Where do I begin? This place will never need Hank Paulson to bail it out since it has a GDP that likely exceeds that of most developed countries judging by the outrageous entry fee; which, by the way, does not even get you a single apple or a sip of cider. After a cute little train ride where we had to suffer through embellished lies about the history of the orchard, we were deposited on one of the 180 acres to pick our apples. The apples must have been on one of the other 179, because we could not find a single apple on any of the trees! The most efficient part of the whole operation was the cashiers who held you up at the beginning of the journey, and their counterparts who were ready to "assist" you at the exit (what a surprise!) I will only return if I find myself in need of more self inflicted pain, like the time I opted for elective root canal!
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