Making a trip to Disneyland always holds that certain power over our inhibitions to awaken some inner child that, whether we admit it or not, kept us from sleeping soundly the night before.  Once you make it through the entrance, any reasonable adult will transform into a ball of giddiness for spinning cups, high-fives from Goofy, and on hotter Anaheim days, animatronic presidential addresses.  And that’s okay.  Within the walls of the Magic Kingdom, it’s okay to wear  monogrammed Mickey Ears and challenge Gaston to a pushup contest.  That’s why we go there.

It’s hard to think of other places that hold such gleaming nostalgia for its visitors, until Laura and I headed to Mitaka to visit the Ghibli Museum.