and I wanted it, but I knew I couldn't get it. But still, I could swear the car was staring at me saying Come for me, child, come for mehhhh. I stared at the vehicle awkwardly until I realized my family disappeared. To looked for them, all I had to do was listen for my little brother’s loud, screechy voice. Then I heard it.
“Mum, look over there, no look here, mum!” he said so loudly, I bet people in Australia could hear him.
I snuck behind them, so I wouldn't get caught “not staying with them.” They didn’t seem to notice that I was there, though, so I was clear. I promenaded with them leisurely, until we got out of that section. I ran into the next one, which basically showed how Coca-Cola bottles were made. Along with both my brothers, I didn’t stop to see anything. The process of bottling was uninteresting and too slow for my brain. My aunt, my grandmother, and my mom, though, were the ones actually looking at the process. My brothers and I sat down and waited, and waited, and waited. It took my parents forever to realize that we were waiting for them to be done taking pictures so we could go see the 4-D Show.
The 4-D show had very few people in line (and I was very happy about that) so we got to go in the “theater” almost immediately. When we did get in, I saw red seats that looked extra comfortable to sit on and rest my tired and sore feet from all the strolling and running we did. I moved in and sat down as quickly as possible because I didn't want anyone stealing my seat. Then I put on my 3-D paper glasses, made of thin cardboard and lenses made of a tape type of thing. Then the movie started. The seat started to rumble as the bike in the movie moved, and water splashed on my face when the character jumped into a puddle. The character found formulas, and the character found secrets. The Coca-Cola bottles looked so genuine and my big brother pretended to reach out to the bottles and drink it; I laughed out loud and everyone stared at me like I was insane. I decided to put my hood up and hide into the sweatshirt so I didn't get anymore glares from the people sitting around me. The fleece rubbed against my face softly, but the movie was finally over when I just started to get comfortable.
“Aww, man!” I whispered to myself, making a twisted, sour face.
“What?” My big brother asked.
Wow, he had a really had a good sense of hearing...or maybe I whispered a little loudly. Either way, no one was supposed to hear that.
“Nothing,” I mumbled in reply.
“Mhmmm...yeah okay.” He looked at my slyly.
I ignored the comment because now, here was the time I have been waiting for. TIME TO TASTE SODA FROM AROUND THE WORLD!! I thought really, really loudly in my mind as we ambled towards the section called “Taste Works.” As we walked in, the floor stuck to my shoes, probably from all the coke people were sampling. The first section we tested was the soda from Asia. The Thumbs Up from India, and the Japanese Fanta were my favorites. The Thumbs Up had this fizz to it, like maybe a dark version of Coca-Cola. The taste lingered in my mouth for a while, and I had this crackling feeling inside of me. The Japanese Fanta was in this cherry lemon flavor. It was kind of like candy liquid, citrusy and sweet;it also had some bitterness to it, but still, it the flavor was distinct and unlike any other soda I drank.
The nest continent we “traveled” to was Africa. Honestly, I didn't really like any except for some candy flavored one...the rest were extra sour, bland, or very tart. The candy one though, was very sugary...maybe a bit too sugary. Its flavor was orange~ish (if you didn't notice, there is an “ish) but it didn't taste as zesty as an orange should. The next place we “vacationed” to was Latin America. Costa Rica’s was the best and had the smack I was looking for. It tasted like rose and was very magenta in color. The pang stuck to my mouth and I felt as if I just walked into a rose garden. It was that good. The biggest disappointment for me, though, was Europe and Australia. All of them were disgusting; I had a sip of one and poured it out into the grill because it tasted soooo bad. How do humans consume this? I wondered. The one that stood out as appealing was probably Kingsley. It had a pang of ginger, and the tang of lemon. Still, it wasn't as awesome as Costa Rica’s rose flavored Fanta. I didn't even bother to go to North America, because I already tried all of them and I know my favorite...it’s FANTA!! My family and I veered ourselves towards this counter, where some workers were giving out Gingerbread Coca-Cola. That was probably my third favorite, after the Japanese Fanta.
The Gingerbread Coca-Cola had the essence of freshly baked gingerbread. It was all heart-warming on the inside, and it sizzled and bubbled in my mouth. Then, as we were exiting, we went into this line with a moving machine and grabbed a free souvenir...our very own bottle of Coca-Cola. Nothing could beat the pure, distinctive savory of that bottle. We entered into the gift shop, and I pleaded my mom to buy my a pin for my pin collection. After that, we walked outside the exit door and what a beautiful sight we saw. Trees were covered in bright red and white Christmas lights, round and round they went, like a train with no stop. Each branch was not left uncovered. But the sight that could not be compared was the beauty of the Atlanta skyline. Tall buildings stood like they were the titans and no one could beat them. It was a view worth seeing. A bubbling sensation ran through, and out of nowhere, I started skipping.
I jumped so high and skipped all the way to the car; also, at the same time, I pretended I was a bird and my brothers and I reached the extremes of hyper-ness. I never, ever felt this good, even during my sugar rushes that I occasionally get while eating candy.
“These wings are made to fly-y-y, and we don’t let nobody bring us do-o-own, no matter what you say it won’t hurt me, no matter if I fall from the sky-y-y, these wings are made to fly!” I started to sing, randomly, into the empty parking lot.
I loved how my voice echoed in the midst of columns and lines. As we settled down in the car, my mom gave us some salty Goldfish as a chill pill for us. CRUNCH! The cheddar and salt blasted on to my taste buds. As I munched on the snacked, the only thing I thought about was how much fun this trip was.I stared out into the starry night, looking at all the stars binding together in the sky, and the huge Coca-Cola bottle disappear as my mom drove the car at a steady pace.I watched the red and white, lit up building fade as well, and turned my head forward. I realized that the true opening happiness means to spend time with those who you love, such as family. Togetherness always make things better, and who knows what will happen in the future. It is no wonder why this trip, even though I've been to so many, was special to me.