Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Fiasco

So on Saturday we went to Doors Open Toronto, for the first time ever. A friend (the Mom of one of M's school chums) told us they were planning to go to the Cadbury chocolate factory, and would we like to join them? Of course we said yes; kids, chocolate, cool old architecture? How could we go wrong?

So, it's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and we head down to the factory. It was about 1:15, and we expected the line to be pretty huge. And it was. Thankfully, parking was not a problem, for which I am very grateful. We got in line, and a few minutes later, M's friend and his family showed up. The kids were happy just to be together, never mind the factory. Which is good, because we were in line for an hour before we actually got to go in. But when it was finally our turn, the kids were cheering and whooping with joy. And then we went in.

So here's the scene (are we all wearing our imagination caps?): you're in the front foyer, and there's a person there to greet you and tell you about the building. Then you see the map, and after a very brief perusal realize that there are, including the foyer where you are now standing, FOUR THINGS LISTED ON THE MAP. They are:

• A (two-room) museum, where you can see some really old chocolate paraphenalia, and get to visit what was, until recently, the president's office. There are many relics placed around the office, few or none of which were protected, which left the poor soul manning the office constantly having to ask everyone not to touch anything.
• A sort of meeting room with a small raised stage where they were giving lectures about the chocolate making process. I don't know about you, but while M would be thrilled to WATCH chocolate being made, there ain't no way he's going to sit still and listen to someone talk about it
• The store. Ah, the store. The store, you see, isn't usually open to the public. It isn't even open to employees. The only time the company opens it is for school tours. Now compare the size of your average class tour to the literally thousands of people coming to see the factory on that one day, and you begin to see the next logistical nightmare looming. Add to that all the people who had been standing outside in line for so long, only to discover there was nothing actually to SEE, and who, in frustration, decided that, at the very least, they were going to buy some chocolate thank you very much, and you have a recipe for, well, a mess. So they could only let people into the store in small groups. And the store only had one cash register. And the two people working the cash were both volunteers, and while I have nothing but admiration for their ability to remain cheery in such a situation, it was obvious they did not have much, if any, retail experience. So, believe it or not, we were actually in line in the store longer than we were in line outside to get in. Luckily for the kids, the one thing the store did have was a large electric train table right smack dab in the middle of the store. So that kept them from going completely insane with still more waiting.

Oh, and the air conditioning had not yet been turned on. Of course.

So, by the time we got out of there, we were very relieved to get out of there. We had seen nothing of the factory floor or got to see how chocolate was made; we didn't get to see barely any of the old architecture of the building; heck, they didn't even tell us the Caramilk secret! And then, to top it all off, as we're trying to drive home in what has become a very hot day, we hit a protest march coming along Bloor. At that point, we began to think some higher power was trying to tell us something.

I hope the Cadbury folks learn from their mistakes this year; I appreciate that it's the first year, and things are going to go wrong. But if the factory is open again next year, let someone else go first and tell you if things have in fact improved.