TRAVEL THERE – WHY I STAYED IN AWFUL ACCOMODATIONS
When I am shopping travel accommodations I have three categories I work with: I just need a place to sleep, I’m going to live it up and this has historical significance.
The historical significant category is easy. I expect to pay more, as in whatever it takes, to stay at the Mena House next to the Pyramids or Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood. Places like these will have a strong demand in any season, the location is out of this world and it takes more money to maintain these places in their historically correct state. I say “whatever it takes”, but that’s only up to a point and the point is flexible, depending on what the going rate is in the area and how much of my travel budget I have already eaten up. In some cases, I may have to settle for having lunch there, like we did at the Grand Hotel.
‘I’m going to live it up’ is often coupled with historical significance, such as our stay at The Cecil Hotel in Alexandria, but there are other reasons I will open our pocketbook. Take the Sanctuary Beach Resort for instance, which is all about location, location, location. The rooms are huge, luxurious and your door opens onto the beach. You are so far removed from the every day that you turn your car in for a golf cart. Delightful! I am more likely to live it up when I’m with Bill, because we share a travel budget and I don’t like to hog it for travels without him.
When I just need a place to sleep, I can get pretty cheap. On this particular trip, I figured out how much was too cheap. In fact, I can only think of one time that was worse and that was a Motel 6 on Sunset Strip. Major mistake.
I will blame it, to an extent, on Covid. While I’m no longer sitting around pining for the old normal, the pandemic has made a significant impact on travel. I always thought if you stayed in a well-known, mainstream motel/hotel you’d be OK. In fact, I assumed the biggest concern was the neighborhood. For this trip, I chose Days Inn, Travel Lodge and La Quinta and they were all awful. Here’s what I said on Facebook when I got home:
The Travel Lodge was the best overall, but they allowed some homeless lady and all her belongings in the teeny tiny lobby, which was also the only way in or out of the motel. I felt really sorry for her and made an effort to help her, but management should never have allowed her to be there for hours on end. They claimed they didn’t know how she got there. How does a lady with a stack of belongings taller than I am, a tub of sodas on ice and empty pet crates get into a lobby and management doesn’t know how she got there? Is that what they are going to say when I’ve been chopped up by the axe murderer? And in this day and age, how do you have a multi-story hotel without an elevator???
Self Provided In Room Snacks at the Travel Lodge
The La Quinta was pathetic. Close to the Little Rock Convention Center, it had once been a very elegant hotel. You could tell by the marble floors and elaborate woodwork, but it needed a complete overhaul. Sliding glass doors that didn’t slide, lights out throughout most of the garage, ice machine didn’t work, dirty furniture in the lobby, an empty pool. Our free breakfast was a bowl of oranges and slices of bread. They put out a toaster, but it had an “out of order” sign on it. How ridiculous is that? Our room was OK, but everything else seemed to be falling down around us. As we left in the morning, it seemed as if the local homeless population thought the exterior areas were a great place to hang out.
And then there was the Days Inn! From the outside it looked OK, but our room was in total disrepair. It was clean. I will give them that, but there wasn’t even a rod in the closet to hang my clothes on and some dog had been locked in the bathroom which clawed off the paint and the door frame. How does that happen in a Wyndham Hotel? I posted a picture of the bathroom on Wyndham’s Facebook page and didn’t even get a sad face emoji from them! Then there was the covered pool with plants growing over it. Don’t get me started!!
Jane Sadek: Facebook 9/26/2022
That pretty much covers it. I was targeting rooms for less than $100 a night. In the future, that will be more like under $200 a night. I might have to cut back elsewhere, but I’m not doing this again.
My tribe knows when I am struggling with something I sometimes say, “I wish God would send me a postcard and tell me what to do about this.” The summer of 2022 was a tough one and I was looking for a postcard.
Our real estate photography business was exploding, which was good, but it brought new challenges. To make it just a little more difficult, our long time editors went out of business with no warning. One morning we got the day’s delivery of images and when we sent a batch later in the day, they apologized and said they were closed down for Covid and they never reopened.
In addition to this, we had two remodels going on. We were adding a sunroom to our house and we had a rent house we were renovating to sell. As soon as the rental’s renovation was over, we put it on the market and had all the headaches associated with that.
The lethal cherry on top was my health. I got an awful summer cold, improved and then got it back. A week or so later after that was gone, I got hives – maddening blossoms of hives, which itched all the time. As a remedy they put me on prednisone, which was almost as bad as the itching, but was only a temporary solution, because a few weeks later I was back in the doctors office. So they gave me another temporary solution. I was half nuts with it.
Then the postcard arrived. Joyce Meyers was having a Women’s Conference called Love Life. I wanted to love life, but wasn’t quite achieving it. I was making it through my days, but there was little joy.
My first thought was that Bill would never let me go. He’d really had a rough time of it when we went to New York a few months previous and the first thing he said to me when I walked into our house was, “You’re not traveling without me, ever again.” It wasn’t because he loved me so much, but because handling both ends of the business and the remodels by himself had been too much.
But I had gotten the postcard from God. I have not been a consistent follower of Joyce Meyer Ministries, but there had been a season when she was very helpful to me. A guy I’d really been crazy about broke up with me and I was having a tough time with it. I knew, for a number of reasons, he wasn’t the guy God wanted for me, but oh, there were so many reasons I wanted him for me. A cornerstone of our relationship had been having lunch together daily and when the relationship was over, lunch hour was a big gaping hole in my day.
So, I created a new lunch routine. I’d pack a lunch from home, go to a park to eat and listen to the radio. It just so happened that my lunch hour was at the same time as Joyce Meyers radio show, “Enjoying Everyday Life.” I love the “just so happens” with God and now it just so happened, I had gotten a postcard.
I worked up my courage and mentioned the conference to Bill. I’ve always enjoyed Women’s Retreats and Conferences. He’d seen me go away with the world on my shoulders, only to come home refreshed and happy. He knew my struggles and he knew I needed it. He didn’t necessarily want me to be away without him for several days, but he gave it the green light.
The next part was the best bit. I told Deborah about the conference and my green light. She was thrilled. A girl’s trip was on!
Though you are reading this in July of 2023, I got the postcard in July 2022. It’s now the end of September 2022 and I just returned from seeing Joyce. I tell you that, because I just made a discovery yesterday, as I picked up the infamous postcard to scan it for this post. I really did get the postcard from God, because it was addressed to a neighbor. For months on end I have had this postcard on my desk and then I carried it with me to the conference. Only now did I realize God had to reroute it from it’s intended mailbox to get it to me.
This is not the first piece of mail I have ever gotten in error, but for the other letters I knew right away they were not ours. About once or twice a month I’ll get one of theirs and walk down the street to put in in their box. When I saw this postcard, I knew without a shadow of a doubt God had put it in my hands. I just didn’t realize until yesterday it hadn’t been because I was on some mailing list, but because God arranged a very special delivery.
Come back next week and I’ll tell you about our adventures – and there were adventures!
Our days were blissful and busy at Club Med Punta Cana. Along with the great food, wonderful entertainment and daily water games, Bill had free tennis lessons, free golf lessons and free access to an archery range. He’s an active sort of guy and he loved making the rounds each day. There was so much to do and it was all free.
Sandpiper Bay was a whole different story. I’ve already told you about the non-existent water games. There were water sports, but they were limited to a tiny bay. Their gym was quite nice, but few of us want to work out all day. Instead instead of spending our days going from one entertainment to the next, we were just killing time.
From the moment we arrived until the time we left, it was one big disappointment. We missed the warm welcome we’d gotten in Punta Cana. The grounds didn’t have the same luxurious tropical feel, because the whole property needed re-landscaping. Our room was sub-par. The food was mediocre and the wait staff was worse. The nightly entertainment was awful. In Punta Cana the G.O.’s (employees) had a friendly attitude and a desire to serve. The Florida G.O.’s (for the most part) had a bad attitude and behaved as if they resented our presence.
There was no archery, which Bill really missed. There were tennis courts, but since I don’t play, Bill needed a partner or a teacher. There was a tournament and lessons for kids, but adults were out of luck. Kids could also take acrobatic lessons. Kids could have golf lessons, too, but if you were an adult all you could get was a bucket of balls. Are you picking up a theme here? Sandpiper Bay is great for families with kids. Bill and I were ducks out of water.
They did have a spa, but I never saw anyone darkening that door and while I love spa treatments, it’s not Bill’s thing and the idea is to do things together. And besides, we spent a fortune for those all-inclusive activities we were supposed to be enjoying.
Back to Our Lives
Four nights were more than enough of Sandpiper Bay. Because our flight home was so early, we only had two full days, but we were ready for the comforts and food of home.
Thanks to my battle over our credits, when I was finally able to book a flight home, the only thing available was a very early flight. Our driver was scheduled for 3:30 AM. How obscene is that? At least it was the weekend, so no business stuff to do.
Our driver was Mr. Chatty Cathy. That early we were barely monosyllabic, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. And there was an hour of that. We were so glad to get out of that car!
Then, even though the employees weren’t even behind their kiosks, we got in the ever-growing line to check our luggage and get boarding passes. Several times someone would come out and fiddle with one of the computers, but they never took down their “Next Window” signs. When they finally came out en masse and began to handle customers, I couldn’t resist starting a round of applause. Several enthusiastic folks joined me.
Never try to get breakfast at the Palm Beach airport. Expensive and bad! And get this, we had to go through Baltimore to get home, but it was a short layover. Really, just enough time to find the gate and board.
Better Luck Next Time
Whether we’re returning from a blissful Mediterranean Cruise or a quick get away here in the Metroplex, Bill and I are always happy to get home, but rarely as happy to be home as we were this time. Our attempt to use up airline credit turned out to be more effort than it was worth and gave us little in the way of memories we could cherish.
Our next adventure was only an overnight about an hour and a half away from home, but we found a treasure I can’t wait to share with you. Come back next week and we’ll go to Pilot Point, Texas!!
While the food was mediocre, the entertainment awful, the rooms only serviceable and the internet frustrating, there were good things about Sandpiper Bay. Last week I told you about the morning yoga sessions and there were other things to enjoy.
Once you escaped from your room, the pools and the bay for water sports were lovely. For the most part, our fellow vacationers were families with kids, lots of kids. They’d stake a claim around the pool and stay there most of the day.
The PoolsFirst
There are several pools at this Club Med and if you have a family with kids, lots of kids, then you might be quite happy at Sandpiper Bay. Most of the families seemed to be having a good time.
There was a water park type area next to what was called the Family Pool. We left that pool to the families, but it looked very nice.
The Main Pool was huge and it also had lots of families around it. We spent much of one day hanging out there. I found a cabana under the trees, a little removed from poolside, where I enjoyed reading for a while and Bill hung out in the water. I’m not a big one for swimming, but I did get in the water with Bill and float around a bit. It was later in the day and most of the kids were taking a nap, so it was quite pleasant.
There was one huge disappointment at the Main Pool. During our time in Punta Cana, Bill had really enjoyed the daily water games, so he was really looking forward to the same thing at Sandpiper Bay. If you looked at their schedule of activities, then it appeared as if the same thing was offered and it was offered, but Bill was the only taker.
We can’t really blame Sandpiper Bay for this, because they did offer, but it was a disappointment. Punta Cana just had a much more energetic crowd. Most of the guests were French, which may or may not be the reason. As it drew time for the Water Games, you’d see people coming to the pool from all over the resort. The pool would fill up and the games would begin. Bill, a natural athlete, was in great demand. At Sandpiper Bay, everyone just waited on their lounge chairs for the daily announcement of games to be over and then they’d let the kids go back in the water.
There’s one more pool – the Zen Pool – and it’s adults only. The day we spent at this pool things were really hopping. Perhaps they should have offered the Water Games at this pool instead. They might have had some takers.
The Zen Pool is much smaller than the Main Pool and the edges are lined with cabanas, but there are no trees. It was quiet in the morning when I took the yoga class, but as the day progressed it would fill up. While there is a bar not far from the Main Pool, with both inside and outside service, it is never as busy as the walk-up bar at the Zen Pool.
The Bay
There is a bay at Sandpiper Bay. It’s got a nice beach and plenty of free water sports. I found it amazing that it wasn’t busier. It was virtually the only thing to DO, if you didn’t want to spend all your time lying by the pool.
We took sailing lessons there and then went out for a sail with the instructor. After that, we could have taken the little catamarans out anytime we wanted to, but I don’t think Bill felt quite comfortable as captain and in truth, I wasn’t much help.
On another day, we took advantage of the two-seater kayak and made our way around the bay a few times. And there-in lies the problem. Whatever water sport you choose to enjoy, you have to enjoy it in the small bay adjacent to the resort. You are not allowed out of sight of the water sport attendants on the Sandpiper’s beach, nor can you land on the other shore at the private beaches of the palatial homes. You begin to feel as if you are sailing around your bathtub.
There is a very nice beach on the bay, but few go there. Perhaps because they only have lounge chairs on the beach. No cabanas and no umbrellas. No bar! The palm trees only offer a tiny bit of shade, so after a few minutes you are broiling.
On the other side of the bay there are more exciting water sports offered for a price, such as jet skis and motor boats. Desperate for entertainment, we walked over there, but the prices were prohibitive. Prohibitive enough that people were staying away in droves. I think the most boring job on the resort must have been the jet ski hut.
The pools are the main attraction at Sandpiper Bay, but we explored the other offerings, such as they were. Come back next week and I’ll give you an idea of what you can do when you’re not in the water.
One of the things I did like about our stay at Sandpiper Bay was the morning yoga. Since I always wake up long before Bill, I am at loose ends until he does. Reading is always a great way to spend my time, but if there’s a gym, I will take advantage of it. What is a hassle at home is a pleasant distraction on the road.
Yes they had a very nice gym at Sandpiper Bay, one of the very best facilities offered there, but they also had morning yoga at the Zen pool. That was my cup of tea. I’d go by the dining room, eat my breakfast bar from home and get a little caffeine to start my day, and then head to the Zen pool.
The instructors were contractors who came and stayed at the resort. Part of their compensation was their room and board. I lucked out the week I was there. Our yoga lady was a pleasant grandmotherly sort who gave us a very pleasant, easy going workout without all the nasty down dogs. I really enjoyed it. Then it was time to go back to the room and work a little.
Time to Work
If the wi-fi is working, my morning tasks for our business are easy. Download the images from the editors, format them for our clients and let Bill inspect them. If anything needed touch-ups or enhancements, he’d do them. Then I upload them and email them off. Easy peasy!
When we’d gone to Club Med Punta Cana, our business had been much smaller and Bill was our only photographer, so we just shut down for a few days. Having to work on vacation is a sign of our success and we are grateful for it, so we don’t like to complain, but I can complain about Sandpiper Bay’s free wi-fi.
Because we were having such a busy season, these tasks were taking up a little more of my mornings than usual, but it was no big deal – if the internet is working. At Sandpiper Bay, the internet was never quite robust enough for downloading and uploading images.
Each day, I’d start the job and it would look as if this time it was going to work, until it didn’t. Then we’d call the office, they’d apologize and tell us they were having technical problems. Then they’d tell us to come down to the desk and pick up a code for the premium internet – which always worked.
Why didn’t we just pay for the premium internet? Why would we pay for premium internet? Wi-fi was supposed to be a part of our package. A Club Med vacation is no bargain. With sub-par food and entertainment that was a joke, why would we want to give them more money? A better question is this, since the regular internet never worked, why didn’t they offer everyone premium internet or at least hook us up until the end of our stay? Nope, that wasn’t the way it worked.
Tricky Timing
We guarantee 24 hour turn around to our clients and usually deliver hours before that. We can do that because our editors are on the other side of the world. We send off the photos at the end of our day, which is the beginning of theirs and they send back the finished product at the beginning of our day. Only those times are based on our activities at home.
To complicate matters, you might remember we’d just lost our favorite editors earlier in the month. They were good editors, but I loved them because they delivered to me very early in the morning. When I hit my office between 5 & 6 AM, they edited photos were always in my inbox. The new editors promised our images by 9:30 and with luck we’d get them an hour or so before that.
On Florida time, everything was running an hour behind and Sandpiper Bay shut breakfast down at 9:30. Crazy right? I’d come back to the room from yoga and crank up my email waiting for the photos to arrive. When they got there, we’d fight the battle of the internet and try to get the images delivered before we started our vacation day, but it was a tight squeeze.
Breakfast is probably Bill’s favorite meal of the day, but he likes it best at say, 11, especially on vacation. At Sandpiper Bay lunch started at 11, so breakfast was truncated. In truth, their breakfast offerings were always mediocre anyway, so I was glad I had my breakfast bar before yoga. Poor Bill was newly disappointed every morning as we ran in at the last minute from all the uploading and downloading.
While I’m on the subject of work, the other end of the day was easier. The photographers email me a link and I email it on to the editors. I could do that from my phone by the pool. There were still phone calls and texts to answer, problems to solve and such, but for the most part, if the darned internet had worked, then handling our business remotely would have been a breeze.
With work done and breakfast behind us, it was time to enjoy the activities offered around the pools and lagoon of Sandpiper Bay. Come back next week and I’ll share some highlights.
TRAVEL THERE – DEFINATELY NOT ON PAR WITH PUNTA CANA
The Dining Room
The happy face you see above only appeared one time in the dining room at Sandpiper Bay and when he actually sat down to eat this delicious looking crepe, he was sadly disappointed.
At Punta Cana we had three delicious choices for dining and we thoroughly enjoyed them all at various times. If it was a buffet meal, the tables were burdened with delicious choices. Whether we should blame stingy management or Covid, we’re not sure, but the one choice we had for meals at Sandpiper Bay was disappointing by comparison.
At Punta Cana, we wandered around multitudes of bounteous tables. We had a large plate in our hands and were allowed to serve ourselves whatever we wanted as much as we wanted. At Sandpiper Bay, they hid the food behind those irritating cough panels and dished up scanty servings of whatever was on for that particular meal.
At Punta Cana, you could always find a waitperson to get you more wine, more silverware, another napkin, whatever you needed. It wasn’t exactly five star service, but it was adequate. At Sandpiper Bay, you were virtually on your own. We figured out where they kept the opened bottles of wine and served ourselves most of the time, but the wine wasn’t as good as Punta Cana either.
At Punta Cana, meal time was one of our favorite events. At Sandpiper Bay we were lucky if we found enough of anything we liked to keep from being hungry. Not exactly the luxury experience we expected.
I hate to keep kicking Sandpiper Bay around the room, but the dining was a pretty sad situation. Before our four nights were over, we did find things to enjoy, but it just wasn’t the experience we’d anticipated from our previous Club Med stay.
The Entertainment
Another marvelous thing about Punta Cana was the entertainment. The Boss of the Village was almost a natural entertainer and you could tell he made his people rehearse. Night after night we saw great shows. They were not professional, but they were something they could be proud of.
The entertainment at Sandpiper Bay was pitiful. It was so sloppy in its execution that you knew all they’d done is have a verbal walk thru. No one had a singing voice worth anything and instead of being funny, they were silly. And sloppy. Did I mention sloppy? Costumes never fit and were barely pulled up over shorts and bathing suits. Wigs were never combed and always awry. The Boss of the Village was there, but she was among the sloppiest and the silliest. She was barely filling in the blanks, not leading the way to quality anywhere in the resort.
I’m not bothering to catalog menus or describe any of the various shows, because nothing was worth noting. We’d show up each night in hopes of something, anything to eat, to drink, to pass the time, but always left a little hungry and very disgusted. None of the other meals were any better, but it was the evenings which were the most pathetic.
Come back next week and I will try to find something worthwhile to share with you. We were together and we weren’t working all the time, so there were good moments. We just had to make them ourselves, because there was little on offer from the resort.
When we stepped off the plane in Palm Beach, we were excited about starting our luxury vacation. Our anticipation was based on our excellent experience at Club Med Punta Cana. We were going to be disappointed!
The Transfer
In Punta Cana, Club Med had provided us with the name of the transportation vendor and other contact information, but we didn’t even need it, because the pick up area was clearly marked and someone was there to greet us.
In Palm Beach, there was nothing. I started going through the paperwork and found a number to call. Suddenly, their absence was my fault. They had texted me and I didn’t reply. There had been no text, but it magically appeared a few moments after I got off the phone with them. I was assured a car was on its way and someone did show up pretty quickly, but that panic after we had picked up our luggage dulled our excitement.
In Punta Cana, the airport is a short drive from the resort and the scenery along the way gets you very excited about where you are headed. The entrance to the property is well-marked and inviting. Getting there was part of the fun.
In Palm Beach, that’s not the case. You are about an hour away from the resort and we had the joy of adding time to that, because we were in rush hour traffic. You’re stuck on a freeway that looks pretty much like any freeway and as you near the property, you start wandering through residential areas. When you finally arrive at the gate, it looks a little bit like the entry to a run down mansion that might be in a horror film.
The Arrival
In Punta Cana, our driver pulled into a drive and right by the van was a man standing at the podium to greet us. Everywhere we looked was lush greenery and attractive buildings. We were ushered from the van to a shaded seating area where we given refreshments.
At Sandpiper Bay, the driver dumped us off on the sidewalk and we made our way into a glassed-in lobby marked as “Registration.” The harried clerk raised a finger at us to let us know we’d need to wait. We stood there and no one offered us any refreshment. In front of the registration office was a rock garden with dead plants in it. Everywhere we looked resembled the dormitories of a second, maybe third rate, college.
After we’d been registered at Punta Cana, one of the GM’s walked with us to our building and let us into our room. She showed us around our accommodations while we waited for our luggage to be delivered. The room, while not luxurious, was very nice and attractive.
After we’d been registered at Sandpiper Bay, the clerk pointed at our building, which was nearby and told us we were on the third floor. The elevator was at the other end of the building from our room. The room, while not exactly awful, resembled my dorm in college with the exception that we did have our own bathroom.
The first thing we said to each other was, “Sandpiper Bay ain’t no Punta Cana,” and that pretty much sums up the entire adventure. On the ride to the resort, I’d used my phone to handle transferring the day’s shoots to our editors. I always feel nervous when I do it that way, certain something is going to go wrong, because it is a very truncated process via phone, but I was ready to start enjoying our vacation.
We’d arrived after happy hour, which was always one of our favorite times on Punta Cana, but I changed into an fresh outfit, touched up my make-up and headed out to have fun. So far, we were less than impressed with Sandpiper Bay, but hopeful things would get better.
Come back next week and join us for dinner. Then you’ll find out if our beach vacation was getting any better.
So, in February 2022 we had Southwest Air Miles we needed to use before June and we usually do something for our anniversary in May. Though the world was crawling out from under the effects of the pandemic, we’re still a little uncomfortable with the thought of international travel. However, we’d like to do something on par with our Club Med vacation in Punta Cana. With these ideas floating around in our heads, who could blame us for choosing Club Med’s Sandpiper Bay for our vacation?
Bill had suggested Destin and I should have taken him up on it, but I’ll be honest with you it was overwhelming. I’m not an experienced beach bum. I’m great at planning cruises, road trips and travel to cities full of museums and attractions, but I don’t beach well. After an hour or so researching the area I was confused and frustrated. I remembered Club Med had a Florida resort, so I floated the idea with Bill. Our Sandpiper Bay vacation was born.
Let the Headaches Begin
Our business runs smooth as glass until we have the audacity to go out of town. Just before I left for New York our editors shuttered their business. One day they are fully operational and the next they are out of business. Bill had weathered that storm on his own and found us a replacement vendor, but that’s just the way it goes when we go out of town.
We’ve gone through a variation of a nightmares as we left for trips. The worst had been in 2021. I stayed up all night waiting for expedited photos from our editors. They were supposed to come shortly after midnight. Instead I was downloading them at 3:45 AM and we needed to leave the house at 4:30. It was also the first time we’d tried to operate remotely. Let’s just say it did not go smoothly.
For our four night visit to Florida, we hadn’t even told our clients we’d be going out of town. We’d hired more photographers since our last trip and if they just had to have Bill, then they could wait until we got home. But the travel gods still played a trick on us. We had more shoots in one day, on the day before we left, than we’d ever booked before. This time the editors had cooperated with me and I had all the jobs delivered shortly after midnight. That meant I was operating on 4.5 hours of sleep, but that was better than the Michigan trip!
Fighting the Air Travel Nonsense
We left home at the designated hour, but the airport was a nuthouse. The first problem was parking. After driving around sections B&C forever, we realized there were no spaces in long term, so we had to go over to section A and pay through the nose when we got home. We had boarding passes, but still had to check our luggage. Then security was crawling. Of course, we were in the last boarding group, so we couldn’t sit together. Instead of spending my air time with Mr. Bill, I had a humongous snoring man taking up all of his seat and part of mine.
The Palm Beach airport is one you can’t get to directly from Dallas, so we had a layover in Atlanta. As soon we landed and I turned on my phone, I was faced with a problem. It was my own fault, because I had overlooked part of an order, but it was just a drone shot, which we were happy to go back out and get that day. We wouldn’t even have to bother the tenants who were living there. Our new/soon-to-be ex client, really wanted to be unhappy about it and did her best to make us miserable, too. At first I was, but after an hour or two of being her punching bag, I decided I was glad she was going to be our ex-client.
Meanwhile, Bill is fielding his own set of texts. He was verifying appointments with out shooters and our clients. It was a repeat of the day before – more jobs than we’d ever handled in one day. Because we were out of town, no way that was going to go smoothly, so while I battled with the witch woman, he handled all the rescheduling that came up.
As all this was going on, we’re deplaning and looking for somewhere to work. Bill saw a Krispy Kreme that looked like a good solution, until we sat down with our doughnuts and hot beverages. Instead of a relaxing coffee break, someone had decided the Krispy Kreme patrons all wanted to listen to rap music at full volume. We endured it for as long as we could and then had to relocate.
Atlanta airport is not a good one for layovers. The comfort of their passengers in transition is not a priority. It was getting nigh onto lunch time, so we started looking for a place for a nice sit-down meal. The only places for that were Carraba’s or an expensive steakhouse. Carraba’s wait list was an hour long and their bar was full.
Looking for a bright spot, I noticed a Varsity. I grew up going to the Varsity as a treat and while I can’t say their food is good, it has enough nostalgia attached to it that I enjoy it. I no longer feel that way. The precision of the Varsity restaurants ordering and delivering did not translate well into the airport location. I’ll leave it at that, but it was bad.
Finally, it was time to get on another plane for the hop to Palm Beach. At least we got to sit together. I can tell you that we got to our destination along with all our luggage, but that was the end of the good news.
Let’s just say the Sandpiper Bay Effect began as soon as we arrived. Come back next week and as if we haven’t already had a hard start, let me tell you what happened next!
Dressing up and going to the Opera had been one of the things Deb and I had fantasized about most as we looked forward to this trip. When we made it back from our trial run for Penn station, I was still raring to go. Deb was done in. She laid on the bed and said she was going to wear what she had on.
Now if you recall, her feet were in serious pain and had been ever since Tuesday night, yet we’d been walking all day, every day. The only shoes she could wear at this point was a pair of kitten printed canvas slippers. She was a little rung out from the train station episode and I’m not sure how much fun it would be to get all dressed up and finish the look with kitten shoes.
Here’s what’s so great about our friendship, I still wanted to get dressed up, so I did and she thought that was great. I pulled out all my finery and as I did, I also started prepping for the next morning, when we’d be going to the christening. That’s when I figured out I had no hosiery for the next day. In Dallas in May, that would be OK. In New York, I figured I would freeze to death.
So, I finished up getting cute and had time to spare to go to our drug store. I have no idea what we would have done without it. We’d gotten foot remedies, new skin for my finger, super glue for my sunglasses, late night snacks, numerous Diet Dr Peppers and now I was going for nude colored hose and something to treat a fever blister. Yep, it’s always something.
We were such pros on the subway now, that we probably could have made it just fine to Lincoln Center, but just to be sure we used Lyft. I could get used to this. Our driver dropped us off right in front and we didn’t even have to think about parking.
I do not have enough superlatives in my vocabulary to describe how wonderful it was to see the Franco Zeffirelli production and sets for Turandot at the Metropolitan Opera House. It is one of my favorite operas of all time and I have seen it a number of times at my beloved Dallas Opera, but there’s a reason The Met is The Met.
Turandot was the Ukranian, Luidmyla Ariltato and she did a remarkable job, but her Calaf was a South Korean, Yonghoon Lee. It was so fitting to see an Asian in this role and he knocked it out of the park, vocally. It really was special in my mind. Deb kept talking about how amazing the entire chorus was. “They were actually moving and acting,” she said, “not just standing around singing.”
Then there were the costumes. They were the perfect compliment to the outrageously wonderful sets created for each scene. If there is perfection in this world, short of heaven, then this production of Turandot is it. I can die happy.
Remember the grand nephew we visited across from St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Well, we made plans to join him for a bite after the show. We had a little difficulty finding his favorite sushi restaurant, even though it was close by. Lyft let us off at Columbus Circle and it was supposed to be right there, only we couldn’t find it. They were just about to quit serving when we finally got there, but we weren’t all that hungry after our feast at the Tavern on the Green earlier in the day.
Then he escorted us to the right subway station and sent us on our way. We made it back to the hotel just fine and felt very New Yorkish to be trotting around so late at night. I know horrible things happen to people on the streets of New York, but we never had a moment’s trouble.
The fun is almost over, but we have one more big event. Come back next week and we’ll take a little train ride.
My mom left me with a long list of travel must-do’s. Never mind I’d managed to go places she never saw. She wanted me to be sure and see the things she had seen or things she had wanted to see, but never made it. Like the Tower of London. She went to England twice and never made it to the Tower to see the Crown Jewels. I’ve done that. She loved Windsor Castle. I still haven’t been there. The list goes on.
Last year I knocked off a biggie – the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island. Now I was in New York, ticking more things off her list. Certainly, the Metropolitan Museum of Art was high on her list, but so was Tavern on the Green. For many years I despaired of ever getting to Tavern on the Green, because it closed down for a while. Not as in a pandemic casualty, but long before that. Various New Yorkers and the City of New York were squabbling over everything from trademarks to vendor’s licenses. According to Wikipedia, Trump (yes, that Trump) came in and made the necessary renovation happen and now the Tavern is back in all its glory.
While I wanted to tick as many items off Mom’s New York list as I could, I also had my own preferences to consider. So, I chose the Frick over the Guggenheim or MOMA and I had the Tavern on the Green as a possibility, instead of a must. Part of me wanted to go ahead and make reservations for that Saturday afternoon, but the other part didn’t want the pressure of rushing through the Frick.
So, with the Frick behind me, we strolled across Central Park (a treat in itself) and made our way to the Tavern. Something I had read told me to go ask for a seat in the bar. Reservations are hard to come by and expensive if you don’t show up, but apparently you could always just ask to sit at the bar.
When the girl looked up and said, “Do you have reservations?”, with a smirk that said, “You out of towners never have a reservation,” I smiled and said, “We’d like to sit in the bar.” We were seated immediately.
I’d like to say we were waited on immediately, also, but that did not happen. We were virtually there forever. I ordered a burger, the most expensive one I’ve ever had and proceeded to enjoy our time in the Tavern.
As we sat there, waiting first for a drink, then for a menu, then for another drink, then to place our order and then the decade to get our food, we watched the entire bar area fill up. The patio outside had been full when we got there and stayed full the whole time. The rest of the restaurant was full, also.
When I finally got the most expensive hamburger I’d ever ordered, it was delicious. I wouldn’t say the best I’d ever had, but certainly a good one. Deborah also liked whatever it was that she ordered, but we agreed the price was prohibitive. Maybe if Mr. Trump invited me to be his guest, I’d go back, but probably, I won’t be back.
The Subway Challenges Us
We had tickets to the other Met this evening – The Metropolitan Opera – but the next day we would be venturing into New Jersey via the train. Deborah was a little anxious about how all that was going to come down, so we decided to make a trial run.
For once, the Subway and its app were not our friends. Apparently, a lot of maintenance happens on Saturdays, when the traffic on the subway is lighter than weekdays. When we’d visited Grand Central Station the day before, Deborah had gotten some information that should have helped us find our way, but that information did not take into account the Saturday maintenance and the app, wasn’t really helpful.
With a little difficulty, Deborah was able to find Penn Station, which is where we needed to catch the train. She found a very helpful agent that walked her through the whole process and relieved her mind. Then we tried to return to our hotel. That did not go as well.
The Metro app and the construction signs were taking us around in circles. We finally left the underground and hit the sidewalk to figure out where we were. That’s when my handy dandy analog maps came in very handily. I’d been referring to them all week, but when electronics failed us, what a blessing those little books were. They helped us get to another part of the subway system not being worked on and then back to our hotel.
It was time to go to the Opera. Come back next week and enjoy the highlight of our trip. We did save the best for last!!
jane sadek 