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.

Puerto Rico Day 4 -- 4/19/13

You know, this trip didn’t seem so short when I booked it.  But already it’s time to go home.

I’d done most of the packing the night before so there wasn't much to do in the morning. I then went back to the trusty Caribe Café for breakfast (same as yesterday – why mess with a good thing).  Grabbed the gear, checked out, and went out front to wait for my ride …

Which seemed to take forever.  Five minutes after I was to be picked up a guy approached me and asked if I was waiting for Elegant Transportation.  I said yes though I didn’t see a van pull up from the company.  Turns out that the guy had arrived early and was looking for me inside.  He was helping out the company since the drivers were swamped.  His black SUV had been parked out front for at least ten minutes.  Oh.

The sun was shining brightly as we headed to the airport but even though I’d only been there two days I’d already had enough rays.  I noticed after my shower on Wednesday that the skin around my hairline was really tingly and irritated like it would be after I’d gotten a perm.  I kind of shrugged it off as no big deal.  But after Thursday’s shower I could actually feel the skin on my forehead getting all tight and leathery.  That had never happened to me before.  This wasn’t the first time I’d been to the beach and even though I don’t usually bother with sunscreen, I’ve never before had a problem.  Two days in Puerto Rico and I ended up burnt to a crisp. 

Going through the airport was fun.  I got in one line, realized I was in the wrong one, went to customs, got some stickers, then finally got in the first line for real.  Would have been nice if someone had told me about that from the start.  This whole trip just reminded me that I really need to learn Spanish.  I'd taken it in college but I'm nowhere close to proficient.  Fortunately most of the people I met in Puerto Rico spoke English.  Still, it's something I really need to get on since I'm sure this won't be my first trip to a Spanish speaking country. 

Speaking of which, yes, I would return to Puerto Rico.  There is still so much I didn't get a chance to see and the island is truly beautiful.  I just have to find a way to be better prepared for the aftermath.  Industrial strength sunscreen would help but it's more than just that.

Despite being well both before and during my trip, I brought my nice, cleaned-out lungs back to Atlanta and caught a double dose of pollen filled smog.  This led to two weeks (!) of hacking and coughing, scratching at my peeling skin, and suffering a heat rash on my arms to boot.

So the question becomes: Was two days of sun and fun worth all this?

                                                                                                           Yep.

Puerto Rico Day 3 -- 4/18/13

Second and last full day in Puerto Rico and I’m up early for the rainforest tour.  One of the lessons I learned from the Rome trip is to make sure the alarm clock actually works before relying on it to wake me up.  The alarm of the clock in the room didn’t work so I whipped out my travel clock (bought in Rome) and set up the alarm on my phone for backup (ended up not needing it).

The tour company advised me to bring a swimsuit in case I wanted to swim in the waterfall.  Wasn’t sure about all that but brought the suit along anyway along with my beach towel and headed out for breakfast.  The hotel café worked so well the first time, I headed there again choosing eggs, sausage and toast this time along with the angry coffee.  Damn good meal for about $8.  Then I set off to sit in front of the hotel to wait for my ride.

The tour company told me that my guide’s name was Sammie so I was really surprised to find Francisco coming up to me.  He would be leading the tour so he gathered me and two other chicks from the Conrad and we were off.  We picked up a man traveling with his elderly mother and his two teenage daughters from a hotel way on the other side of the island then drove the 30 or so minutes to the rainforest proper.

The trip made me very glad I didn’t rent a car.  We were right in the middle of rush hour, mercifully going in the opposite direction to the Atlanta-like traffic heading for the more industrial areas of the island.  Most of the folks on the tour were from Boston and commented that the traffic wasn’t too great there either.  I can’t imagine what it looks like now after the bombing incident on the 16^th.

The road up to the rainforest winds through a neighborhood (ooh look a horsey!) and up a really narrow road.  There are houses and the occasional restaurant or convenience store along the road making me think that the people who maintain the forest don’t live too far away. 

We stopped first at the visitor’s center for bathrooms and gift shop.  The center had displays spread around with picture of the plant and wildlife in the forest as well as a small movie theater showing a short film.  We spent about a ½ hour there before climbing back in the van to go further up the mountain.

 

From a small parking lot we set off on our hike.  Most of the hike was downhill which is great to start but I already know it will be a beast on the way back.  The weather was perfect though; not too hot and steamy and no rain.  We kept a good pace but made frequent stops both for Francisco to point out a particular sight and to let the man and his elderly mother catch up.  She may have been bringing up the rear while using a cane but to her credit she managed to navigate the sometimes rocky and uneven trail.

After maybe a 45 min. hike we reached the waterfall.  It was gorgeous of course but after seeing it I wasn’t sorry that I hadn’t bothered to change into my bathing suit at the visitor’s center.  Those rocks were hella slippery even if you didn’t approach the water.  Not really looking forward to twisting my ankle so far away from the van.

 

Francisco then offered to take folks to a series of smaller waterfalls.  To get there though required the group to strip down to their bathing suits, leave everything behind, and go under the bridge over even more slippery rocks.  Please note I said ‘their’.  There was no way I was taking this particular ‘trail’.  Even if it meant that it was only me and the elder waiting on the bridge.  It made for a nice rest period before the hike back up.

                                                  (Yes.  That's the actual 'trail' underneath the bridge.)

The place filled up quickly with folks coming from both sides of the trail.  I parked myself on a nice dry rock until the rest of the group returned maybe 20 minutes later. 

 

Then it was back up the trail.  As I’m huffing and puffing, I was again reminded of my difficulty with altitude.  I can hike all day when the trail is relatively level but as soon as there are stairs and steep climbs – yeeesh.  This is one of the many reasons why climbing Mt. Everest will never be on my life resume.  That and the cold.  Lots and lots of cold.

 

We piled back in the bus on the way to lunch making a brief stop at a lookout tower.  There were yet more stairs to climb if you wanted to get a good view from the top (pass), restrooms, and a small gift shop. Also of note were the warning signs posted around the area telling everyone to beware of rabid mongooses.  Oh.  Fun.  Fortunately, no one saw any.

 

We lunched at a restaurant called Anticito’s (I think) that was not far from the mountain.  Nice small buffet-style spread of real PR food that was very filling after the trip and reasonable to boot.  Just like the café at the hotel, there were some very bold birds who were more than eager to clean up our leftovers before we’d left them over as the seating area was windowless.  There were also these two owl figurines on the tables creeping us out because at various intervals the heads would spin around a full 360 degrees.  Okay.

We headed back to San Juan, dropping off the bulk of the group before returning to the Conrad.  The two chicks and I had the exact same idea of going to our rooms and changing into our suits for some beach time.  I had said during the tour that if I had any energy left that I would tour Old San Juan since everyone was recommending it.  Didn’t happen.  I was perfectly happy to grab my book and plop down into a deck chair which is exactly what I did until it got too windy.

A quick shower and a change, another visit to the souvenir shop, and I called it a night.

Puerto Rico Day 2 -- 4/17/13

Ahhh.  That’s better.  Glad to see that the rain wouldn’t last the entirety of my short vacation.

I bounded out of bed ready to explore.  First stop, the Caribe Café on the second floor.  The waiter was kind enough to talk me down from the pancake meal I wanted but never would have finished (3 pancakes the size of a large dinner plate).  Instead I order the side order of one pancake (still too big), some bacon, and some local coffee.  With milk.  Definitely with milk.  Puerto Rican coffee, I discovered, is just as dark and angry as Italian coffee.  I think I’ll pass on buying any to take home.

With a map I pilfered from the concierge desk, I thought I would set out to explore Old San Juan.  Yes I know Francisco said it’d be best to get a ride but I figured it was only a few miles.  Surely I could walk that?

You know, I probably could have.  If only I had walked in the right direction.

I took a left out of the hotel and started the journey, passing a bunch of hotels, restaurants and shops along the way.  Again there were cops everywhere lending to the very safe air of the area.  Oddly enough there were also a few homeless just hanging out in doorways or by bus stops.  I guess the cops figured that as long as they weren’t harassing anybody they would leave them alone.

I’m walking and I’m walking and I pass a couple of little park areas on my left with views of the ocean.   I didn’t stop at the first one because I was on a mission but the second one caught my eye.  Tired of the sidewalk already, I took a detour for a little beach time.

 

This is why I am will travel so many miles to get to the ocean; the simple pleasure of walking along the sand with my bare feet in the waves.  There is nothing like it on this earth.

 

I seemed to have picked a great time to travel to the island as the beach was not very crowded.  I followed the shore for a while before getting back on the sidewalk.  Another ten minutes of walking through a neighborhood (eek! Lizards!) and back onto a busy street and I realized that i was nowhere near Old San Juan.  There was nothing old about where I found myself, just the same things you'd find in any small city.  Instead of chiding myself for going the wrong direction, I just remembered that I never would have seen this part of the island if not for my mistake.

My dogs were starting to bark so I headed back in to the hotel.  I was out of water so i stopped at a vending machine not realizing it was out too.  But somehow someone had purchased a Gatorade and conveniently left it in the slot.  Not usually to my taste but I scooped it up along with my returned change.  I was refreshed by the drink and delighted to find a Texas quarter among the coins.  I've been collecting the special quarters with the state logos on the back for years and the only one I was missing was Texas.  Geeky, I know, but it made my day.

I stopped at a souvenir shop on the way back to the hotel then it was bathing suit and beach time for me.  The water was not as warm as I would have liked but it wasn't freezing either and I got used to it quickly.  The water off the little beach was shielded from the big waves by a line of rocks maybe fifty feet from the shore so it was nice to just get in a soak without fear of being knocked over.  The floorbed was really rocky but the water was clear enough to almost distinguish a rock from a shadow.  Almost.  Good thing I went back for the swim shoes otherwise my poor toes would have been in bad shape.

I lunched at the poolside diner on a nice PR inspired sandwich, fries, and a very strong fruity adult beverage that the waitress suggested.  I'm not much of a drinker but I do love to experiment with the tropical cocktails.  The birds, like in Maui, got a little bold while I lingered over my meal so i grabbed my gear and adjoined to one of the seaside chaises located a little distance away from the pools.  I was quite content to lay there reading my book; no schedules, no traffic, no rush to be anywhere other than where I was.  Nice.  It was only my rapidly drying-out skin that made me go up for a shower. 

The cafe where I had breakfast also sold Edy's ice cream.  I got a cup and my book and went right back to the chaise to soak up as much sun as I could.  It started to get really windy before it even got dark so I reluctantly left again and turned in for the evening.  

Puerto Rico Day 1 -- 4/16/13

Before this trip, I knew absolutely nothing about Puerto Rico except that it was down near the Bahamas somewhere.  I didn't know the language and I’d never had any urge to go there.

These are all good things.

I’ve often lamented the fact that I’m not more spontaneous when it comes to travel.  In each of the last few years I’ve been fortunate enough to take one big trip that gets planned out months in advance.  But what about all those weekends I spent at home staring at the cat?  What about the Christmas breaks and long summers that I always wanted to do something but just … didn’t?  Not this year.  With my car note finally paid off (yay!) I actually had a little more scratch to play with this year and I was bound and determined not to spent another week of vacation wishing I could do something.  I decided it was beach time.

Thanks to the suggestion of a co-worker (good looking out Chere!) I picked Puerto Rico for my next quick trip.  I found a cheap fair through one of the emails that Travelzoo sends me and before you know it I had a whole package deal with airfare, 3 nights in a hotel, transportation to and from the airport, and a rainforest tour all booked for around $900.

Saturday before the trip was my 42^nd birthday.  Didn’t do much on the day what with the trip planned.  I bought myself a couple of DVDs and a new travel tote, got some Chinese food (a rare treat), scored an oversized cupcake from Kroger, and basically chilled. 

Since I’m still saving as much money as I can for the big trip I have planned for Ireland in September, I decided to skip the house sitter for Beata.  I’d be out on Tuesday and back on Friday so for those few days she’d be fine.  Plenty of food and water and some clean litter and she’d barely miss me.

The one thing I do love about being in the new perimeter location for the job is that I can leave my car in the parking garage when I go on vacation.  So convenient.  I can walk to MARTA to catch the train all the way to the airport and I don’t have to pay for parking.  Sweet.  Now the commute is still ... What's a word that rhymes with "bell"?

So on the morning of Tuesday morning April 16 I set off for work like I do on any other weekday morning -- after some initial difficulty.  I had packed the weekend before but kept remembering things just as I was trying to get out of the house.  Had to turn around once before getting out of the neighborhood and then make a second trip upstairs once I got home.  I thought I was never getting out of there.  The trend only continued when I parked my car at the job.  I had locked up and was walking away when I remembered that the swim shoes I had run back to the house to get were still in the backseat.  Grrrrr …  This one short little trip was never gonna happen if I didn’t make it on the plane. 

Finally managed to catch the train for the roughly 45 minute trip to the airport.  As usual, I'd given myself a good 2 hours to get through security as I'd already printed my boarding pass at home.  This is Atlanta, the busiest airport in the world.  You never knew what it would look like from day to to day.  So I was totally shocked when I got through security in less than twenty minutes.  Apparently, they've laxed on some of the 9/11 restrictions making the whole thing go by much faster.  Cool.  I put my shoes back on and went to get something to eat.

Reminder to self:  always, if possible, choose the upgrade to the exit row.  Yes, it costs more money but the extra leg room is invaluable.  There was even an empty seat between my window and the aisle.  Double sweet.  Being that I was so comfortable, I actually slept for most of the short 3 hour flight.

First impression of Puerto Rico:  it’s much bigger than I thought and covered in high rises. I couldn’t wait to get out and explore but the sky was looking awfully gray as we started to land.  I'd made arrangements with a company called Elegant Transportation to pick me up and before I even had a change to flounder around the small airport I spotted a sign with my name on it.  The driver was a nice man named Franscico.  He led me through the airport to a van with another couple in it and we were off.

On the trip over, he gave us suggestions on tours and restaurants.  He's a bit of a foodie so he was telling us about the restaurants around our hotel, the Conrad San Juan Condado.  Old San Juan was located near the hotel but he advised transport there.  He recommended some authentic PR food in the area but was sure to downvote the Starbucks located right next to the hotel and the Denny's located in the adjoining building (more on that later).

The Conrad is a gorgeous hotel if a little worn down.  There’s a big fish tank in the lobby along with these funky chairs that look like they were crocheted.  There's a full wall of mosiac tiling behind the front desk that reminds me that I really need to get back into tiling, I've always enjoyed.  With card keys in hand, I headed to my room on the 7th floor.

The room was very nice.  I loved the color scheme and the bathroom … well the bathroom needs to be in my house quite frankly.  With a big glass shower in the middle of the room, a vanity on one side and a closet, safe, and fridge on the other, it was way more than I expected.

 

I got unpacked, changed into some shorts and set out to explore … only to find that it had started to rain and not a light tropical storm.  It was pouring.  Dang it.  I want to go outside!  Stubborn me decided to take my trusty umbrella for a short tour around the grounds.

Man, do I love palm trees.  They were all over the property, leaves swaying the breeze.  Some even had coconuts in them!  Nice to look at but I'd hate to be swinging in one of the hammocks strung between some of them if one of those bad boys decided to drop.  The grounds have two pools, a large kidney shaped on with a net, a slide, and a swim up bar, as well as a deeper sea water pool (6 ft deep).  There were cafe tables set up near the larger bar and a massage tent set up between the pools and a small beach and man is it raining.  I trudged my wet shoes back under the shelter of the hotel awning.

 

I ended up on the patio located on the side of the hotel facing the water.  I plopped myself down on a deck chair.  Despite the rain I was happy to be on the island, watching the palm trees and the waves.  After a while a guy from a nearby group of people wandered over and introduced himself as Brian.  He was waiting to leave and decided to talk to a friendly face since he joked of being tired of his companions.  He was a social worker from New York on the island for business.  We ended up talking for a while about ATL vs. NY airports (ATL scared him for being so huge), sports (he was a Mets fan and hoped I wasn’t a rabid Braves fan), and other stuff.  I asked him about any sights I should see while on the island and he said that he’d been there multiple times (monthly meetings over the last few years) and couldn’t really see anything but the job anymore.  Apparently, the PR government was setting up too much red tape in trying to help the homeless so the island visits just meant frustration for him.

After our conversation ended, it started to get a little too windy for me so I headed inside to explore the hotel. There’s a small club of sorts as well as a freestanding bar and a gift shop on the first level.  The Mezzanine level has a couple of restaurants, meeting rooms, and a small casino.  I walked right on by -- never been a gambler.  On the far side of casino was the skywalk leading to the hotel's other building.  More conference rooms and a Denny's on this side.

I wasn't actually hungry (I rarely am on vacation) but I figured I'd eat.  I chose Denny’s (I know – real authentic PR food) as it happened to be right there.  I should have known that was a mistake based on how empty it was.  The waiter didn’t write down my order, had to ask me again, then came back to say that they didn’t have any pickles, and then brings me a burger with tomatoes that I didn’t ask for.  I shouldn’t have tipped him but habit made me leave him something.  Turns out Fransico knew what he was talking about.  Lesson learned but at least the burger was tasty. 

As the rain had slacked up during my meal, I took a brief walk outside.  A bunch of hotels, restaurants and shops line the street along with a bunch of cops.  They were everywhere, in cars, on bikes and on foot.  Good to know I'd be safe while there.

It started to drizzle again so I headed back to the room to rest up. I could only hope that the island would get all that rain out of its system overnight.