TRAVEL, WRITING

How Are Your Holidays, So Far?

Travel There:  A Special Year Ahead

We’ve been a lot of places together this year.  As the year began I was still telling you all about our wonderful adventures in Egypt.  I shared some advice about cruising and then went on a short cruise of our own.  In August I finally wrapped up the series on Egypt and moved on from our Cheapie Birthday Cruise to the wonderful surprise of our trip to Club Med Punta Cana.  Along the way, I returned to my Travel Bug Tales and took you along on a Caribbean holiday from my younger days.  We’ve also been walking down memory lane with photography and scrapbooking.  

Why Do I Do This?

There’s been a lot of blogging this year, but that hasn’t been all I’ve been up to.  I also began sharing posts from our Spot On Images blog and some memories about my parents’ home, which is on the market, but that’s just another way for me to let people know what I’m up to.  I really don’t spend all my time traveling and writing about traveling.

I say that, because from time to time folks quiz me about blogging.  They’ve heard there’s lot of money to be made in it and they’re wondering how I’m doing.  Well, if income is the goal, this blog is a complete flop.  I don’t make one red cent from it.  If I say nice things about a destination, then I mean them sincerely and because no one pays me, I can tell you honestly when things disappoint me.  If you click on a link, there is no pay-per-click arrangement.  I’m just sharing the information in case you’re interested in finding out more.  You won’t find an advertisement anywhere on my pages.  In fact, I pay a premium to have a site without ads.

Now, people do hire me to build websites for them and to blog for them.  When they do that, I make money, but I use the information they give me and write with their voice.  I’m fortunate almost all my clients have been people I can heartily endorse, so writing about them is a pleasure, but you’re not going to find me endorsing them here and making a buck off of it.  This blog is a labor of love.

My sweet husband thinks I’m nuts to spend so much time writing words for a few hundred people or so – especially when there is no monetary benefit to it.  He still doesn’t understand that even if no one was reading, I’d still be spending my time writing.  Like John Keats, I can say, “I should write from the mere yearning and fondness I have for the Beautiful even if my night’s labours should be burnt every morning and no eye ever shine upon them.”

Taking a Blogging Breath

I’m about to embark on the pleasure of sharing my most recent travels with you, but I’m saving it until after the first of the year.  We just got back from Cancun and I can’t wait to tell you about Chichen Itza.  Before the year is over, I’ll be heading to the southern part of Texas for some time with family and friends.  You’ll hear about that, too.  I’ll also be continuing the series on photos and scrapbooking.  Travel Bug Tales will return and we’ll go to… Well, someplace magical.  I’ll leave it at at that – but you’ve got other things on your mid right now.

The coming year is going to be very special, because Bill and I are celebrating a landmark anniversary – our 25th in May.  We have a humdinger of a trip lined up in June to mark this milestone event.  I’m bubbling over with excitement, but like the upcoming series for Travel Bug Tales, I’ll keep you in suspense a little while longer.

I’m taking this little break from traveling to remind you of all the places we have been together this year and to thank you for taking this journey with me.  A few of you actually leave a comment from time to time, but I also hear from so many of you through other communications that you are out there, taking my trips with me, sharing my memories and enjoying the ride.

Thank you so much.  You mean so much to me.  While I’d write, even without an audience, it’s so much more fun to write when I’ve got you on my mind.  As I shuffle through my memories I think, this friend will remember this adventure, that cousin will enjoy that series of mishaps and my blogging friend over in England will get a kick out of this.

Enjoy your holiday celebrations.  You’ll be busy and so will I.  I’ll see you right here next year!

ART, Photography, Real Estate Photographry, TRAVEL

Hello to Real Photography

Bill and his camera at Stone Mountain. I took it with my disposable!

TRAVEL HERE: MARRYING INTO BETTER PHOTOS

I rarely run short of reasons to be glad I married Bill.  I may, at the same time, be so mad at him I can barely breathe, but the mad times come less frequently as we near our 25th wedding anniversary and when they do, they are short-lived.  He really is a wonderful man and he’s so darned handsome.  He’s also an amazing photographer, just ask any Spot On Images customer.

The 35mm vs The Disposable

By the time I met Bill, the Instamatic’s days were over and done with.  The digital camera was breaking into the market, but they were pretty expensive, so this working girl couldn’t afford one.  Most people were using some form of a 35mm, but not me.  I had a hard time finding film for my Instamatic, but I had discovered the disposable camera and that worked well enough for me.

Enter Bill with his fancy Canon Rebel.  By then he was already pretty darned good at photography.  He’d had some lessons and was fairly serious about the medium.  My disposable cameras probably made him a little crazy, but he was trying to romance me, so he left me to my point and shoot bliss.

Well he almost left me alone.  He gently began to introduce me to 35mm.  Not only did he think disposable cameras were a waste of money, he rightly pointed out the poor quality of the results and coerced me into giving his camera a try.  I guess here’s as good a place as any to admit he not only introduced me to 35mm photography, he also made me learn how to use a mouse and had me sign up for my first personal email address.  In other words, he brought me into the 20th Century, which was already on it’s way out.

Where’s the Auto Button?

His first attempts at turning me into a real photographer were not so good.  He was all about F-stops and exposure.  All he could get me to do was use the Auto Button.  Twenty-five years later, I’m still all about the Auto Button, but I do appreciate what he is able to do with a camera.

About this time he also decided to get a camcorder.   Video cameras were this huge thing you had to carry around on your shoulder and there was no sound.  Over time the cameras shrank and they figured out how to include sound.  Bill entered the market when Hi8 was all the rage.  If he had thought it was tough getting me to use a 35mm still camera, he quickly realized that was nothing compared to getting me to hold the camcorder.

That sneaky guy bought the camcorder into time capture his proposal – quite a treasure.  His plan was to get me up to speed on the 35mm, so he could be the videographer.  What happened was he ended up being the primary cameraman, regardless of the media, and I filled in when he forced me to.  Thanks to him we have a marvelous record of our early years together – yeah Mr. Bill!

There’s more to tell you about our photographic history together, so come on back next week!

Accommodations, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Frances is Found

TRAVEL BUG TALES: AN ANTI-CLIMATIC REUNION

So the phone rings and it’s Frances.  She was so nonchalant you would have thought she was calling from the lobby.  She’d gotten word in town that someone was missing out at the resort and she figured out it was her.  She was headed back now and we were to be sure the boat didn’t leave with out her.  We were taking a sail on a catamaran and having lunch on a deserted island.

Best Activity of the Trip

Yep, Frances is the one adjusting her sunglasses.  She sashayed into the resort and onto the boat like she’d been with us all the time.  Most of us know that feeling of never having wanted to see someone quite so much and also wanting to kill them at the same time.

The catamaran sail was lovely.  The water was beautiful and the weather perfect.  We sailed to an abandoned beach and hung out on the sand while locals barbecued fish for us.  I avoided baby oil and there wasn’t much wind.  The meal was good and soon we were headed back to the resort.

A little change in itinerary would have improved my opinion of this trip.  The first night should have been the Live Show, with dancers, swords and flame.  That would have gotten us off on the right foot.  Then we should have taken the catamaran and had our picnic.  What a great introduction to the Bahamas!  My salt water showers would have been much more bearable.

Farewell Party

I have no idea whether our final evening was an official event or just something cooked up among us.  The bar was serving conch balls for appetizers and we never made it to the buffet.

And remember the all-inclusive thing?  Well, all that was included on that evening was the first drink.  Even though we were in the bar for hours on end, we could never get a second one.  Instead we made trips out to the pool and communed with the coconut rum crowd or poured our coins in the Heineken beer vending machines.  The rumor existed that someone in the crowd had found a machine that would dispense the beer without the coin, but I can’t say for sure.

I was ready to go.  Though we’d all come to the party together, when I’d finally had enough, both Frances and Debbie were missing.  Someone invited me out for a walk on the beach, but fresh air was not what they wanted.  No love connection was made.

Instead, I went to my room, but I couldn’t get in.  Someone else had made a love connection and they were using the chain lock to keep me out.  Now I was just mad.  This had been no tropical paradise for me and I just wanted to go to to bed, which was currently being used by someone else.

While $219 hadn’t been a lot of money, even in those days, I felt as if it were money down the drain – money I could have used for something else.  I even resented the quarters I’d put into the slot machine.  Someone offered me the opportunity to sleep on their couch, but I wanted my pjs and my toothbrush and I wanted to take out my contacts.

There had been fun moments, but they’d all been overshadowed by disappointment.  The memory of the night at the local club had been compromised by the trick the limo drivers pulled on us.  The sandy beach experience had sidelined me.  The casino had been a bore.  My almost love connection had been washed out by a storm.  The delicious planter-punch-drenched meal was marred by my friend’s disappearance, that went on for entirely too long.  The only really entertaining time had been the sail and picnic, but just a few hours later I was sitting alone fighting tears.

I went back to my room and banged on the door.  I negotiated a pass-through to our room’s balcony.  Soon my friend and her latest romantic interest joined me there – as if I wanted their company.  Then my other roommate showed up.  I’ll leave the identities vague to protect the guilty.  Thank goodness we were leaving the next day.  I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

I’ll head home next week.  Don’t miss the flight!  I’ll see you then.

 

Accommodations, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Frances is Lost

beach birds calm clouds
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

TRAVEL BUG TALES: WHAT DO WE DO NOW?

When Frances didn’t return to the hotel the evening after her boat ride, we were concerned but we still thought she’d show up, eventually.  We took a survey among our fellow travelers and the consensus was we were worry warts.  Frances had made a love connection and we’d hear from her soon.

The Day After

Well, she didn’t come home that evening and if she was having a good time, well then, that was OK, but geez, couldn’t she send a smoke signal or something.  This is where the whole cellphone thing comes in handy, but it wasn’t a thing yet.  Back in our day, people not only didn’t have cellphones.  Sometimes they didn’t have phones at all.  It wasn’t inconceivable the casino dealer didn’t have a phone.  He’d called her the other day, but it could have been from a pay phone.  We didn’t even know his name.

Debbie and I decided to stay around the resort, so we’d know whether she showed up or not.  We refused to stay in our room by the phone, but we wanted to be reachable.  There was a low buzz filtering through the resort.  Someone was missing.  Damn kids, some would say, so irresponsible.  Oh my goodness, others would say, and encourage us to contact her parents.

Contact her parents!  That’s the absolute, very absolute last thing we wanted to do.  We talked about it and decided it didn’t make any sense.  Frances was going to show up and then we’d all feel very silly – but what if she didn’t?  What if she was at a hospital somewhere, in need of her asthma machine?  Never, ever, never do this to your friends – ever!!!

By the end of the day we talked to the Adventure Tour people.  We didn’t want to alarm them, but we’d lost Frances.  They didn’t seem all that worried.  They did a lot of these college tours and someone was always disappearing, but they always showed up, just in time to catch the plane.

I’m pretty sure this is the evening we discovered two things, coconut rum and that a store across the street had Dr Pepper, along with other American things.  We borrowed big plastic iced tea glasses from the buffet, filled them up with chipped ice and poured the coconut rum over the ice.  The first time we may have sprinkled a little Coke over the concoction, but we soon dispensed with that altogether, sitting in the dark around the pool enjoying the smooth liquor.

There was no pretending now.  We were worried sick about Frances and we began to wonder why we’d waited so long to sound the alarm.  We’d be on TV.  People would stick their microphones in our faces and ask us why we hadn’t notified the authorities immediately.  Heck, we didn’t even know who the authorities were.  Adventure Tours was in charge of everything and they’d blown us off.

Debbie and I both still felt she’d show up, but we were also worried sick she wouldn’t.  If you drink enough coconut rum, you will go to sleep, even if your friend is missing.  The next morning the phone rang.  Who was calling?  Come back next week and find out.

Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

The Plot Thickens

Gilligan's Island PosterTRAVEL BUG TALES: WHERE IS FRANCES?

I know exactly how the families of those stranded on Gilligan’s Island felt.  Frances left us to take a little boat tour and then she was gone – just gone.

We’ll Show You!

OK, we were disappointed when Frances didn’t return to the hotel that afternoon, but we weren’t surprised.  We had a special event that evening, one she’d gotten us lined up with, so we were sure she’d show up about five minutes after we were supposed to leave.

We absolutely refused to be upset about this.  We were dealing with Frances and that’s just how she was.  Only she didn’t show up.  We climbed into the transportation arranged for our excursion and headed off to another part of the island.

While Frances did have a tendency to run late, she wasn’t otherwise irresponsible.  Debbie and I agreed that we weren’t happy about her absence, but it would be silly to make a big deal of it one way or the other.  We were going to enjoy our outing and ignore that little twinge that kept saying, “What if something is wrong?”

Dinner Was Also Late

So we arrived at the restaurant, which was full of happy patrons, to discover that somehow they didn’t know we were coming.  Not to worry, have some planter’s punch and chill.

So we had some planter’s punch and then we had some more and then we had a little more.  See, the planter’s punch was complimentary and it was also very, very good.  It was also strong enough to knock you into next week.

Now if Frances had been with us, I’m sure she would have negotiated some wonderful compromise and we would have been served al fresco out by the sea.  But Frances wasn’t there.  Whoever had decided they were in charge instead did not have her skills.  We were sequestered in a side room and drowned in planter’s punch, but the only other thing we got were promises.

In spite of being three sheets to the wind, we began to realize our transportation would soon be coming back and there was no food in sight.  We’d paid for dinner and there hadn’t been any.  Now I will confess I was so out of it that I have no idea what all went on, but there was a lot of it.  Remember, there are no cellphone, no Uber, no UberEats – nothing.  We’d missed the dinner buffet at the hotel and there was no Mickey D’s.  Somehow it was communicated to our transportation to come a little later and eventually, we got a table.

I have to tell you, that’s one of the best seafood dinners I ever had.  I’m sure it helped I was starving to death, but that wasn’t all of it. Everyone agreed we’d been lucky to find out about this place and have the chance to eat here.  We decided it was worth the hassle of waiting – and besides, the planter’s punch had been amazing.

As we dug into the bounteous feast, the food soaked up the alcohol and I began to come out of my haze.  By the time we left, I was stone sober.  I hoped that Frances would be there when returned.  Come back next week and see if she was.

DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

You’re Going Where?

TRAVEL TALK: FRANCES MAKES A LOVE CONNECTION

While we’d been focused on whether or not Michael and the gang were going to make it to our end of the island or not, apparently Frances had been fielding some other calls we’d been totally unaware of.  When we woke up on the fourth day we discovered Frances had other plans.

Frances in Charge

So, at SFA I’d met Frances before anyone else.  I remember her introducing herself the first day and helping my family carry in my stuff.  Frances was an operator.  By the end of the first week she had a connection to pretty much everyone on campus. She was constantly heading off to this party, that trip or another hot date.  As I said, she was our organizer.

At the same time she had health issues.  Allergies to this or that.  Asthma bad enough to need one of those inhalers and for good measure, on this trip she’d brought along some mechanical devise we were supposed to hook her up to if her inhaler didn’t do the job.

She was also late to everything, always.  It was her trademark.  Debbie and I knew that when we planned the vacation, but it was just part of Frances.  You take the good with the bad.  However, it did get a little irritating.

Every morning it was something.  She’d be the first one to take a shower and be sitting on the sofa waiting for us, but as we started to walk out of the room, she’d start to paint her finger nails.  Just as every bus driver closed the door, she’d be the one to say, “I forgot __________, can I go back to my room.  It will only take a sec.”  If it had been me, they would have told me to just catch the next bus, but folks always waited on Frances.

A Different Sort of Morning

Debbie and I were just about through with Frances and her shenanigans.  We loved her, but everyone on the trip had begun to paint us with her brush.  Every time we showed up, late or not, there would be some sort of verbal jab at our roommate.  Like contestants on Survivor we’d conspired to band together and whatever Frances dreamed up that morning, we were leaving her behind.  Someone had to let her know her behavior was unacceptable.

Only we didn’t get the chance.  She was ready to head out the door when we did and she had her beach bag all packed up to go.  She was going sailing with a dealer from the casino.  What? When? Where? How?  Somehow she had met one of the dealers at the casino and made a date to go sailing today, because it was his day off.  One of the many phone calls the night before had actually been from him and they’d confirmed he’d be there to pick her up this morning.  And then she was gone. She promised to be back in time for dinner.  We were going out to a special restaurant with a small contingency from our group.

Well that was a fine how-do-you-do!  I think this was the day Debbie and I rented bicycles and took a little tour of the resort and its surrounding.  There wasn’t much, but Debbie had spied some ladies selling craft goods on the road to the resort and we used the bikes to get there.

While I’d faced disappointment and frustration on this trip, I was about to become acquainted with fear.  Come back next week and find out why.

DESTINATIONS, International, TRAVEL

What’s a Little Rain?

close up photo of coconut tree
Photo by Suparerg Suksai on Pexels.com

TRAVEL BUG TALES: A TROPICAL THUNDERSTORM

Into each life some rain may fall.  You might say we had a little shower while we were in Grand Bahama.

The First Phone Call

We’d had dinner and were waiting for the guys we’d met that day to come join us.  While we’d been given tickets for all the activities we were supposed to attend at the resort, we’d learned early on that one’s presence was enough to get you in. No ticket was needed. So the guys were going to come see the show with us and then we’d hang out.

As we waited in the lobby, a staff member said we had a call and it didn’t matter which one of us took it.  I’m pretty sure it was Francis who talked to them, because she was the organizer on our end.  The borrowing of the car was not going as planned.  We were to go on to the show and they’d be along a little later. 

I was actually quite relieved.  It was the age of the pick-up.  There was a sort of game going on where guys must have gotten points for obtaining phone numbers, but were put in the penalty box for using them.  The fact that we’d actually gotten a call boded well.  We went to on to the show and watched native dancers, swords and a lot of fire.

gray rotary telephone
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The Next Phone Call and the One After That and…

We left the show with a skip in our hearts, but instead of three guys waiting in the lobby, we had a message.  They were still working on getting to our end of the island, but things were not exactly going well.  They’d make the next call to our room.

Now this day and time, we’d be texting like nobody’s business.  We’d already be friends on Facebook, Twitter, SnapChat and Instagram.  Uber would have made getting to our side of the island both easy and cheap.  Millenials have no idea what they are missing!

I don’t remember how many calls were exchanged after that, but they got the car, then it broke down.  They found a taxi driver who would come out there and then the guy changed his mind.  We got tired of dancing attendance on the phone and suggested we try again tomorrow.  That’s when we found out they were leaving the next day.  It was now or never.

I was trying to keep it light, but somewhere along the way it was Michael that called and he wanted to talk to me.  A humdinger of a storm had hit and there was no way they could make the 30 mile trek out there.  The storm wasn’t out our way yet, so at first I thought it was just a blow off call and I teased him about it.  Before I could get off the phone the wind picked up and it was obvious we were in for some violent weather.

I can’t remember exactly what Michael said to me that evening on the phone.  He seemed genuinely distraught.  He reiterated all the reasons we’d clicked and none of them had anything to do with looks.  I can’t even remember if it was business or the military or just the end of a vacation that was taking them away, but whatever it was,  he and I both regretted it.  We marked it up to fate and went on with our lives, but when I’m playing what-if with myself, that evening is one I entertain.

Since those days of innocence the cynical side of me has suggested he was probably married with three kids, a dog and a mortgage.  Who knows? Maybe that’s so.  But who knows, maybe it’s not.  Whatever the case, this vacation had just delivered another blow.

We’d been there three days and each one offered more in the way of disappointment than anything else.  Was my love of travel going to be able to withstand all this?  Come back next week and find out.

Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, Shopping, TRAVEL

Let’s Go Shopping!

TRAVEL BUG TALES: SOMETHING I WAS GOOD AT

Three days into my tropical vacation I was finally excited about something.  We pooled our resources for a limo (one way only) and headed to Freeport.  I was happy to finally be on familiar ground.

We Hit the Sidewalk Shopping

Our limo dropped us off at a shopping area near the casino.  Each of us had a list of people to buy for and some cash to spend.  This one wanted a watch, someone else was looking for jewelry and I’d heard you could get good deals on porcelain and crystal.  My list really just consisted of Mom and Aunt Edie, so I took an interest in what everyone else was looking for and helped them in their search.

When it came to understanding what was a bargain among the luxury items we saw, my friend Debbie actually had a better grasp, but I was the one with a good sense of direction.  I was able to maneuver us around the shopping maze with ease.  We browsed around all morning and at the end of it, I was able to direct everyone back to the place they’d seen their favorite thing for the best price.  I got some Wedgewood pieces for Mom and Aunt Edie.  I was going to get my dad a golf cap from the resort.  That just about did it.

What’s for Lunch? 

We’d heard from somewhere that the best place for lunch was at the Freeport Princess snack bar.  Like the shopping area, the Princess was near the casino.  I have to confess that when I got there I wished we were staying there rather than out in the boonies.  This place was happening.  The clientele was very different from the families with 2.5 kids and the college students we had out at the Grand Bahama Hotel.

That’s where we made the love connection.  The guy in the solid yellow shirt and bell bottomed jeans was Michael and he was a hunk.  It was one of those across a crowded room sort of things.  He had a crew of friends and they sorted themselves out among my friends, but Michael and I had energy.

The guy in the white jeans and hat was the organizer of the group.  He pointed the conversation towards the guys coming out to see us on our end of the island.  Michael and I were happy to go along with whatever anybody else dreamed up as long as it meant our chance encounter would get an opportunity to develop into something.

It was nearing the time we’d arranged for our limo to return and pick us up.  The guys planned to borrow a car from somewhere and drive to our end of the island.  It seemed like a great plan.  After all the disappointments I’d endured so far, it seemed as if my vacation prospects were picking up.

There was giggly girl talk all the way back to the hotel.  While Michael and I had been an item from the get-go, the other connections were still pretty loose, so there was a whole lot of bargaining going on.  We all agreed on one thing, Michael was the hunk of the bunch and he was all about me.

We had dinner at the buffet and started watching for the guys.  Come back next week and see how that went.

Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Casino Night in Freeport

TRAVEL BUG TALES: PUTTING ON THE RITZ

It’s at least a little ironic I’m going down memory lane at one resort on Mondays and sharing my latest trip to another resort on Wednesdays.  While Club Med Punta Cana is on the other end of the quality scale from Jack Tar’s Grand Bahama Hotel, I’m exactly the same person.  I’m just not much of a relaxer.  I completely failed at relaxing on the beach.  Let’s see how I do at a casino.

Primping for Our Big Night

Gambling was completely new to me.  I grew up Baptist and Baptists don’t gamble.  Well, I’ve heard my mom loved slot machines.  Let’s just say I had never gambled.

When we got back to our rooms after a day in the sun, it was time to get all fixed up for our big night.  That’s why tanning had been such an important activity for the rest of my friends.  Women in evening gowns.  Men in tuxes.  Fortunes won.  Fortunes lost.  Every hair had to be in place.  I’ll admit it was a little frenetic and I tried very hard to plug into the energy source.

As you can see in the photo, my spot by the pool without baby oil, rendered me just about the same shade of brown as the other ladies.  With my uber short hair I had less to worry about while getting ready.  My mom, the slot machine queen, gave me a roll of quarters to play the slots with.  I slipped them into my little evening bag with great anticipation.

Frolicking in Freeport

Then we boarded the bus for Freeport.  How very touristy of us!  The bus dropped us off on the side of the casino, allowing us to stroll to the door and pretend we did this all the time.  Since nothing is scarier than a clump of women desperately looking for a good time, my friends and I headed off to try our fortunes at the tables, but I assure you, we weren’t the least bit interested in winning any money.

My first stop was the slot machines.  I did pretty well to begin with.  I more than doubled my roll of quarters, but almost as quickly I was empty-handed.  I figured out, Baptist or not, gambling was not my thing.  It felt like I had just taken a perfectly good pair of shoes and tossed them in to the traffic.  Next time someone gave me a roll of quarters, I was going to do something better than lose them in a slot machine.

My winning and losing had taken what?  About 15-20 minutes.  Now what was I going to do with myself during the hours I was stuck there at the casino.  While I have no trouble being the life of a party where I know a lot of people, throw me in a room with a bunch of strangers and I want to find someplace to hide.  Instead I looked for places to lounge while trying to pretend I was cool.

Just like at the beach earlier in the day I had the sense that I should be enjoying myself, but I wasn’t.  In my many strolls through the casino between lounging sessions, I’d see my friends, ordering a drink, playing a game or chatting with someone.  Meanwhile, I was just trying to look cool rather than desperate.

Eventually the bus did return and I got to quit working so hard at having fun.  Everyone had stories to tell and I was able to just oooh and aaaah.  When they turned to me for my report, I laughed about how much money I’d had in my possession for such a short period of time.  When they wanted other details, I said I’d spent my time people watching.  It was true.  I’d spent my time watching everyone else have a lot more fun than me and wondered what kind of disease I had that was keeping me from properly enjoying this vacation.

So far, the best part of the trip had been dancing at the local club and reading by the pool hadn’t been so bad.  Up next was a shopping trip.  Now that’s my kind of activity.  Come back next week and see how I do.

Accommodations, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Is This Supposed to be Fun?

Debbie and Francis on the Beach

TRAVEL BUG TALES: THE BEACH IS NOT MY FRIEND!

So there I am in the Bahamas with some of my best friends from college. I’m in my early twenties and have spent my life taking vacations on the beach. It’s our first full day at this tropical resort and we’re going to spend the day hanging out in the sun and sand.  This is supposed to be fun, right?

Everything Starts Out on the Right Foot

We’re on vacation.  We sleep late.  We get into our cute swimwear.  We head out to the beach.  We find a spot to line our towels up on the sand.  We grease down our bodies with baby oil – sunscreen wasn’t yet a thing.  We lay down to soak in the sun.

So far so good – right.  Then the breeze kicks up.  Do you know what happens to your greasy body when the sand starts blowing.  I guess I didn’t or I wouldn’t have put the baby oil on in the first place.

My Beach Frame of Reference

See, my beach world had been very different.  The only hanging out we did on the beach was the early morning when we’d go beach-combing for shells and you didn’t need suntan lotion in the early morning.  We’d spend the rest of the morning shopping and then make lunch for the guys who had been golfing.  After cleaning up from lunch we’d head out to the beach en masse and mom would put some suntan lotion on us.  Please note, this was not your soccer mom’s sunscreen.  It was only supposed to keep you from burning and was not designed to protect you from harmful rays.

Here’s the trick.  We didn’t lay down on a towel.  We hit the water and stayed there.  There would be floats for playing in the surf, but most of the time we’d just jump with the waves as they came rolling in.  The Lides had a net and we’d seine for treasures.  We’d play with Frisbees in the surf or play some catch with a beach ball.  We wore ourselves out and yet we still complained hours later, when every inch of our skin was shriveled from the water and our mom would insist we had to get out of the water.

We’d grab a towel from the pile, wrap it around us and head back to the beach house where showers and naps would fill the late afternoon.  For dinner we’d head out and eat at some incredible seafood restaurant.  Once back at the beach house we’d play games, sing songs and talk about life.  

“I Don’t Like This Place”

The moment the wind covered my body in a thin sheet of sand, I stood up and said, “I don’t like this place.  I want to go home.”  This tropical vacation was ganging up on me.  First, they put me in a cinder block room with a salt water shower.  Then they expected me to get in line for every meal and fill my tray like I was still back at SFA.  They also expected me to play bingo and then when I revolted the natives ripped me off in a classic tourist trap move.  Next thing I know I’m supposed to want to lay on the beach covered with sand – and I’m supposed to like it.  I wanted my mommy.

I’ve never been much of a complainer. I’m more of a let’s-have-fun-anyway kind of girl.  I think the very fact I was complaining must have shocked my friends and to boot, I had tears streaming down my face.  They got that I was dead serious.

Let’s Fix This

Debbie and Frances jumped up and put me under a beach-side shower-head.  One friend sat me down in a pool-side chair and the other went to the snack bar to score me a burger and some chips.  Then someone put a book in my hand.

I soon realized how completely juvenile I’d been.  Blood sugar may have had something to do with it, because we’d slept late and missed breakfast.  I began to laugh at myself, which meant that now my friends could laugh, too.  We made an executive decision.  I was not allowed on the beach.  I’d sit next to the pool and read my book.  They moved their towels to be closer to me and everything was all good.

One of the reasons my buddies were so interested in getting a tan had to do with the evening’s entertainment.  Adventure Tours was loading up a bus and taking us to the Casino in Freeport.  Everyone had packed a special dress for the occasion.  Most likely we had visions of meeting some version of James Bond in his tuxedo and we wanted to be ready.

How did that go?  Well, come back next week and find out!