Mexican Rivera 12/16/19 - 12/18/19

     As it’s been way too long since my last big trip, I decided to do something unusual for Christmas this year.  Initially, I thought to travel to Los Cabos since there’s nothing better than a trip to sun and surf in the middle of winter.  After a chat with one of my co-workers (thanks Chere!), I decided to take the full plunge and make this trip a series of firsts.  If I was going to go to Mexico for the first time, why not make this an opportunity to take my first cruise as well.  The embarkation point is from San Francisco, a city I’ve also never visited?  Sure, why not!

     I’ve wanted to take a cruise since I was a teenager, but it just never happened.  There was always that dreaded single supplement to consider.  For those of you not in the know, cruise tickets are based on double occupancy meaning that any initial price would require an additional payment for anyone traveling solo.  I’m already cheap.  The last thing I wanted to do was pay for another person who wasn’t there.   It felt like I was being punished for being alone.  I’m just trying to take a trip while not getting guilt-tripped in the process.

     Fortunately, the Princess cruise I spotted did not have this pesky extra.  It was about $2,000 for a 10-day cruise that would stop in Los Cabos, Mazatlán, Manzanillo, and Puerta Vallarta before returning to San Francisco.  I took two weeks off from 12/16/19 to 12/28/19, giving myself a couple of days in San Francisco, and made ready to set sail.

San Francisco 

     My first and only California trip was way back in 2002 when I visited San Jose and L.A so I was really looking forward to seeing more of the state.  Just finding my way to the BART station in the airport was tricky enough.  After wandering around SFO confused for several minutes, I finally got to the old trains that serve as public transport in the BAY area.  I'd been warned about seeing weirdos on the train but managed to reach my destination without incident.  The trains were spacious but had definitely seen better days.

     I reached my stop which I was told was in walking distance of my hotel.  All I know is there were a lot of people, buildings, cars, dogs, food carts, you name it.  It was enough to get me completely confused as I lugged my huge suitcase around.  After finding the fancy Marriott, the nice doorman directed me to the one I could actually afford.  If I could find it.  I ended up on the right street but passed by the hotel.  I had to turn around to see the front entrance – which is not the way you get into the building.  I didn’t realize before booking that the hotel is under renovation.  The front entrance is closed so you have to go around to the side which is covered in scaffolding and temporary walls.  You can’t even see the sign indicating the entrance unless you’re passing right by it so, of course, I had entered this street on the opposite side of the building.  Great.

     By this point I was exhausted and had seen way more of the city than I’d intended right after my flight.  But at least I'd found my way to the lobby -- which looked like Beirut.  There was dust everywhere, plastic covering everything and, if you hit it at the wrong time, the very loud noises of construction.  The room was actually very nice.  Beautifully decorated with a view of the busy street below.  I loved the long red couch and the big bathroom.

     I set out the next day for sightseeing.  There was a bunch of stuff I wanted to do in the city; walk through the Sequoias, visit the Ghiardelli factory, see the seals at Pier 39.  But given that I only had the one full day, I quickly realized that was too much to expect.  I did some walking around, a little shopping, stumbled onto Chinatown.  I’d intended to go through the scenic gate but got turned around and had arrived too early for anything to be open thanks to the time difference.

    San Francisco is a very walkable city.  There were always people everywhere and different pop-up produce shops and booths, food trucks and performers.  I wasn’t sure how much of this was for the holiday season and how much was just normal S.F. but it was all interesting to see.  Except for the homeless.  I knew before coming here that California as a state had a massive homeless population and a serious problem with drugs.  It’s one thing to read about it or see a video on YouTube.  It was something else entirely to see the tents set up by the train tracks, to have a man in a wheelchair claiming to be a veteran asking for change, to have to skirt past a man standing and twitching by the entrance to Target.  It was very humbling.  And highly depressing. 

     I found my way to the Embarcadero, the street that runs parallel to the ocean.  I passed a bunch of shops, following the numbered piers from 1 all the way to the big tourist spot, Pier 39.  I loved the festive air of the place with the big Christmas tree and the live music.  I had some yummy clam chowder in a sourdough bowl (in a café with pigeons flying in through the open door), did some shopping, and saw the famous seals. 

     Going past this pier, I traveled to the end of the Embarcadero onto Fisherman’s Wharf.  There were more shops and restaurants here as well as the turnaround for the trolley cars.  I really wanted to jump one and hang on to the edge as it traveled but not in that weather.  It wasn’t too bad while walking but I knew it would be too cold in a moving vehicle.  And these vehicles didn’t move while I was there.  I didn’t want to wait for them to get going so I kept walking.

     I tried in vain to find the chocolate factory, but by this point I was exhausted.  I made the long trek back to the hotel.  There was way too much of the city left to explore so I will have to go back at some point.

     Embarkation day, 12/18/19 started off wet and gloomy.  My legs were still shot from the day before, so I knew there was no way I was dragging all my baggage to the pier in the rain.  My hotel was a bit a hoof from Pier 1.  The boat left from Pier 27.  Cab ride it is!

     I already knew how nuts it was to walk in the city.  Being in a car took it to a whole new level.  There were so many one-way streets, bus-only lanes, and pedestrians everywhere I knew there’d be no way I’d ever try to drive here. 

     Pier 27 was a big, warehouse-like building.  After handing off Big Red to a porter, I wound my way around the building, up an escalator, and into a long line of people.  They checked my passport and handed me a bunch of paperwork including my cruise card.  The card, I'd find out later, would be used as currency all over the ship, in the shops and for any alcohol.  It also served as a room key so they advised you to never let it out of your sight.  

Big Island Day 6 -- 4/14/17

     Travel time.  And yes, it is going to suck.
     Five legs: Kona to Maui, Maui to Hilo, Hilo to LAX, LAX to Houston, Houston to Atlanta
     Sigh.
     I loaded up the car, proud that I hadn't bought so much junk that I had to check any extra bags.  I was just about to call Gigi and let her know I was leaving when she appeared outside.  We talked a bit and she gave me a hug, asking me to consider coming back to her place if I ever return to the Big Island.  Even though I had my issues with this trip, Gigi's hospitality was not one of them.  She was nothing but warm and accommodating and I have no problem recommending her place to anyone thinking of visiting Kona.
     Back to Huggos' for breakfast and the same smiling waitress who remembered me from the day before (I do love having waitstaff who are happy to be there -- way to earn that tip!).  I decided, begrudgingly, that I didn't have time for Hapuna and also didn't want to carry around a wet bathing suit onto 5 different planes.  I did a little driving around, finding a pier with a million boats in dock before going to the airport.

     Returning the car to Avis was a hassle.  I'd already called them earlier to make sure they wouldn't have a problem with me dropping the car off here instead of returning it to Hilo (despite the plane riding nightmare that would follow, I'm still glad I didn't make that trip).  After waiting forever for them to find bigger vehicles for the people in front of me, I got grilled on where I'd parked the car and why didn't the attendant see to it.  Beats me, it's not like I knew where I was going.  The lady printed off the exorbitant bill and handed it to me without another word.  Well, I guess I'm done then.  I went outside to wait for the shuttle, already in a foul mood.  Wouldn't get any better from there.
     I do like Kona Airport.  Like a lot of Hawaiian hotels and restaurants, it's mostly open air.  There are awnings to shield the machines and computers but for the most part, it's not inside an actual building.  We even boarded the plane from the tarmac, a rarity in my travels.

     Kona to Maui -- A pretty decent flight, no issues.  I did love the view of the mountains on Kauai before we landed in Maui.
     Maui to Hilo -- Delayed.  About 10 minutes before we were to begin boarding, there was an announcement that our plane had gone back to Honolulu for some reason and we would take off about an hour later.  I wasn't worried -- it was still early and my flight out of Hilo didn't leave until 9 pm.  Then, an hour later, after another load of passengers had already left from our gate, we we told that there was a gate change.  Mass exodus to the other side of the airport, some more waiting, and finally, we were out of Maui.
     Hilo to LAX -- Yeah ... As much as I liked Kona Airport, and Maui is on my favorite island,  I am not a fan of Hilo.  It is old, musty, and entirely indoors.  So, of course I'd be waiting here the longest.  I grabbed some dinner at a funky little diner (the only one in the airport) then parked myself at the nearest outlet to satisfy my tablet addiction.  After waiting for about twenty years, I heard exactly one announcement for our flight.  I went to the restroom, came back out and the entire waiting room was deserted.  I guessed we were boarding so I hauled it up the escalator to the gate.  Since I'd come in on a flight, I still had to get my tickets and hurry into line as my zone was already waiting to board.  
     United Airlines -- again, not my favorite but the only one leaving the island at the right time.  There are no USB ports on this flight, just some obnoxious screens in the headboards of the seats that are way too bright. They also tend to turn themselves on at random times even after they've shut off.  Cramped again as my knees are directly against the seat in front of me.  I really need to pay more attention to my seating arrangements -- I always make sure to have a window seat but I need to be in the front row of coach.  I kept having this voice in the back of my head saying 'deep vein thrombosis' and I'd have to shift in my seat again.  Not helpful in getting much sleep on this overnight flight.
     LAX to Houston -- On the good side; my next gate is about 20 feet away from my arrival gate.  On the bad side; the carpet in this terminal is filthy.  There were huge stains everywhere making me not want to even put my bag on the floor (everything got Cloroxed when I got home).  It's early here, not even 6 am, but my body is confused.  Even though I should get something to eat before the next flight, I really wasn't hungry.  The roughly 2 hour layover goes quickly and then it's onto the next leg.
     Houston to Atlanta -- I've never been to Houston before.  It's a small airport with a short open air train that took me to the next gate.  I found the first place where I could get a real breakfast and sit down to enjoy it.  There's a cool diner in the airport with a wide view of the tarmac.  Good breakfast, but I was so tired I barely noticed that I had a hon waitress ("What can I get you, hon?"  -- my absolute favorite).
     Yet more waiting and knowing that even after I get to Atlanta, there's still a train ride, a walk from Sandy Springs MARTA to my car and a nearly hour long drive before I'm home.  Yuck.  We were in the hall ready to get on the plane when they announced that the plane's air conditioning had shut off.  Back up the ramp to wait for another hour until it was fixed then we were boarding again.
     At two hours long, the flight is mercifully short but I am wiped and just want to be home.  Not go home, be home.  Grateful again that I had only carry-ons, I got to Atlanta and onto the train.    You ever notice how the journey to a destination usually feels longer than the return trip?  Well, that was not this case this time.  This whole trip took way longer than it should have and I was feeling every bit of it.
     But still ... car is fine, house is standing and I'm very grateful to have made it home safely.  A little weird still to enter an empty house -- my last pet, Beata, got sick last month and I had to put her down.  I had her for almost 14 years, making a total of 20 years with the three pets so I'm still getting I'm getting used to truly living alone.  Something else that's weird; five years ago, I lost my other cat, Jonah, went to Hawaii, and saw my favorite band in concert.  This year, Beata passed and I caught Duran Duran the night before flying out for this trip.
     As always, thanks for your attention.  I still recommend that everyone visit Hawaii at least once.  Even though the Big Island wasn't for me, I'm sure it will work for others.  There are still beaches, seaside dining, and friendly faces to give you that full Hawaiian experience.

Mahalo and Aloha.
   

Big Island Day 5 -- 4/13/17

     Last full day on the island.  Birthday #46.

     I gotta say that this has not been the best trip.  As much as I love Hawaii (and will still return), there have just been too many elements that I haven't liked.  The long drives (again, due to poor planing on my part), the gray beaches, little water time, and this general sense of fatigue that has hung over me the entire time means that I'm not getting the usual island buzz.  But, as this is my last day, I think I've finally rested enough to risk getting back in the car for more exploration.

     After getting breakfast at this great place called Huggo's (another restaurant directly on the water with really great views and a waitress who kept thanking me for everything), I was headed north.

I had made plans to leave out of Kona Airport the previous day so I wanted to get a sense of how far away it was.  There were also several beaches and communities up north left to see.

     Getting onto Queen K Hwy, I found Kona pretty quickly.  North of there were turnoffs to neighborhoods separated from the road by long roads wending through the middle of nowhere.  Again, there were just huge stretches of nothing but piles of black rock and soil.  Then, suddenly, civilization.  One community I visited was huge; there were separate clusters of private homes, condos,  and rental properties all surrounded by a golf course (had to be on the lookout for carts crossing the street) with a shopping center in the middle.  There was a beach around there somewhere but I never found it.  I stopped to take a look around and saw a shop where you can arrange for adventures.  I had tried to get on a boat the day before but, just my luck, I ended up at one of those time share scams instead of an actual shop.

     Traveler's Tip #4 -- When looking to book an island adventure, be it snorkeling, helicopter tour, surf lessons or whatever, always make sure you can clearly see a list of prices on display.  If you see a kiosk and there are no prices visible anywhere, run the other way.  Unless, of course, you're interested in a time share on the island.  And make at least $75,000 a year.

     I'd caught onto the time share sham a bit late in the pitch.  The dude had already called the snorkeling boat and booked my 'free' seat.  But by the time he tried to arrange for me to go to a certain place at a certain time and listen to a pitch, I realized that getting on a boat that day was not worth spending two hours of my Hawaii time, on my birthday, listening to some high-pressure pitch for deal I couldn't even afford.  I got out of there in a hurry.  

     The disappointment continued on this day when I tried to book a last minute helicopter tour.  I've never been on one and figured a birthday in Hawaii was an excellent chance.  No luck though.  The most popular tour that flew over the volcanoes and around the entire island before returning to Kona was all booked up.  The only other available flight merely circled the northern part of the island which I was already doing by car so I passed.
     Heading further north with no real goal in sight, I passed a sign for Hapuna State Park.  Hey.  I've heard of that beach.  Might as well take a look.  Paid $5 for parking, found a spot in the decent sized lot and started walking.  Past the parking lot are picnic areas, restrooms and a path leading down to

arguably the most gorgeous beach I've ever seen in my life!  Who says the Big Island doesn't have beaches?  If I had done my homework beforehand I would have found out that Hapuna is considered one of the best beaches in the state.  And when that state is Hawaii, that's really saying something.

     If I'd found this place on my first day on the Big Island, I probably would have spent every day here.  The weather was absolutely gorgeous, the beach wasn't too crowded, and the water was great.
     And here I am without a bathing suit.
     What an idiot I am!!  Yeeeeeeshhhh!
     As much as I wanted to get in the water, I had to settle (ha!) for walking along the shore and getting my pictures.  Then I sat on the rocks for a while just looking at the water.  Then I sat in one of the picnic areas where there was a nice breeze and just chilled out.  Can you tell I didn't want to leave?

     But there was more to explore on the Kohala Coast.  I left Hapuna, thinking that I might be able to come back on the way to the airport the next day and went on to the beach at Mauna Kea.  To get to this one, you have to go through a security guard.  He asked me where I was going, warning me that there may not be much parking left but he'd let me in.  Parking is really tight here as this beach is part of another community and only a small piece of land is given over to beach parking.  But I managed to find a space and took the rather long path to the water.  You can't even see sand from the parking lot or most of the trail but once you pass by the bathrooms the ocean comes into view.

     This one is nice.  But Hapuna has it beat.
     Stayed for a little while before starting the trip back to Kona.  On a whim, I followed a sign stating food and gas off of another side road.  Let's just say the gas tank had better not be on E when hitting this road.
     It's a least 3 miles of this before you even see the community.  This is what gets me about driving on the island.  It's not like I need to see a mini-mall or convenience store every few feet but so much of the terrain is completely barren.  Being such a large island (every other island in Hawaii could fit inside this island with room to spare) and the youngest island in the state, it would make sense that much of it is just volcanic rock.  Still doesn't make it any less depressing to drive through.  
     After taking a short tour around the community and getting back on Queen K, something finally occurred to me.  I mentioned seeing the swimmers in the little bay where the Iron Man starts.  I also saw several bikers on Queen K as this is the road where the 112 mile bike portion takes place.  But all along my trip, I'd seen clusters of cars just parked in the middle of nowhere.  There was nothing to see, no construction sites anywhere and no one around the cars.  I couldn't understand what they were doing there until I figured out that these cars belonged to the bikers.  It seemed they would just pick various areas along the road, unload their bikes and be gone.  I've already mentioned how hard this road is to drive.  I really can't imagine being on it on a bike.  For a hundred miles.  In the hot sun.  If I didn't already admire triathletes ...
     I ran into some traffic, a complete stop on this two-lane road that reminded me way too much of Atlanta, as I was heading back to Kona.  Stopped off at Bubba Gump's again and had a lovely salad and multi-colored cocktail while watching the sunset then returned to the hotel.

Big Island Day 4 -- 4/12/17

You know it's not going to be the best day when you awake to a flooded toilet.

There's a little sign on the toilet that says "Slow flush, hold for 2-3 seconds".  I thought I'd done that the previous night but apparently not.  I'd been gone the previous day and hadn't pounded the porcelain when I got back so it all came down to me, on the eve of my 46th birthday, not knowing how to flush a toilet.

Great.

Dummy me tried to 'fix' it by jiggling the handle and ... well ...Those extra beach towels in the room came in handy mopping up the mercifully clean water slowing flowing out of the bathroom and towards my suitcase.

 
This all happened at 5 am.  I'd already had a restless night only to be awakened by that freaking rooster crowing.  I know there are plenty of birds on the island, including wild chickens, that roam around.  But did one of them have to be directly outside of my open windows?  And, oh yeah, I need to use the bathroom.  Sigh.

After cleaning the floor as best I could, I gave it a couple of hours before I woke Gigi.  In the meantime, I got dressed and went to the restroom on the beach. By the time I got back, it was around 8 and I made the embarrassing call.  I was glad she was already awake and cool with it.  She shut off the water (why didn't I think of that?) and told me the maids would be coming soon and she'd just tell them to hit this room first.  Being a bed and breakfast, the rooms aren't touched while occupied (works for me -- I had plenty of towels and didn't need the room made up every day), so they'd have to make a special stop while I was out.

Traveler's Tip #3 -- There are free parking areas off of Ali'i Dr -- don't automatically go for the very visible paid parking lots.  The public lots are usually hidden but if you follow the signs and get there relatively early, you won't have to pay exorbitant rates to park.  I ended up spending almost $30 on parking before I figured this out.

I went back to the restaurants on Ali'i Dr, got some breakfast and did some walking around.  At the end of the drive is a pier with two small areas for bathers.  There's a wide stone wall beside one of them.  I dangled my legs over the side and got a great view of the clear water and a bunch of swimmers starting to train.  It took me a minute to realize that this is the exact area where the Iron Man begins.  I have always been fascinated by triathletes.  You have to be tough to even get through the swimming portion let alone follow it up with the biking and running.  I watched the folks go out and waited for them to come back in.  It seemed to take forever and I wasn't even the one putting in the effort.  I can't imagine actually training ...

On the far side of the other bathing pool, the hotel had set up their party area.  Two dudes were already out there preparing the pit for a luau.  I still need to attend one of those -- just can't keep my eyes open long enough to get there at night.  Maybe next trip.

    

Past the pit were historical sites cordoned off from the main area.  This included a 'castle' of one of the old rulers of Hawaii and some kind of altar.  Kind of strange to see these artifacts in the middle of all the modern activity.

I did some shopping and then back to the hotel to get my bathing gear.  I was thrilled to see the room as pristine as I'd first seen it.  Apparently, this wasn't the first time one of the toilets flooded because it was fine after the clean-up -- no plumber required.  I made sure to be very careful with that sucker for the rest of the trip.  Thank goodness there were no more mishaps.

Like I said earlier, Kahulu'u is a nice small gray beach.  The weather the whole trip (except in the south) was in the high 70's/low 80's and the sun wasn't too strong.  Barely using sunscreen or my hat, I got tanned but didn't burn.  I did get prickly heat, though, as I do any time I spend most of the day in the sun.  It was nice to lay out and not do nothin'.

That was preferable to getting in the water.  Hawaii is known for its killer surf but being that this area is reasonably protected from the winds, the water was relatively calm once you got past the rocks.  About those rocks ... I saw a bunch of snorkelers who were just fine floating off the coast about 100 yards out.  But in order to get there, you have to navigate the incredibly rocky shoreline.  The water was warm enough once I got used to it, but I simply could not deal with the rocks.  I felt like if I put one foot in the wrong place, a stronger wave would have me tripping back and breaking my ankle.  I really didn't relish that thought, and since I had no interest in snorkeling, there was very little ocean time for me.

Slightly bummed, I went back to the hotel for a shower and some tablet time (damn that thing!).  I actually felt guilty for a while for not doing more outside activities until I remembered that a vacation means a time for rest.  If I wanted to just hang out on the lanai and listen to the birds while I fed my tech habit, there was nothing wrong with that.  I always require a certain amount of quiet time and being away from home doesn't change that.

Dinner was at a place called Humpy's, a beer pub across the street from the ocean.  I had a burger and a killer view of the sunset before calling it a night.

   

Big Island Day 3 -- 4/11/17

     There's this great place called The Fish Hopper on Ali'i Drive with an excellent view of the water.  It was there that I had a Loco Moco, an Hawaiian breakfast I'd had in Maui years earlier..  Still a yummy, fattening mix of fried rice, scrambled egg, and a hamburger patty smothered in gravy.  All served with Kona coffee, of course.

     I need to note that there were a couple of women sitting at a table near me.  One woman was complaining to someone about how high her long distance bill was going to be.  On her cell phone.  In Hawaii.  Yeah, it's a real mystery how her bill could have been so high.  And she actually took another call while on the phone with the first person!  As much as this trip was making me have serious smartphone envy, at least I wasn't with someone who paid more attention to her phone than me.  And I certainly wasn't facing a $400 phone bill coming back from vacation.
     Properly fortified, it was time to tackle the daunting drive down to the Volcano.  Did I mention that the Big Island is big?  The road to Hawaii Volcano Park was long, curvy, and fronted by ever-changing scenery.  Most of that scenery was pretty bleak.  Piles of volcanic rocks would give way to fields of brush, sprinkled with the occasion small town or farm.  This was better than travelling Saddle Road as there were places to stop, plenty of gas, and ample evidence of human life but it was still kind of depressing.  It kept getting darker and darker the further south I went with occasional bouts of rain.  I didn't think much of it at the time; it is still Hawaii and it's the rain that keeps everything lush.  But Gigi informed me on my last day that a lot of battles were fought on the southern part of the island and that bad mojo still clung to the place.  I totally believe her as I got more drained and tired as the trip when on.

     Just before reaching the park, I took a detour to Punalu'u, one of the island's black sand beaches.  The area was absolutely gorgeous and the almost Gothic feel of the place kinda added to the bad mojo theory.  I finally got to see a a turtle, just lying there on the beach like it was posing for photos.  Or dead.  I'm still not entirely sure the thing wasn't dead.  It didn't move once while I was there.

     As pretty as the beach was, it didn't really invite visitors to stay long.  Sure, there were bathrooms, plenty of parking, and a few concessions stands, but the off and on drizzle continued under the overcast skies and it was chillier here than in Kona.  There were people sitting on the beach in windbreakers instead of swimsuits.  I took my pictures and walked for a bit to stretch my legs before jumping on the final leg to the Volcano.

     The $20 fee to enter the park was good for 7 days of revisits.  That's great but I already knew that I would not be getting on that road ever again.  With Saddle Road and now H11 a bust, I knew I'd have to make arrangements to fly out of Kona instead of Hilo.  Sure, there was always the option to take H11 north to Hilo as it circled the entire island.  But I'd only been on the island a couple of days and had already had my fill of driving.  Flying out of Kona was the only option and I'd just have to eat the cost for my poor planning.
     Once in the park, I went to the Visitor's Center.  It had a theater showing lava flicks, a gift shop, and a bunch of displays of the park's wildlife and history.  I was just in time to join a tour group led by chipper man named Dean who looked like Steve Martin.  He took about 40 of us on a 45 minute walking tour to the summit of one of the volcanoes, I can't remember which.  He pointed out various plants and had a handy set of laminated pictures to go with his lecture (See?  Lots of rain here -- it was drizzling in bursts during the tour.)  He was a white guy but explained that he had moved to the islands about 10 years ago and had been adopted by the Hawaiians.  He was very enthusiastic about everything he discussed, warning us beforehand to stop him if he got too carried away talking about a fern.  I do admire passion even if I don't share it.

     He led us past the red Volcano House, a hotel/slash restaurant that was very convenient for anyone wanting to do some serious hiking in the park, and along what used to be a road until the volcano made it unfit for cars.  From there we could look over a rail and see the volcano itself.  No lava, as even the rangers can't predict when and where the lava will flow, but we could see the steam vents and the vegetation growing out of the rock.  Dean ended the tour with a prayer in Hawaiian, a story, and a song using a nose flute.  It was a nice, reverent end to the tour.

     Back to the car, I went up the short road to the museum. I opted not to do any of the longer car tours as it was still gray and raining and I did not want to be on H11 after dark.  The building was much like the visitor's center with gift shop and displays as well as a view of another volcano.  I could actually see tiny bursts of red shooting out of the fissure -- when I could see anything through the crowd of people.  With everyone gathered around the railing straining to see lava, I could barely slip my camera in between them to take some shots.  I could see lava but the camera angle was off so ... I'd say better luck next time, but I highly doubt I'll be visiting this park again.

     Since the crowds were working my nerves, I set off on the long, long trip home.  I got back to Kona around 5 pm and as much as I wanted a shower (I had brought a long pair of pants and a jacket to wear over my shorts and t-shirt and now everything was damp and clingy), there was no way I was going back out for dinner if I went directly to the hotel.  I needed a cosmo and some fried shrimp and went looking for the first place in Kona that would oblige.  Bubba Gump fit the bill and its location right on the water allowed me to stare at the sunset while getting my drink on.

     When I pulled up to the hotel, Gigi was standing outside talking to one of the other guests sitting on her balcony.  She took one look at me and said she could tell where I'd been just by how I was unpacking my car.  "Let me guess:  volcano?"  "Volcano, " I nodded.  "You're a smart woman."  She said she could always tell when guests had headed south because there was this drained look on their faces.  People who'd traveled north tended to look more relaxed.  She'd been to the volcano twice herself and knew how brutal the ride could be.  She advised I make the next day a rest day to recover.  The only thing I wanted to do was sit on the lanai and eat my pineapple in peace.

Big Island Day 2 -- 4/10/17

     Okay.  That was exhausting.
     Getting to the islands is normally a pain but wow.  Adding a 2 hour drive on a bad road at night, the 6 hour time difference (Hawaii doesn't recognize Daylight Savings), and of course, sleeping in a strange bed for the first time and its miracle my body wasn't more confused upon waking on my first full day on the Big Island.  But I was up at six and listening to the birds outside my balcony.
     Excuse me -- lanai.  And a pretty nice one at that.

     After lingering in bed for a while, I got dressed and met up with Gigi downstairs.  She gave me the lowdown of the place, showing me the recycling bins, the best parking (still tricky though -- more on that later), and the outdoor kitchen in case I wanted to cook my own meals.  The whole place was really nicely set up.  I had a microwave and mini fridge in my room along with beach towels (wish I'd known that earlier so I wouldn't have packed my own), a guidebook (the one I really wanted) and a map of the island.   Downstairs were paperback novels and bins full of swim shoes, snorkels, sunscreen, mats -- you name it, Gigi had the hookup.  There were even coolers and surfboards so you wouldn't have to rent them.  Just take them out when you needed them and return them when you got back.  Nice.
     It's amazing what you don't notice when you're dog-tired and driving down an unfamiliar road at night.  Once I walked down the rutty driveway that served as a road, I realized the hotel was directly across the street from Kahalu'u Bay, a salt and pepper-sanded beach that was considered one of the best for snorkeling on the island.  It also had a lot more black volcanic rocks than sand, something very common on the the Big Island.  Volcanoes are the big draw here not the beaches.

     I walked a bit up the road and noticed the many communities on Ali'i Drive but found that the nearby grocery store was a little far to reach on foot.  So it was back to the hotel for the car.  While there were parking spaces around the building, backing out of any of them was no picnic.  And you definitely didn't want to go backwards down that narrow winding road.  I managed to not hit anyone during the trip (can't say the same about some of the greenery) but became an expert of the 12-point turn.   The rental was about the same size as my car but it was still new to me and more difficult to handle.
     Ali'i Dr is a historic Hawaiian site and is the main drag in Kailua-Kona.  Once you get past all the houses, the speed limit drops and there are a bunch of restaurants and shops that stay hopping from morning to night.  A lot of the businesses are either on the water or have a great view of them.  After breakfast and some shopping, I drove around a bit to get the lay of the land.  I kept seeing signs saying 'Volcano 93 miles'.  I knew I wanted to go but ... that distance!  Maybe tomorrow.
     I laid out on the beach for a while, watching the students of the nearby surf school try to catch some non-existent waves and planning my activities for the next few days. Just a day to recover before seeing the sites.

Big Island Day 1 -- 4/9/17

     I have this weird thing going on.  My trips to  Hawaii seem to happen in 5 year intervals.  My first trip was in 2007 to Oahu, Maui followed in 2012, and now it's the Big Island's turn.  I have absolutely no problem with this pattern as I do so love Hawaii.
     This issue with this trip came with the planning.  I've never been a planner and don't anticipate much about trips as reality never lives up to the fantasy.  But even I'll admit that this one could have been better executed.
     For one thing, I didn't buy my guidebook until the day before the trip.  My last two books for Hawaii were written by the same dude, a local with a very laid back style who's done everything and seen everything twice.  Because I didn't order the book from Amazon like I'd planned, I ended up with a Fodor's guide that I barely consulted.  If I had, I might have done a better job at booking this trip.
     Traveler's Tip #1:  If you're going to stay on the west coast of the Big Island, make sure you fly into Kona Airport.  Hilo Airport is only for people staying to the south or on the east coast.
     Guess which airport I flew into?  Yep, I was scheduled to fly into Hilo despite my hotel being in Kailua-Kona on the west coast.  I didn't realize my mistake until a couple of days before leaving when I tried to map out the hotel.  I thought Mapquest had made a mistake.  Or maybe I'd put in the wrong address.  It just couldn't be a 2 1/2 drive to get to the hotel from the airport.  Had to be a mistake.  Right?
     I'm an idiot.
     Once I figured out this crucial info, I tried to change the flight but decided it would cost to much money.  I had already reserved a car and I figured that it's an island -- how bad could it be?
     And a cheap idiot at that.
     Travelling to Hawaii is already a pain in the butt and by far the worst part of any vacation there.  I joke that I only go out to the islands every five years because it takes me that long to forget the plane rides.  And while, yes, I will be returning (Kauai next time), I'll definitely need the full five years to forget this ordeal.
     The flights themselves weren't so bad this trip.  A 5 hour flight to LAX, a 6 hour flight to Honolulu, and then a 45 minute flight to Hilo.  Still not enough leg room but I was pleased to find that Delta now has Wi-Fi and USB connections on their longer flights.  As I've been addicted to my tablet for the last few years, this was a great option to have.  I had a brief bout of pressure sickness on the LAX-Honolulu leg but I wasn't exactly surprised (this is the third time I've gotten sick while flying over the west coast -- what's up with that).  There was also a baby sitting in front of me but she only fussed once during the flight.  The rest of the time she was just looking around at everyone and being adorable.  Just how I like babies:  cute and quiet.
     Flight got into Hilo at 8:00 just as the sun went down.  Now for the real fun.  I picked up my white Chevy Cruze from Avis and set out for the hotel.  Already tired from the flights, I got turned around before finally asking for directions to Saddle Road.   It cuts right through the middle of the island from east to west coast and at the time seemed like the logical, shorter route to my destination.


     Ye gods, I'm an idiot.
     Traveler's Tip #2:  When travelling to the Big Island, STAY OFF SADDLE ROAD.
     For those of you not in the know, Saddle Road is rather infamous on the Big Island.  It passes between two of the islands big volcanoes, Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea and for the longest time was known to be a complete mess.  Pock-marked and barely paved, only locals who knew the road and had 4WD would even dare to get on it.  I can tell you that it is not as bad as it used to be.   But it's still bad.
     The road passes by a lot of residences at first, making it slow going out of Hilo.  I initially thought this was the reason it would take so long but ... no.  The speed limit changes frequently throughout the trip, from 25 mph up to 60 mph in some parts depending on the curves.  Sometimes  there are two lanes, sometimes four.  There are obvious signs of improvement as there are construction vehicles everywhere, particularly in one area.  Y'know, the roughly two miles somewhere in the middle where the pavement stops completely?  Yeah.
     Here I am, tired and punchy in a strange car on a strange road at night only to find there is no road anymore and nowhere to turn off or turn around in case I don't want to try this.  The road was down to two lanes barely separated by some orange barrels at a speed limit of 20 mph.  And some guy actually passed me on this part because apparently I wasn't going fast enough on the unpaved road.  At night.  And did I mention that it had started to drizzle?
     I finally made it through that part and back to the pavement.  Soon after the speed limit went back up to 60 mph and I took full advantage of that.  The road is incredibly dark and lonely with few road signs, turnoffs or signs of life.  I was ready to wet myself with joy when, about 20 years later, I spotted some lights off in the distance.  I got past the part where the road was down to one lane (I have no idea how traffic progressed in the other direction -- it's not like there were flagmen on the road at this time of night.) and started to see road signs.  But my directions only got me so far.  Turns out that the Kahalu'u Road my hotel was on wasn't listed on Mapquest or Google Maps.  I passed by the 'road' twice before I spotted it.  The reason 'road' is in quotes is because, despite having a green road sign, it's more of a half-paved, rutty driveway to multiple residences than an actual road.  As I drove past these homes and up a hill, I kept thinking I'd made another mistake but no.  I saw a sign for Big Island Retreat to the right and pulled in.
     I was so relieved to be out of the car, I could barely walk.  It was 11 pm by this time and I was grateful that I'd made it before the 12 midnight cut-off for check-in.  But this bed and breakfast (without the breakfast) was locked up tight.  I didn't realize at the time that the doorbell was on the side entrance so I went to the front.  I was met shortly by a tiny woman named Gigi who ran the place.  She helped me with my bags as I explained my lateness.  She took me to the Pineapple Room, a lovely spot towards the front of the house with its own screened-in lanai and set me up with her phone number and Wi-Fi.  She expressed some surprise at the sight of my dinosaur of a flip phone ("Even my mom has a better phone than that!" -- Thanks, lady) but I told her about my tablet which is Wi-Fi enabled.  She then left me to it, knowing that I was too tired to do anything but take a shower and go to bed.   Which is exactly what I did.

Aruba -- The Messy End

     Thursday, 4/16/15.

     I woke up pretty early, per usual, on this my last day in Aruba and my inner debate raged on. I really wanted to take one last swim before leaving but knew that I didn't want to carry a wet swimsuit and towel on the plane. As I was packing up the rest of my stuff and checking over the room, I found the bill had been slipped under the door. Yes, it was outrageous but it also said that checkout was at noon instead of 11 which would give me plenty of time to swim, eat, checkout, and be in the lobby by 1:15. Cool.

     It was almost like I had the entire ocean to myself. The boats were still anchored just past the cordoned off  area and there were a few early risers sitting out on the beach but there was absolutely no on in the water as far as I could see. The sun hadn't quite risen yet and it was overcast meaning no risk of burning my forehead again.

     One last trip to the buffet then I gathered my stuff and checked out. I waited in the lobby until the shuttle arrived then it was off to the airport. Customs was different than I remember from my trip to the Bahamas ten years ago. You go through Aruba customs first, drop off any checked bags, then pick the bags back up and go through American customs. American customs was automated making the forms we were given when we landed in Aruba completely useless. Well, at least I wouldn't have to bother with customs once I landed.  The only issue I had was that I couldn't get a window seat on the flight to Atlanta.  Oh well, I figured it was only a two hour flight so I'd have to rough it on the aisle.  No big deal.

     The flight from Aruba went off without a hitch.  I at least had my window seat on this flight and there was one other guy in the 3 seat row who took the aisle.  Awesome.  We even landed in Miami a 1/2 hour early, giving me enough time to grab some dinner ...

     ... And even more time besides.  My flight was supposed to leave at 9 yet it was close to 8:45 before I noticed that boarding hadn't started yet.  It was only by looking at the gate sign did I learn that the flight was delayed until 10:40 p.m.  Fun.

     I sat for a while until I couldn't stand  being around the family of hyper kids who were all making too much noise.  I wandered around the airport for awhile but got tired of lugging my bag around.  I'd bought a new collapsible bag for travel spillovers and while it did hold a ton, the soft body and long shape made it incredibly unwieldy.  I was more than ready to get the night over with.

     No luck there.  The flight was again delayed until 12:30.

     Again there were no announcements about these changes.  I saw people going to the counter to ask but that shouldn't have been necessary as we were all wondering what was up.  The kids had finally dropped off to sleep but everyone else was just restless and getting crankier by the minute.  Count me among the cranky.  I was tired and more than a little pissed that my vacation would have as bad of an ending as it had a beginning.

     And every time I opened that bag I got hit in the face with the smell of the leftover Cuban sandwich I'd had for dinner. Not a bad smell but I didn't really want it permeating everything in my bag.

     I had just started to nod off when I sensed movement around me. Okay, I guess we’re boarding even though once again there was no announcement.  At around 12:15 a.m,, we all silently filed onto the over-cooled plane. The captain came on and finally gave us an explanation for the delay. Apparently there was some bad weather in Houston and the crew who was supposed to be on our flight got stuck out there. This crew was trying to go to Houston and had to turn around because of the storm. So they were just getting caught up with the doings on this plane. Including the fact that the ground crew hadn't loaded the luggage yet. The plane had only been sitting there for FIVE hours. What the flying flip were they waiting for?

     Fifteen minutes after everyone had been seated, the ground crew was still doing their check and loading the luggage. Then the AC shut off. The cabin quickly got overheated and the smell of jet fuel filled the air. I went from really wanting to board this flight to really wanting to leave because the combo of the heat and the smell was starting to make me sick. For the second time during this vacation I felt like a trapped animal – really not the experience I was going for. The captain came on again saying he would just have to spend the whole trip apologizing to us. The plane was working on auxiliary AC that was spotty at best so he was going to route some air in from the ground. A few minutes later the cabin cooled down. The flight attendants started to pass out headphones as this evening’s morning’s entertainment would be comped to make up for all the issues. Too little too late as most folks just wanted to sleep.

     We finally got off the ground at 1:00 am – four hours after we should have taken off. There was turbulence but I really don’t think anyone cared. As long as we didn't fall out of the sky … whatever. I tried to get some sleep but with the woman next to me loudly snoring and anyone passing me on the aisle making me dodge so they wouldn't hit me, it just wasn't happening.

     We landed in ATL at 3:00 on a cold and rainy morning. MARTA had stopped running at least an hour earlier so I spent the flight trying to figure out what to do. I grabbed my bag and headed outside listening to the PA system telling me that the airport doesn't condone passengers soliciting unofficial transportation. Well, they shouldn't have stranded me in Miami then. MARTA was my only way back, I’m 20 miles from my car and another 25 miles from there to my house; what else am I supposed to do?

     Divine providence smiled on me for the second time this trip. A yellow checked cab pulled up and let this lady out (making me wonder where she was going at 3 in the morning). I ran up and asked the dude if he was busy. He said no, get in. I asked him if he took plastic as I had no money (in the 20 years I've lived in ATL I've taken a cab maybe twice so I had no idea how they worked). He said don’t worry about it, I’ll help you out. Get in. 

     Hallelujah!

     The reason he was so insistent about me getting in the car is that, like the announcement said, Hartsfield doesn't approve of cabs trolling the airport for fares. They could take his license if they caught him -- which is nuts in my opinion. He wasn't soliciting; he was just there at 3 in the morning when I had no other options. I went up to him so my hope is that he didn't get into trouble. We had a nice chat about both of our situations while he was driving and I kept an eye on that meter. I honestly think that if you even breathe in a cab it costs money.

     We pulled up in front of the job and he took my card for the $55 trip. I included a generous tip and he seemed surprised when he thanked me. “Dude. It’s 3 in the morning.” He helped me with my gear and I hoofed it through the parking garage to my car. I made record time getting home with no one on the streets. Plane got in at 3 and I was pulling into my garage at 4:30. If only all my commutes could be that fast.

     House is still standing, cat is still alive. Score. The house was freezing though. I had just turned on the AC for the season before I left only to come back to a house that was 64 degrees. Crawled into bed and despite being tired I was too wound up to get much sleep. Well, at least I had Friday off.

     I got up and took the car to the shop as planned. There was a recall on the airbags so no charge but the mechanic would have to keep it all day. The good thing about that is that Honda pays for a rental. A really big rental in the form of this huge white Ford F-something truck. I’m standing at the rental counter, punchy, tired, and with my mouth wide open as the attendant drives this behemoth into the bay. “This thing won’t even fit in my garage.” “Oh don’t worry you can just park it outside.” Brilliant.

     The truck was cool, though. It had satellite radio, a back seat, and this funky plastic key attached to a remote. But something was missing. How do I shift this thing? Turns out the gear shift is on the dashboard and looked just like a big knob for the radio. It only had park, drive, reverse, and neutral and it just took a few turns to get it moving. I had never seen anything like that before. I had to be careful driving it though, being tired and all.  Not to mention the fact that it was brand new (which encourages a lead foot), it was the length of a bus, and I could have easily run over one of those little European half-cars and wouldn't even have noticed. I’m not trying to catch a case just after my vacation.

     Sure enough, the Canyonero didn't fit in the garage (too long) so I managed to back into my neighbor’s garbage can before parking it in front of the house. Still too wired to sleep I puttered about the house until Honda called. They had checked the car while they worked on the airbags and discovered three issues with it; two that cost about a $100 apiece to fix and one that would cost close to $1000 … but we could hold off on that last one. Thank Odin. Sighing at yet another unexpected expense I told him to go ahead with the two smaller repairs.

     So to sum up; Aruba was beautiful and the Marriott was very nice but the whole vacation ended up costing 3 times more than I planned. The two hotels, the unexpected cab ride, the car I wasted $90 to rent, the $60 for the pet sitter (I swear it wasn't that expensive last time – and the sitter's bill had a note saying that tips are welcome!?!?), the repairs on the car … and I still have to buy a new mattress and a new pair of glasses. Despite hosing myself down with sunscreen, I still burned and I also have a very itchy heat rash on my arms and chest. Instead of feeling rested and having an island/vacation buzz, I just feel some kind of way. I won’t say the trip wasn't worth it because I did very much enjoy being on the beach (which was the point) but next time I’ll just go back to Hawaii. You get more for your buck and I truly love it there. 

     As for Aruba … ehhh.

Aruba -- The Sunny Middle

     Beach time!

     One of the reasons I decided not to post this blog day by day as I have in the past is because I didn't actually do much more than sit on my butt and swim in the ocean. As was my plan. I was in the water every day but Tuesday and loved every minute of it.  The area of ocean directly behind the hotel is cordoned off for swimmers and goes to a depth of about 5 feet. The water's calm though the weather was always windy.  The temp stayed at a balmy 85 degrees everyday and only rained for about a minute on one day.  Regardless of how the rest of the vacation went, this part could not be beat.

     Overpriced or not, the Marriott Stellaris is quite lovely. It’s a big high-rise hotel with eight floors (I was on the 6th so I had a nice sideways view of the beach), several shops, a Ruth Chris Steakhouse, some high end jewelry stores, and a nice medium priced restaurant. There’s a hot tub, a pool with a swim up bar, plenty of cabanas on the beach, and access to numerous water sports. I ate most meals at La Frite, the mid-priced restaurant that put on a very nice breakfast buffet. And since they offered me drinks upon coming to my table in the evenings, I did partake in some lovely tropical adult beverages. The bartender makes a mean Cosmo.

     Monday, 4/13/15, was my 44^th birthday. Wow. I don’t feel middle-aged. It’s not like I feel like a teenager or anything but certainly not middle-aged. Regardless of how I feel, my skin is definitely aging. I never got sunburned as a child – tans, sure, but no burns. Then I got horribly burned in San Juan a couple of years ago. With that experience still fresh in my mind, I brought plenty of sunscreen for this trip and made sure to reapply often. Didn't help; nor did my unexpected trek through the Aruban barrio on Sunday. Still burned the crap out of my forehead and nose and spent the next few days peeling. Huge strips of skin sloughing off, leaving distinctly paler skin behind … you know that’s just gross. I hate the peeling. This time wasn't as bad as San Juan but still yuck.

     I rented a car for the day on Tuesday only to realize that I needn't have bothered. I mainly wanted the car to go to the Hard Rock for a t-shirt but found that I could have just walked along the shore to get there.  The Hard Rock was part of a strip of stores and restaurants that led to a separate mall. Downtown Oranjestad is mostly high end stores that didn't interest me and further south of that was just more neighborhoods. Though the map the rental lady gave me showed points of interest around the island, I really didn't care. I meant what I said at the beginning of this trip. I didn't want to do much of anything except chill on the beach so I mainly just drove around aimlessly. At the very least the driving gave my skin a rest and I did manage to find that rarest of beasts; a hat that would fit my ginomous noggin. I wore the wide-brimmed straw hat for the rest of the vacation and that sucker really did its job. I didn't burn again for the rest of the trip and the hat managed to stay on my head despite the heavy winds.

     I did a lot of walking along the beach. Going to the left after exiting the hotel led to a bunch of other hotels including one called the RIU that actually had two buildings, one that looked like a castle and one that was an adults only hotel. Great idea but considering how expensive my hotel was I don’t even want to imagine how much that one cost. There were numerous piers that housed boats, restaurants, and stores. There were also stands for water sports including two I had never heard of before; surf-biking and fly-boarding. Yeah, surf-biking is exactly what it sounds like; a bike mounted on a surf board. I saw a couple of kids who seemed to be naturals at it but when one father tried to do it he couldn't even stay on the board. The fly-boarding was interesting. You have two people on a jet ski with a hose attached to the back. Boots attached to the hose hold a third person in place and allows them to ‘fly’ using the expelled water from the jet ski. It looked really cool when it worked though I couldn't help but think that people will come up with the strangest things to do on the water. I would have just been happy riding on the jet ski.

     Going to the right on the beach took me past the Ritz-Carlton, a big yellow hotel, and to some rough wooden shacks on bare beach. Locals were offering lessons on windsurfing and kite-surfing. The folks soaring over the water using the brightly colored kites just fascinated me. I went to this part of the beach everyday just to watch them. The students came by in the morning and spent most of their time just trying to stay on their boards and out of the water. I was rooting for this one chick who was having some trouble holding onto the kite while keeping her board beneath her. The instructor kept shouting instructions at her while she unfortunately face-planted. Twice. That can’t have felt good. 

      In the evening the pros came out and they were amazing. They made it look easy as they followed the breeze, coming in close to the shore only to catch some wicked air as they turned around and went back out to sea. Since I knew I’d be a face-planting fool, I didn't even think about trying. It would take several hours on the water to become even remotely proficient and I knew I didn't have the time or the patience. Maybe some other time. When I’m older and even less spry. Yeah. Good plan.

Aruba 2015 -- The Rough Start

   

     I haven't taken a vacation in two years.

     That's just wrong somehow.

     I have to keep reminding myself that I bought a new laptop last year which is where all my vacation money went. But still … no beach time and no plane ride makes Daphne an extremely antsy woman. Plus I'd gotten a new passport two years ago that still didn't have any stamps in it. Wrong, I tells ya! A nice trip to Aruba would take care of all of those needs.

     I'd had a few stressful weeks with horrendous traffic and odd weather so I was more than ready for my yearly personal spring break. I booked this trip with the express purpose of just lying on the beach and not doing nuthin'; no tours, no activities, no rental car. I didn't even want to jet ski or get on a boat, two things I really love. I didn't want to have a schedule to stick to or things to keep track of. I bought no guide book and did very little research on the place. As long as it had a beach and a clean place to stay, I was good.

     Some issues beforehand. I was a little worried about my head exploding on the plane. I was just getting over a sinus infection that had both my ears stopped up so I had no idea what the air pressure of a plane would do to me. Secondly, I had flaked on getting back to the pet sitter about looking after my cat, Beata. I'd contacted her by email and she'd responded by phone – to a person who rarely checks messages and never answers a ringing phone. As it got closer and closer to my Saturday, 4/11/15 departure, I kept thinking that the service would never get back to me and Beata would just have to rough it for the six days I'd be away. Fortunately the sitter was able to come on Friday to get the key and instructions. One less worry on my mind.

     Got up early on Saturday morning so I could catch the first train out of MARTA. Parked the car at the job (I do love being able to do that) and went to the station. An hour later I was at the airport which was way too crowded to be so early. It didn't help that I got in the wrong line and had to be rerouted since American was partnered with US Airways for the flight and I had to check in with them. The lines did move relatively quickly and I was able to grab a small meal before the flight.

     I went to Charlotte first which still baffles me, having to go north before I go south. I understand if Atlanta doesn't to do flights directly to the islands but it still seems stupid to have so few flights that even go through Miami to the islands. No, I have to go north. Whatever. Caught the next flight, waved to ATL when I passed over it (?!) and I was onto Aruba.

     I landed in Oranjestad airport and hey! My head didn't explode! I quickly found the shuttle I'd chartered and climbed aboard. I think the bus went to every hotel on the island, both the smaller hotels a bit inland and the big hotels along the shore. The sense of unease I'd had before the trip resurfaced as I watched every person on the bus get dropped off leaving only little ole me behind. I went to talk to the driver who had no idea where my hotel was. He had to get in touch with dispatch who in turn had to contact the hotel itself to get directions. Great.

     We finally got moving again, going further and further away from the beaches that I wanted. There are a lot of circles on Aruba streets reminding me of Europe until I learned that Aruba was originally a Dutch settlement. We went deep into the residential neighborhoods (making me wonder where the hell the guy was taking me) stopping eventually at a Wendy's. The hotel proprietor was waiting there to take me down the narrow street to the hotel since the bus couldn't make it there. Everyone else got dropped off at nice, established places while cheap me was piling into a strange lady's beat up old car to go to my hotel. I think I should have done some more research on this place than none.

     The apartment I rented was indeed settled around the pretty courtyard that was pictured online. It was also hot and tiny. I hated it on sight. The woman was very nice in showing me the amenities like the WIFI codes and the free soda, pack of crackers, and bag of Fritos that served for complimentary snacks. There was no phone but she'd be happy to make any calls for me which included calling for a rental car since there was no other food in the place and no grocery store nearby that I could see. Trying not to freak out, I nodded when she showed me her place next door (just ring if you need anything) and left me to my situation.

     I was racking my brain trying to remember the description of this place. There are certain things I assume when I see a hotel advertised online. I assume there will be a phone. On an island vacation, I assume that the place will be somewhere near the water – doesn't have to be on it but at least nearby. My hotel in Oahu wasn't on the water but it was a short two blocks away from Waikiki Beach. The apartment I rented in Myrtle Beach wasn't on the water either but I drove my own car there so I didn't worry about it. That place was also fully stocked with cookware, plates, and a full-size fridge. This was just … bad. No cookware, a mini-fridge, and, other than the Wendy's, no place nearby to buy food. And did I mention hot? There was an AC unit on the wall but I couldn't figure out how to work it. So much for making assumptions.

     Since I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, I decided to walk to Wendy's. The apartments were located behind a closed gate and while I had the code, it took me several attempts to get it open. Feeling like a trapped animal, I finally realized that you have to input the code and then turn the knob underneath the keypad before the door would open. Already frustrated and pissed, I really didn't need any additional challenges. I also didn't need the dog barking at me from the gated house next door.

     There were few lights along the street (more like a back alley) so I made sure to note where everything was. I got to the rather nice restaurant and ordered my food. When I gave the woman a twenty, she asked me if I wanted American change or florin. I didn't even know what she was talking about so I said American. Yet another tidbit learned, Aruba has its own money. I'd already figured out that it was mostly Spanish speaking but I also found out that there is another language spoken there called Papiamento which I'd never even heard of (turns out it's a mix of Dutch, English, Spanish, French and Portuguese).

     I ate my food and figured out my next move since there was no way I was spending my short trip in that place. I resigned myself to stay the night and call around on Sunday to see if there was an available room and if the hotel could send someone to get me. Back at the hotel room, I turned on the TV and figured out that the second remote was for the AC. Okay. I got it to work, figuratively speaking – it worked great as long as you were standing right in front of it. The bed was located a whole six feet away. Sigh. I spent the night trying to sleep while dogs barked outside my window and Spanish music drifted in. I was stifling as the room never did cool down and my legs kept trying to Charley horse on me for no apparent reason.

     I just wanted to lie on the beach. Was that too much to ask?

     I woke up early (hey! I did manage to sleep!), showered and immediately started to look up other hotels on my tablet. The WIFI worked but was spotty; every time I tried to book a hotel the connection kept dropping. I made a few attempts to use my cell but could not make a call. Then I left the room on the hunt for something, a phone, a cab, anything. It was early on a Sunday and nothing was open except for a gas station which, of course, had no phone. Great. Even though I walked for a while in both directions I couldn't see the water or much of anything but houses and small closed businesses. Oh, and roving dogs and chickens everywhere.

     I paced around in the room for a while before going out to ring the proprietor’s doorbell. No answer from her and since there was nothing else to do but watch TV, I said screw it. Turned off the lights and the AC, left the key on the table, gathered my stuff, and got on the good foot. I pointed myself towards the water and began looking for the first cab, hotel, or phone I could find.

     I got about a mile up the road when a red car pulled over just ahead of me. The passenger, a young woman with braces wearing a bright orange shirt, poked her head out and asked if I needed a ride. Are you kidding? “Can you take me to the Marriott?” “Sure.” Divine Providence! It turns out that the passenger worked at the Radisson which was just a few hotels down the beach from the Marriott. We chatted while I noticed that I had been miles away from just about everything. Sure, there had been some businesses along the road while I walked but I didn't bother to check them for a phone since it was so early in the morning.

     There are actually three Marriott hotels on the island. The one I'd looked up online was the Renaissance but I didn't see that one from the road so I chose the Stellaris. We pulled up in front of the hotel and I couldn't thank the ladies enough. I offered them some money for their kindness and both of them said no, no, you keep that and have a blessed day. Already done. Those ladies, whose names I didn't even get, truly made my vacation. I will be forever grateful to them.

     I think the Stellaris Hotel and Casino was the more expensive Marriott on the island. They had a room available but it would cost a hundred dollars more a night than the already high-priced room I'd found online. Whatever. While I could have easily walked to one of the other hotels on that street, I was already too through with this. I could see the beach just outside the reception area and that's all I cared about. The room wasn't ready yet but the hotel allowed me to store my bags and gave me a voucher for the hotel's facilities until I got a room number. I grabbed breakfast at the lobby cafe and headed straight for the beach.

     Ate and walked around until the room was ready as promised at noon. The room, like the hotel, was lovely. Two king size beds, a big TV, and a really nice bathroom with two of those bowl sinks that sit on top of the counter. Very nice. And cool! As in the AC was already turned on when I got there. I changed into my suit and hit the water. One touch of that initially cold water reminded me why I came here in the first place. The water is indeed very turquoise though you can't see to the bottom. It took some time but I did get used to it. Then I didn't want to leave. This is definitely my happy place; just floating on the water listening to the surf and staring at the sky. Ahhhh. After all the crap I went through to get to this place, I was more than ready to relax. The only reason I left the water that first day was because I had to go to the bathroom and I was craving meat. Meat and french fries – highly unusual for me since I don't eat when I travel but I decided to go with it.

     The Marriott serves a mean burger as well as something else I really needed – a drink. The house specialty is the Aruba Arribi and it was very tasty. The meal also opened with this delicious bread served with vinegar and olive oil and I absolutely gorged myself on it. I was so stuffed I didn't do much more than head to the room and lay down. It may have only been around 6 pm but I was exhausted. So happy to be out of that last place and finally starting my vacation, I was quickly sleep.