Well … I got laid off last week.

 And I just ‘celebrated’ my twenty-year anniversary at my current employer in March.  How quickly things change.

I knew this was coming.  There had been a lot of changes imposed on my group in a very short time to cut costs.  I’d heard the rumblings of a recession for months now.   So, when the boom was lowered, it wasn’t a shock.  But still there are … feelings.

Admittedly, I was getting burned out.  I’d been in my position for ten years and was ready to move on.  The changes within the position in the last year did not help anything.  I knew it was time (waaaay past time) to get out, but I kept dragging my feet.  It was only when I started to get the layoff vibes in September that I started making plans.

My first move was to declutter the house with a plan to sell it.  Please note:  I love my house.  This is my first home, I’ve been in it for 19 years come December, and I have been very happy here.  But, since I had no interest in immediately jumping into a new job, there was no way I could maintain this house for very long.  The declutter part has been a bittersweet experience.

I have seriously been considering going expat or a while now.  I’d originally wanted to sell the house years ago and move to Australia.  But considering that I made this decision right before the 2008 housing crisis … and those plans kinda fizzled out.  Cut to 12 years later and that impulse to leave America is even stronger than before.

I changed my mind about Australia for various reasons then switched to New Zealand.  That idea died when I saw a report on Kiwi TV that said expats were leaving the country in droves because of the expense and the hard path to citizenship.  Then I began to focus on Portugal.  I have heard good things about the climate and the quality of life that has already attracted a large portion of black Americans to move there. 

Acquiring a visa takes some time though, and I was thinking I would have more of it before the layoff.  This job officially ends on 12/31/22 which has me scrambling to establish a workable timetable.  I canceled my planned scouting trip to Portugal for November and instead sent my passport to get renewed.  It expires in July 2023 and I wanted to make sure it got back to me before I put the house on the market.  I don’t know if I’ll have enough time to apply for the D7 visa before the first of the year, so I hatched a new plan.

I’ve also been researching the idea of a grownup gap year (my brain is just swimming with ideas).  I’ve found that there is a whole community of black women who took several months off to just travel and get their heads right.  I didn’t realize until the last month or so that I could really use a break, a time to rest and relax before finding another job.   Now, I’m trying to figure out an itinerary, looking for employment opportunities, packing up the house, searching for my medications overseas, picking up some Portuguese (Madeira would be my first stop), doubting myself every step of the way, feeling overwhelmed, excited, sad ….

Like I said.  There are feelings.

How I lost 40 pounds in 4 months (or how I spent my summer 2022)

 

Simple answer for this one:  WW online.

Before I say any more, this disclaimer:  I am not sponsored by Weight Watchers.  I’m not a dietician or personal trainer or anything like that.  I’m just a middle-aged chick who wanted to lose weight to improve my health.  Hope that makes things clear.

How this process got started:  I’ve been into healthy eating and regular exercise for years now.  There is a gym in the basement of my office building and I’d gotten into the habit of hitting it every morning before getting to my desk.  I’ve always been a bigger woman so my focus was not usually on weight loss as I’ve gained and lost the same 20 pounds over the years.  I firmly believe that exercise and a reasonably good diet are important to everyone. 

Things were going just fine until March 2020.  The transition to working from home indefinitely did nothing for my physical health.  Being jarred out of my routine and barred from the gym at the job (coupled with anxiety about Covid) left me basically immobile for two months.  It was only after realizing that I wasn’t doing myself any favors with all the additional butt time, I slowly adapted to a new routine.  The diet remained the same, but I started to move more.  I felt like I was getting back on track.

Cut to two years later and quarantine had not been kind.  It’s not like I was pigging out on the regular but by the beginning of 2022 I had reached the age of 50 and was post-menopausal.  I had no idea the damage to my body until I went for a routine doctor’s visit in May.  My blood sugar was at 106 and my weight had ballooned to 257 pounds.  What.  The.  Hell.

The WW program had been suggested to me multiple times in the past, but I always insisted that I could do this on my own.  Joining the online program, though, pointed out various tweaks I could make to my routine put me in a calorie deficit.  Cutting down on butter, cutting out my once-a-week fast food habit, and getting rid of all added sugar were a good start.  Additionally, I set up my own weight-lifting station in my living room and scoured YouTube for work at home routines.  Through these videos, I also learned how hormones can affect the body with age and how they need to be regulated to maintain a healthy body weight.  I added a probiotic to my supplement regimen along with apple cider vinegar and turmeric.  I was already a big fan of a multi-vitamin, fish oil and green tea so what’s a few more pills?

It is now routine for me to have two weight-lifting sessions a week and 2-3 cardio sessions where I power walk around the neighborhood.  I prepare bento boxes for lunch every week, using a food scale to maintain proper portions.  Water all day every day and logging my food online saw me losing around two pounds a week.  No cheat meals but I do allow myself cheat drinks.  I took up mixology right before starting WW -- two things that don’t really go together but at least WW assigns points for my 3 beverages a week.  I’m still shocked that this has gone so well.

What I’ve learned: 

1.       Consistency is key. 

2.       Plateaus will happen but don’t be discouraged. 

3.       Don’t be afraid to indulge every once in a while. 

4.       Rest when you need it.

5.       Weight loss is not a sprint, it’s a marathon.

6.       The best meal in the world is nothing compared to putting on a pair of pants that fit last year and watching them fall off while I laugh maniacally.  Good times.

Breaking out of my bubble

 

Wow.  It has been a wild 2 ½ years!  Who’da thunk that a few months after my very first cruise in December 2019, the world would come to a complete stop because of a pandemic.  That one of the first incidents to mark the strange year to come was that the very ship I was on, the Grand Princess, was the same ship that got held up off the coast of California because of the rising Covid cases onboard.  That what was originally supposed to be a few months of quarantine turned into a few years with no real end in sight. 

I still vividly remember the email sent out by my employer on that Tuesday, March 10, 2020.  To paraphrase: ‘Management has officially determined that ^&*(: has hit the fan.  Take your laptops home and don’t come back to work until we say it’s safe.’   Um.  Okay.  I worked from home for the next few days terrified of even leaving the house for groceries and trying to soak up as much info as I could find.  At the time, it was expected that we’d return to the office by the end of the month.  Then it was the end of May.  Then it was July.  Then it was …

I got used to the ‘new normal’ as the world descended into hell.  My work station had already been set up for my regular work from home Thursdays.  Online meetings with my teammates kept me connected to the outside world and the work load continued as usual.  The fact that I’m a loner with no social life made the adjustment much easier.

As uncertain as those first few weeks were, I certainly did not miss being in Atlanta traffic.  I had already started my year off with an accident in January that totaled my car – the second car of mine to be destroyed by someone else’s stupidity.  I’d purchased my first ever new vehicle that same month which was great, but there was always that nagging fear that this car, too, would get hit.  Quarantine took care of that fear nicely.  Instead of spending 2-3 hours a day, 4 days a week driving the 25 miles to and from work, I now spend less than an hour a week in the car.  I went from spending around $100 a month on gas to filling up the car maybe once every 3 months. My local grocery store is only a mile away and an easy walk on sunny days.  As much as I like my new car, I don’t mind that I’ve barely put 5,000 miles on it in 2 ½ years.

In some ways, I was designed for quarantine.  I’ve never required human company and now that I see everyone as teeming with virus, I got no problem staying away from them.  I busied myself with crafts and remained grateful every day that I still had a job, a roof over my head, and had avoided getting sick.

But now … I’m feeling a little restless.  2022 is coming to an end and I’m ready to break out of my bubble.  Other than a couple of trips to Hilton Head (still love that place) in 2021 and 2022, travel has been placed on the back burner.  I’ve barely written anything in the last 3 years.  I turned 49 during quarantine, then 50, and now at 51 I’ve had more than enough time to think about what I want to do with the rest of my life.  It’s time to get back to my passions, beginning with updating this blog more regularly.  I’m planning my first post-Covid international trip to Portugal in November.  Wish me luck.

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Mexican Riviera -- A Word About Travel

     

     There’s a reason I have a blog for travel, even if I don’t update it very often.  I love being able to see a place I haven’t seen before, having new experiences, and sharing those experiences with others.  And, as always, any trip I take just makes me eager for the next one. 

     The cruise was a nice combo of hotel, transport, and adventure and I highly recommend it.  As does the cruise line.  Princess really wants that money.  Both during the trip and with emails afterwards, they have bombarded me with brochures and discounts for future travel.  They had an offer where if you put down a $100 deposit, they’d give you shipboard credits and a grace period of two years to decide on your next cruise.  I thought about it but didn’t commit.  I want to see what other cruise lines have to offer. 

     There is a growing issue that does make the idea of more travel a bit tiresome.  The planes.  I flew out on Delta this trip.  I’ve flown them before with few issues, but this trip deserved some mention.  I’ve noticed that the last few flights I’ve taken have been more stressful than usual.  The boarding process at the airports seemed more chaotic than it used to be.  The airlines don’t feed you anything more than chips and drinks unless you pay.  And then there is the legroom.

     I have very long legs. Being compressed into an area smaller than the driver’s seat of a car for several hours is not fun.  The flight out of Atlanta to San Francisco is only about 5 hours and even that was intolerable.  I always chose the window seat when I fly.  That used to mean having a nice view while only having to share a single armrest.  Now, it feels more like being trapped in a corner, desperately trying not to kick the seat in front of me or elbow the person in the middle seat.  All this while trying to sleep, eat, or, you know, move to keep myself from cramping up. Yes, the planes are equipped with Wi-Fi, power jacks, and several recent movies to watch on your individual screens, but none of that makes the experience any less unpleasant. 

     A guy sitting behind me on the way back to Atlanta expressed my same sentiments.  He was an avid traveler for work, but once the airlines went from 35 inches of seat space to 28, travel became much more of a hassle.  The only alternative was to pay for first class or stop traveling.  He was seriously considering the latter.

     One other issue I had with this most recent trip.  While standing in line for security at SFO, I saw a sign saying that travelers whose driver’s licenses had a star in the corner (and yes that includes Georgia) will no longer be able to use them for flights as they won’t be considered a ‘real ID’ anymore.  Starting in August (I think), the only ID that will be excepted are passports.  Even for domestic flights.  That’s ridiculous.  While I encourage everyone to get a passport, people shouldn’t be forced to get one just to board a flight within the states.  I’m sure there’ll be a lot of people turned away from airports after this law goes into effect simply because they no longer have proper ID.

     I wanted to end this entry with these general feelings on travel not to discourage anyone (including myself) but as a reminder that no trip is perfect; everyone encounters issues.  The mishaps of this trip only serve as hints of what I need to change for next time.  Research is key; my packing was pretty spot-on thanks to YouTube videos on cruising (I recommend a travel clock as most ships don’t have them).  But losing my glasses has confirmed that I need to pack a spare whenever I travel (it is a miracle that this hasn’t happened before!).  And I’m already planning to get a pair of sunglasses as well.  Fewer group outings for me – too annoying.  And, as much as I hate to admit it, I might have to shell out the cash for plane upgrades for longer flights.  I don’t want to get to the point of choosing not to travel because I don’t want to deal the actual travelling part of the trip.  Vacation is worth the inconvenience and the hiccups.  Doesn’t mean you can’t minimize them whenever you can.

Mexican Riviera -- Manzanillo and Puerta Vallarta

12/23/19

     The agenda for this day was a shopping and beach trip in Manzanillo.  No water taxies this time; the ship pulled up right to the dock.  Our group still had to wait in the theater again until we got permission to leave the ship.  Sigh.

     After some shuffling, our group gathered on a bus only to travel a few feet away to arrive at another section of the pier.  Our guide brought us to the city square of the town and filled us in on some of the history of the place.  Nice to know but not exactly why I signed up for this excursion.  He spoke for about ten minutes then gave us about ½ an hour to wander the square on what would be the first shopping stop.

     The woman who sat next to me on the bus introduced herself as Sally.  Turns out she was also a solo black traveler.  She offered to take my picture if I asked.  I declined but kept her in mind.

Back on the bus, we traveled through the town, out in the middle of nowhere, all while the tour guide rambled on.  After climbing through steep, narrow, cobblestone streets, we ended up at a photo op overlooking the Las Hadas By Brisas hotel.  It’s a pretty white stone building right by the sea, most famous for being the location of the movie ‘10’ from the ’70’s.  We stopped for pics, then winded our way back down the hill.

     While the area was nice, and I never would have seen it without this tour, I was getting a little restless.  I wasn’t the only one.  This tour was for beach and shopping, not a long-winded history lesson or endless driving.  Once we got back on the road, a guy interrupted the guide and asked, “when are we getting to the beach?”  The tour guide assured us that we were on our way …

     To another over-crowded shopping complex.  This one was at least on the beach.  We had a bathroom break, did some more shopping (not me – no cash), and got back on the bus.  We traveled just down the road to a restaurant fronting the beach part of our tour.  The guide gave us vouchers for drinks and left us on the beach to fend for ourselves for an hour or so.

     I skipped the restaurant, put down my stuff and made a beeline for the water.  Finally!  I was in the cool water, happy that it was a few days until Christmas, and I was in the ocean.  Couldn’t ask for a better present …

     Until a powerful wave hit me and snatched the glasses off my face.

     Are you freaking kidding me?  I’ve been to Hawaii and Hilton Head multiple times, been in the ocean with my glasses on and never had an issue.  My one and only trip to Mexico, at Christmastime, and the glasses were gone, never to be seen again. 

     I stumbled back to the beach umbrella I shared with Sally and told her what happened.  Her response?  “Oh, they’ll turn up.”  What.  I lost my glasses in the ocean, not a library.  She was more concerned that the order she’d placed with the restaurant hadn’t arrived yet.  I’m practically blind and this woman is complaining about her food being late.  Lady, I got no sympathy for you.  Just lead me back to the boat and have a happy trip.

     That is indeed what happened.  By the time we got back to the ship, it was dark.  My main concern was to not break my ankle getting back on the boat.  I followed Sally back, discussing how much she loves to travel even if she can’t get anyone to come with her.  Her 21-year-old son decided he was too old to travel with her anymore, even if she was paying.  I told her he was an idiot.  Unless someone is taking you to the ninth circle of hell, if they are willing to pay for your travel, you go.  She agreed, saying she got tired of listening to other people’s excuses, so she just planned her trips on her own.  We had something in common there.  But, considering how much she complained about the restaurant and the tour on the bus, I wasn’t interested in making friends.  When she got stuck in customs because of her purchases, I reached the nearest stairway and squinted my way back to my room.

     THANK GOD I PACKED MY SPARE GLASSES.  I thought I was just overpacking and being paranoid when I put them in my suitcase.  But no.  The lenses are scratched, the prescription very old, and the frames are discolored, but after groping my way to my room, they were most beautiful things I’d ever seen!

     After getting some dinner, I ended the evening with this big, beautiful strawberry Margarita and a nice foot soak in a hot tub.  I’d chosen this tub because I’d stumbled on it the night before, completely deserted – my kind of situation.  That didn’t last for long, though, as a woman soon appeared with her daughter.  Normally, I would have high-tailed it, but I had to give the woman some credit.  As they approached the pool, she pointed me out to her kid, telling her not to disturb me as she entered the water.  This highlights one of the issues I have with most parents.  They usually don’t know or acknowledge that not everyone wants to deal with their children.  I have nothing but respect for a parent who realizes that, hey, other people do exist.  Thank you, ma’am.  And a Merry Christmas to you too!

     We were soon joined by the woman’s husband and another couple.  Everyone began to share stories of their day in Manzanillo and get acquainted.  The second man was from South Africa.  He lived in Cali with his American wife and they were telling us how their town was subject to the forced blackout recently.  I’d read about the wildfires all over the state and how the government would deliberately shut off the power for days at a time to try to prevent further fire damage from sparking power lines.  The couple told tales of rotted food and having to shower in cold water.  Have I mentioned that Cali is a nice place to visit but I would never want to live there?  Yeah.  Like the earthquakes weren’t bad enough.

     I told them my tales of wave swept glasses and sphincter-clenching canyons as the crowd of people in the tub grew.  Once there were at least ten people there, including two kids who were trying to swim in the tiny space, I knew it was time to call it a night.

     The third and final excursion I’d scheduled was on the next day, Christmas Eve; a walking tour of Puerta Vallarta.  I decided to skip it.  I’d lost my way in Cabo and lost my glasses in Manzanillo.  I figured if I left the boat a third time, I’d lose my head.  No thanks.  I watched Puerta Vallarta from the safety of the ship.  That night, I found my way to the same hot tub which was again deserted.  No drink this time but there was a fireworks display from the shore as we left port. That was a nice way to end our time in Mexico.  Despite the mishaps, I wouldn’t mind returning in the future

Mexican Riviera -- Los Cabos and Mazatlan

12/21/19

     It was sunny and beautiful by the time we got to our first stop of Los Cabos.  I was very grateful for the heat.  It was too cold for too long to be wandering around the boat while at sea.  I’d planned a UTV tour of a canyon for this stop so I got breakfast early and got ready to leave.

     I pre-paid for this excursion and was looking forward to the adventure.  But can I just say how much I hate group activities?  I hate being herded together, hate the waiting, and I’ve already mentioned that I hate having to adhere to schedules.  I was reminded of all these things as I was herded into the theater to wait for the other members of my group to get there.  After a dull wait, we played follow the leader onto one of the lifeboats that also served as a water taxi (that’s how I woke up that morning; with men outside my window getting that boat ready to launch). 

     After a 15-minute trip to the dock, we were herded by other people into an area for photos.  This picture was taken before I even knew what was going on.  When would I get the picture?  Did I have to pay for this?  How much do these people in heavy costumes make to stand around waiting to touch a bunch of strangers for a photo op?  I only realized later that the cruise line had multiple photo ops planned throughout the trip.  There were people stationed at every port and at the gatherings on board, like a visit from Santa and formal shots for Christmas.  The pictures would be posted outside of one of the bars for the passengers to pick up or ignore as they wished.

     But I didn’t know all that as we waited on the pier for the tour runners to appear.  Then we waited some more since we’d arrived a bit early for our scheduled tour.  Don’t get me wrong; what I’d seen of Los Cabos from the pier was very pretty, but it was still too much waiting.  Eventually, after signing waivers and showing ID, we were led through the mini-mall just off shore to a couple of waiting buses.

     The bus drove us far from the pier at what seemed like 90 miles an hour through the city of Los Cabos until we ran out of pavement.  Then it was up a windy, hilly, dusty road to the Wild Canyon facility.  After even more waiting, we were fitted for our gear and given brief instructions on how to work the dune buggies.  Taking pictures wasn’t allowed during the tour, even by passengers, for good reason.  The course was way too bumpy for holding a camera and if the thing flew out of your hand, it was as good as toast.  The place had their own photographers traveling on a separate car.

Each car seated only two people, but I was alone in lucky number seven as we again played follow the leader.  The UTV was loud and rocky even while idle.  When making turns or going over uneven terrain, it felt like the thing would shake itself apart.  Still, once I’d gotten the hang of it, it was a pretty cool experience.

     We stopped by a cliff overlooking the beach for a photo op and water break.  I scraped my leg scrambling down the rocks to the water, idly wondering if there was any nasty microbe in the rocks that might cause an infection.  We had a few minutes at the beach before climbing back into the UTVs.

     I was directly behind the leader by this point and followed him to another point where he stopped all the cars.  Then he got out of his car and waved one set of cars through before me.  Then it was my turn.  I noticed the photographer and others gathered at the top of a small incline.  As soon as I climbed it and looked down – let’s just say there was some foul language.  Spread before me was a wooden bridge suspended over a whole lot of nothing.  The cars were slowly going over it in single file to the other side of the canyon.  As I sat there staring at the route, it suddenly occurred to me that the tour guides had never shown us a map.  We had no idea beforehand where the course would take us.  I certainly didn’t sign up for this.  But, since there was no turning back, I took the plunge.  Very slowly.  Just don’t look down. 

     Once I made it to the other side in one piece, suddenly there was a problem.  I didn’t see any of the other cars.  I made a few turns trying to find someone but with no luck.  Then there was a guy coming up behind me screaming for my attention.  I stopped and he asked where I was going.  How was I supposed to know?  Never been here, remember?  He turned me around – then turned me around again.  See?  Even he didn’t know where to go from where I’d ended up.  Before I knew it, we were going back over that hellish bridge, much faster this time as it was just the two of us, and ended up back at base camp.  I still don’t know how that happened, but I was very glad to get out of that car.

     I swear, I don’t try to be the special one on these tours.  But that keeps happening to me.  Just another reason I hate group activities.   

     The buses weren’t ready to leave just yet (more waiting) so we were left to wander the facility.  In addition to the UTV tours, there were ziplining adventures across the canyon (uh, no.  The car was scary enough), a turtle farm and a hiking trail.  The place also had a bar and a gift shop.

     Please note that you could purchase the pictures that were taken throughout the excursion.  I ordered a package for $35 and was told that I’d receive an email with a link to the files in a couple of days.  It is now two weeks since I bought the package and despite my emails to the company, I have yet to receive a link.  If I ever get the pictures, I’ll add them to the blog at a later date.

     Busing back to the pier, we passed by the Hard Rock Café.  I’m a big fan of their merch; I’d just purchased a t-shirt and bag in S.F.  I wanted to tell the bus to just let me out, but I knew they wouldn’t.  Unfortunately, the café was way too far from the pier to walk and I was wary of being mugged by taxi drivers.  Maybe next time.

     Instead, I did some shopping along the pier.  Can’t say I’m a fan of the Mexican shopping stalls.  There were multiple vendors in a big warehouse, all crammed together and hawking all kinds of stuff.  There were the usual t-shirts and bags, but also bottles of vanilla, knives, jewelry, just so much stuff.  I found one booth full of these gorgeously painted wooden bowls and a very eager man showing them off.  Only problem was, I’d already run through my cash, the few stalls that accepted credit cards only take Visa, and I’d left my Visa on the ship.  That Visa was my check card so there was no way for me to get any more money.  I left the guy’s stall and the shopping complex, saying I’d be back (I wouldn’t).  The vendor followed me down the street to tell me where to get some cash.  Sorry, dude.  I don’t even remember my password for my Mastercard and there was no way I was taxiing to the ship just to get my Visa and come back.  I still liked those bowls though.

 

12/20/19   

     I had heard some bad things about violence in Mazatlán, so I decided to stay on the boat and have a massage.  A unique and relaxing experience.  I was so loose, I even let the Asian lady who gave the massage convince me to book another service on Christmas day.  It was me, Michelle, and Mazatlán during that day and later a killer coq au vin for dinner.  This was, by far, my favorite day of the trip.

Mexican Riviera -- The Ship

    

    I sailed on the Grand Princess of the Princess Cruise Line.  I don’t know if it’s officially classified as a mid-range ship but that’s what I’m calling it.  It didn’t have the stuff you’d seen on one of the mega-huge ships.  There was no climbing wall or wave pool or anything like that.  What it did have was multiple pools and hot tubs, shops, a few restaurants, several clubs, a spa, a wedding chapel, a gym, a casino, and a huge theater that could seat half the people on the boat.  More than enough to keep my interest.  And then there are the bars …

     Before I started my research on cruises, I really had no idea how many people hop a ship just to get hammered and not have to drive home.  Everywhere you turned, they were offering you booze; duty-free bottles for sale in the shops while at sea, drink menus on the tables on Christmas day, a champagne waterfall in the piazza (sorry I missed that one).  There was a drink of the day listed in the Princess Patter, the newspaper with the rundown of ship activities delivered to the room every day.  I had my first drink on embarkation day from a waitress who just happened to have an extra drink of the day on her tray.  One of the many packages offered for purchase before the cruise was for alcohol.  Most of the research I’d done said it wasn’t worth the price unless you were a serious boozehound and since I rarely drink, I took a pass.  I did have about 5 drinks total while I was on board, other than that it was water and coffee the whole time.

     There was a steakhouse and an Italian restaurant that were reservation-only and filled up quickly for Christmas day.  There were also three formal dining rooms.  I wanted to hit one of those on the 25^th but the line was too long.  So I went to the standard buffet on deck 14 where I ate most of my meals.  They had a huge selection of pretty good food available most of the day.  There were occasional theme nights based on different nationalities like Mexican or Asian.  Breakfast was always the highlight for me as they served a variation of French Toast every day (crispy and delicious).  And, of course, the fries.  French fries are my favorite food.  The buffet served them every day.  They were also served at the burger joint near the back of the ship, so I did my fair share of indulging.  So many fries … 

     I didn’t expect the crew to be so international, particularly on a ship sailing from America to Mexico.  The first woman I spoke to worked in the spa and was from Poland.  The woman doing the Muster Drill (the mandatory safety demonstration) was South African.  The captain and the activities director were British.  There were multiple Asian and Hispanic folk on board, making the crew a real cross section of nationalities. 

     As for the passengers, it was a good mix of people.  The ship had about 3,000 people; not all elders, not all kids, many of them were my age or younger.  I heard a lot of Chinese in the lobbies and elevators but judging by the quilted jackets and vests, I guessed they were from SF Chinatown.  (Seriously, nearly everyone in the city wore some version of a quilted jacket.  They were everywhere.)

     Another thing I didn’t expect was how hard this cruise line still holds onto the whole Love Boat angle.  For any of you who don’t remember the show, this was the exact cruise route they always took, sailing from SF to ports in Mexico.  I think that boat’s name was the Ocean Princess, but the route is the same.  The original cast from the show were actors in the safety video and there was a plaque near the piazza that commemorated the cast getting a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

     I’d been warned about the tiny rooms on cruises, but I was pleasantly surprised.  The room was a decent size with a view of the water just past the lifeboat.  There was a mini fridge under the ‘bar’ area and a decent sized TV.  No live television at sea, but plenty of movies, some documentaries and, yes, episodes of the Love Boat.   Only the bathroom was the size of a dime.  That took some getting used to; bathing was always an acrobatic act of trying not to bump my elbows on the tile or brain myself with the shower head when the boat lurched.

     I have to admit, I missed out on a lot of the activities.  I’m not a fan of schedules when I travel as my daily life is already regimented enough.  While there was always something interesting happening on the ship – bingo, trivia contests, art auctions, live entertainment, demonstrations, movies – I mostly just wandered from event to event, catching what I could.  I’d drift through the casino into the piazza to see mariachi players, then slide through a club where there was a lesson in line-dancing on stage, then head up to my favorite spot on the Lido deck and watch the kids splash around in the pool.  I willed myself to stay up late one night to catch a movie by the stars (Spiderman: Far from Home – saw it already in Hilton Head but wanted to see it again on the big screen) and saw a portion of a musical in the theater on the last night at sea but that was a about it for me. 

     The only problems I had were minor.  The toilet was an issue.  It’s a vacuum based system making it very loud and only occasionally reliable.  I’d have to babysit it sometimes before leaving the room which was annoying.  The first night was rough because the entire room creaked with every movement of the ocean.  It didn’t help that I was exhausted, still adjusting to the time change (Cali is three hours behind Atlanta, and we’d lose another two hours on the way to Mexico), and the room never did get warm enough no matter how much I played with the thermostat.  I ended up congested with a runny nose for the last few days of the trip.

     Overall, I loved the whole cruise experience.  Food was always available with no dishes to wash, the housekeeping staff were excellent, and the other passengers were very nice.  I’ve always enjoyed being on the water and appreciated the freedom offered on board.  Though events were scheduled every day, nothing was mandatory.  You were free to pick and chose what you wanted to do even if that was just sitting on the deck with a book and some tunes (my favorite).  I didn’t get seasick, despite some choppy weather at the end of the trip. Even though there were a few hiccups, I’d definitely do it again.  Except next time I’m getting a balcony.

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.