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.
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.