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  1. America's Oldest City

    Tuesday, August 11, 2009

    I meant to make this post back in June. Clearly, it just didn't happen. Now, I've got some time, and I'm making up for it! Enjoy this post, as well as the next couple of ones to come...


    Another friend turns 30. Thank God they are all doing it before me!! It softens the blow, and kind of lulls me into thinking I am already 30. I've got a couple months more to go before I hit that milestone (landmine?). Anyway, 30 is a pretty big deal to us humans -- it feels like an appropriate moment to look back and forward, and to share with your favorite people -- so at the close of May, Karin and I converged upon Katie in Gainesville, the sleepy town that is home to the Florida Gators. If you weren't a fan of the Gators before going to Gainesville (like me), you're less of a fan once you see the Gator mailboxes and orange and blue gas stations. It's not like there is much going on in G'ville, other than the most AWESOME pizza parlor and junk emporium I have EVER been to in my life. Satchel's is not only awesome atmosphere, but an awesome blend of kitschy eclectica. I seriously wish St. Pete had the same kind of place because then, my town might be close to being a 10. Clearly, there was no other choice than to hit Satchel's for dinner before going out on the town (for the first time that weekend). Satchel's did not disappoint.

    After dropping off the Satchel's leftovers at Casa de Katie, we headed out to downtown G'ville where we met up with more kindred folk to continue the celebration. At the first bar, there was a band that was completely, and surprisingly, amazing (think NPR All-Songs-Considered fare, and then smile because it is good fare). I was impressed, and energized. As the set ended, Katie downed her midnight birthday shot, then our merry group ambled onto to The Top. On our way, we negotiated a free birthday weiner for Katie from a sidewalk vendor of processed meats. Apparently, processed meats do not rise to the top of Katie's favorites list, and the bite we egged her to take, was not a delicious bite. [And here is where Katie and I differ. I love me some street vendor hot dogs, sausages, kielbasa, what have you, especially late at night after a few cheaply priced beers. What doesn't taste better? Well, OTHER than a hot dog at the ball park?!?]

    I hit my wall at The Top. I had driven up from St. Pete straight after working a full day, and I was wiped. I was falling asleep on my bar stool, and I couldn't concentrate enough to hear the conversation over the background din. Yet, somehow, we made it to last call before calling it a night.


    Hey, good thing the neighbor in the apartment downstairs knew that we had gone out for a late night!! Because what says "Good Morning" like blasting the effing Bee Gees' "Night Fever" at 7:51 AM?!!?? And better yet, let's repeat the song, then follow it up with John Travolta's theme song from "Saturday Night Fever"?!? Disco usually doesn't make me so cranky, but at 8 AM, it's a different story. I ended up falling back asleep, only to awake distraught from the throes of a thoroughly upsetting dream. Good thing I had my best girls and a day at the beach to brighten my mood.

    After a quick breakfast, and packing up supplies, Katie, Karin, and I hit the back roads of northern Florida, headed for the beaches of St. Augustine, FL, the oldest city in the U.S. Juan Ponce de Leon set foot there in 1518 (I'm pretty sure), where he discovered The Fountain of Youth (and we'll get to that later). In about 2 hours, the three of us were bathing beauties on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. The water temperature is perfect this time of year. Cold enough to be a bit a of a struggle, if you just wade in, but wonderfully refreshing once you're in it, basking in the sun and hot air. St. Augustine is a beautiful beach. It's pretty flat and firm, so you can ride bikes along it, and in places, even drive your car right up on the beach and park for the day. We kept it simple with beach towels, sarongs, and a cooler.


    We got our fill of the beach, then headed over to our hotel to check in. We scored a pretty great deal at the Quality Inn, where we got ready for dinner, drinks, and dessert. We ate a New Orleans flavored meal at Harry's, then headed over to The Tini Martini for some potent drinks and gifts.

    After gifts, giggling, and gabbing, we felt it was time for some ice cream. We grabbed the last few scoops from Whetstone Ice Cream. Ice cream in a waffle cone is better than birthday cake, if you ask me. I'm not the birthday girl (yet), but I think Katie felt the same. We drifted off to bed knowing it was our last night in St. Augustine, and the next day would be filled with travel home; however, the long goodbye would not begin before we tasted the water from the Fountain of Youth.

    My God. Where do I begin? We are all tourists at some point or another, and we all love a good attraction. The Fountain of Youth has to be the most GLORIOUSLY tacky spectacle I have ever seen; this INCLUDES South Carolina's way over-hyped South of the Border. [The only other destination I have been to that might rival it -- Spongeorama in Tarpon Springs. Oh yeah, you read right.] We arrived at the Fountain of Youth via streets lined with Spanish moss-encrusted trees and a lovely arched sign.


    With an entrance like that, the Fountain of Youth has GOT to be something great, right? You have NO idea...Armed with our coupons for $1 off the admission price, we paid the fee, and entered the site of Ponce de Leon's miraculous discovery. Peacocks abound on the property, which rolls right up to the Intracoastal Waterway.


    I hadn't seen this many peacocks since my days living in Miami, when I would see them toodling around Coconut Grove in the mornings during my runs. They are beautiful...and loud, sqawking little birds. I kept a safe distance in case one should decide to start pecking at me. Thank you Mom for having me watch Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds at such a young age. I forever fear the pecking of birds.

    I know, you're all just WAITING for the big reveal -- the great, and mighty Fountain of Youth. Let me tell you, it's beyond any sort of tacky you can imagine. You enter, and this is what you see:

    Oh yeah. Plastic manikins, plastic flowers, painted murals, Christmas lights, and the lovely fountain itself is about 2 feet wide with some nasty tasting, very minerally water. I got asked if I was 23 at a bar the other night, and I still get carded for alcohol, so maybe the water really does have restorative powers. Maybe.

    After tasting the water of youth, us gals tooled around the rest of the property until it got a little too hot (and a little buggy). We checked out the uber-tacky gift shop, and debated over magnets, shot glasses, and perhaps purchasing some bottle youth water.

    As always, I'll end my post about a (not-so-) far-off place by saying that I wish I had more time there. It never seems that a city opens itself up to you until you spend at least a week there; and it that time it either lulls you into thinking you've only scratched the surface (and you need to stay longer to discover all its secrets), or you've had enough and it's time to discover new place to explore. St. Augustine made me feel the former, and I hope I'll take another road trip - this time to become more than just an acquaintance with this old city.

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  2. Brooklyn!

    Friday, June 5, 2009

    Impulsively, I felt May needed to be kicked off in style, so I headed on up to Brooklyn to visit with Brother and Wife. This impulse nicely coincided with the momentous occasion of my dear old friend's 30th Birthday. I'm never really in need of a reason to celebrate, but a birthday works nicely, don't you think. As per usual, I landed at JFK late, late, late on Friday night, which shall we just call it Saturday morning?? I think we shall. JFK has a nasty habit of tardiness, regardless of whether one is coming or going. Noel and Amy were kind enough to let me forgo the beautiful NY subway by coming to pick me up in the White Knight -- the Jetta. Noel loves to drive, since getting his Learner's Permit and all (hahaha!!). With a quick change, and a flip of the wall switch, it was bedtime.

    Saturday morning brought some sumptuous yum yums my way, after a quick walk around the block to the bakery. Nothing says "Good morning!" like a hot cup of coffee and a chocolate croissant. And nothing screams "New York" like a walk to Brooklyn Industries for some shopping, followed by delicious bloody marys as an appetizer to a delicious early afternoon brunch with Julie and Dave. Brunch, above and beyond breakfast, is my all-time favorite mealtime activity. Screw tapas, forget Early Bird Specials. Brunch is the absolute BEST. Particularly when you are sharing brunch with some of your favorite people. Post-brunch, we all chilled out in preparation for Julie's 30th celebration at Freddy's Bar & Backroom.

    Once gathered at Freddy's, we ordered a pizza, which came with individual packets of spices for your individual zesting pleasures and preferences. As we finished up the pizzas, we noticed a band of middle-aged, community college professor/high school teacher-types setting up their equipment. Things did not look good. What kind of "entertainment" were we in for on this Saturday night? Would we be forced from Freddy's Backroom, and up to the Bar? Would we have to abandon the pizza?? The suspense was killing us (see Exhibit A, below)

    Exhibit A: Death-inducing suspense

    And so, the Band of Middle-Aged White Men began playing. We remained unsure. Where was this ditty going. Fast-forward halfway through the set, and the entire backroom is singing along to each song, waving their glasses in the air like they just don't care, and no one wants these guys to stop entertaining us. The lead singer toes the line -- knowing he looks like the absent-minded, tone deaf professor, and knowing that he has us all in the palm of his hand (see Exhibit B, below).


    Exhibit B: The Band of Middle-Aged White Men that are more than they appear to be.

    Unfortunately, their set ended, and they made way for another band of youngins, which were horribly, and disappointingly dismal. The trio started with a 17th Century song that would depress even the most cheerful of sugar-hyped cheerleaders. Like, major bummer, guys. This band sucked and forced us to abandon ship for the front Bar. Not even inebriation could make that band worth listening to for...at all. Ever.

    Our merry group of birthday revelers didn't last much longer into the night, and the first clue that it was time to go might have been when I took a drink from a pint that, after swallowing, I was pretty sure was not even mine to begin with. Alcohol kills everything, right? Even backwash?? Let me believe so, alright?

    Sunday brought with it the bright hope of a Yankees game at the new Yankee stadium. Not once had I been to the old stadium. Maybe nothing screams "New York" more than a subway ride and a Yankees game? I think that's an absolute. On the way to the stadium, Noel, Amy, and I prayed the weather cleared up for there to be a game. When we emerged from the subway, our prayers had not yet been answered, as we slogged our way across the street to the stadium entrance.

    The new stadium is beautiful and a great park (see Exhibit C, below).

    Exhibit C: The *new* Yankee Stadium

    Well, after chowing down on fries, hot dogs, hamburgers, shakes, and sodas from Johnny Rockets, the game went from rain delay to postponed. So much for me experiencing the Yankees on their home turf. At least the food was delicious. We waded back across the street to the subway and headed home for some rainy day video games and cable watching.

    Cable is a serious luxury to me, as I do not have it at home. And Anthony Bourdain is one of my favorites. I wish I could travel around the world eating like he does. I even think I might be pretty good at it. I guess if you see this blog turn into something more than just musings about my piddly domestic (and sometimes international) travels, then you know I've quit my safe government job and headed off into the great wide open, seeking out tomorrow's most delectable eats in a far off place.

    That night, Noel and Amy hosted a delicious dinner right at home, with Julie and Dave as guests. And game night began. This is the part I love about visits with family and friends -- the joking conversation over good food and fun games. There isn't much more I love in this world than my favorite people gathered around a table, enjoying each other over life's simplest pleasures -- food, wine (or beer), and laughter. It was a great send off, as my return flight home had me rising at 4 AM, and arriving at the office at noon-thirty.

    Early mornings are not my forte (as evidenced by my Machu Picchu experience, see June last year). Thus, the 4 AM wake-up call almost had me leaving my glasses at the Noel-Amy homestead. Fortunately, I remembered before the car service even got to the end of the block. Additionally, I found that I REALLY hate cable news. Why does CNN/MSNBC/FoxNews have to be on EVERY TV at the airport, feeding such hyperbolic BS into the minds of the American people??? And why do so many talking heads need to be on TV when none of them say ANYTHING of relevance or import? It blows my mind. The soundbites I heard through my early morning dozing on the terminal bench had me cringing, and praying that some child took a BB gun to the damn TV before I got up and wrenched it off the wall. Maybe this is just a by-product of not having cable. If I did have it, I may have built up some sort of immunity to the yackity yack yack of cable news. Or not. Regardless, I made it home without delay, but still feeling like I needed more time away. Thanks goes out to Noel, Amy, Julie, and Dave, though, for being such great hosts in the great city of New York. New York never feels big or overwhelming when you've got great people there making it feel like you are coming home.

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  3. At the end of April, it's time to camp again! This time, across the state, close to New Smyrna/Daytona Beaches. I took a half day from work, picked up Jacob, and we made our way to the campground, just outside Deland, FL, where we met up with Kathryn, Marti, and Leo. Hontoon Island State Park is unique. You load up a ferry (i.e., pontoon boat) with all your camping gear. The ferry takes you across the river to Hontoon Island, where you unload all your gear. Then, you load your gear into a passenger van, which takes you to your campsite...and you unload all your gear, again. The five of us had two campsites right next to each other. All the sites are shaded by trees, and there is a group campsite tucked in at the back of the island. There are a few small cabins that can be rented, too. Because of the drought, NO open fires are allowed. Good thing we brought firewood with us. And sticks for marshmallows. And makings for S'mores. Because we planned to cook in the fire, we trucked all of our dinner makings out to the picnic area with the grills, and bought charcoal at the park store. The walk from the campsite to the picnic area, which is where the ferry dropped us all off, is about a 10 minute leisurely walk along a sandy path. We made chicken wrapped in foil with veggies, and after a long day of work and traffic through Orlando on I-4, it tasted so good. Our first night at "camp" was off to a pretty good start. Once we packed up dinner, we headed back to camp. Without a campfire, there isn't much to do. The mosquitoes were on attack, so our conversation was cut short as we all headed to the safety of our tents. We were of the minority, though, as the rest of camp consisted of more boisterous folks that kept the lanterns lit past 10, and kept talking as if they were the only ones on the grounds. Marti and I heard all about this guy's experience with Australian catering. He said the food they provided was good, but it was different from American food. All he wanted was a burger, and the burgers they have tasted different. Not bad, just different, so he didn't eat as much and lost weight. I know -- THRILLING conversation, right? I kind of wanted to smack the guy, not only for preventing blissful sleep from taking me away, but for being such an AMERICAN!! With the wisdom of the band 'Til Tuesday, I say: hush, hush...voices carry. Keep it down now!

    The next day, I tried to sleep in. This is always hard when the sun starts streaming through the screens of my tent, and the rest of camp starts waking up to make breakfast. Plus, my make-shift sleeping pad of foam egg-crate and my sleeping bag did my body no favors. But Kathryn made her amazing oatmeal on her portable camp burner, and Marti made her amazing coffee in her French press, and I began to forget about my aches and pains. Breakfast is my favorite meal, any time, any place, and it is made all the better when you wake up from a night's rest in your tent. Because there is no swimming allowed at Hontoon Island (gators galore!), we decided to make a trip to Blue Springs State Park, which is a lazy spring-fed swimming hole. You can float down the river in a tube, then jump from the swimming platform into the river. The water temperature stays about the same -- 72 degrees F -- all year because it is spring fed. We all ate our lunch after a quick trip around the park (for recon purposes). Then, Jacob and I took Leo floating a couple of times, but I think he's more of an underwater swimmer. I don't think he loved floating as much as he loved diving under the water closer to the entry stairs and the spring itself. Regardless, the day was HOT and the water felt great, once you dunked yourself.


    [Sidebar: How OLD is this photo I took from the state park website? I feel like I stepped back to 1983. That's all I had to say.]

    Back at camp, we got some ice cream, then I took a nap. Amazing how floating and a little walking can make one so tired! Before I knew it, it was time for dinner. We hiked back out to the picnic area to stoke up the grill and get our hot dog on. It was a beautiful sunset and we saw a big ol' gator push off the shore and go out to find some dinner. I don't think gators instill enough fear in me. I'm not going to go walking up within arm's reach of one today, or tomorrow, but I think I would consider going within the reach of a 10 foot pole. To be honest, those animals can MOVE, and that's probably not the safest mentality for me to have. Clearly, I digress...

    Darkness brought us back to camp, and while one tries to read, the effort doesn't last long. Without a campfire, camping is not quite the same, and I don't have quite the same longevity to my camping days. I fell asleep without much trouble on this night, although I was sad to fall asleep with the knowledge that this was my last night at camp.

    In the morning, we packed up our gear, loaded it into the van, then onto the ferry, and finally into our cars. We sad a good bye to the park, and to each other, then loaded into our vehicles and headed home. Jacob and I took the scenic backroads route across the state. We stopped in Brooksville for lunch, which is about an hour north of Tampa, and a pretty sleepy old Florida town.

    As usual, it was great to get outside and out of St. Pete for a weekend. I always wish this weekend trips could last longer. It was definitely one of the last weekends one could camp comfortably in Florida, as May signals the start of the humid, hot, air conditioning season. Maybe next season, I'll be able to put my tent to use more than twice. Baby steps...baby steps. Until the next adventure...which is coming right up.

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  4. Running into the Sun

    Friday, January 23, 2009

    Sometimes (well, frequently), I surprise myself. I found out in the last few months that I AM a runner. Heading into my fourth year of active "training," I find that I want to run, even if I am not shooting for a specific event. Before, I never would have admitted that I liked logging long miles, other than enjoying the shock value of stating I ran double digit miles. Maybe I actually enjoy running now because I know I can do it, and I know how my body will respond. Perhaps that is why this past weekend, I had the most fun I have ever had running a race at the Phoenix Half-Marathon.

    Two good friends and I flew out to Phoenix this past Saturday. Ryan ran the full marathon (26.2 miles), while Bambi and I set our sights more reasonably on finishing the half-marathon (13.1). We stayed at a friend's house and carbo-loaded by making chicken alfredo with Texas Toast (and some chocolate chip cookies for dessert). For the second morning in a row, we were all up before the sun (the previous day, we had an early flight) and out of the house before 5 AM. In the darkness, we drove to the finish area at the ASU Sun Dome where shuttles would then take us to the start area. It was a COLD morning (in the low 40s), and the shuttle had us to the start area by 6 AM. Ryan's race started at 7:30 AM, while Bambi and I started our race at 8:30 AM. To stay warm, we wandered the start area where we found a lovely cactus in the middle of a grassy park...


    No coffee, cold temperatures, and an early start make anything seem amusing, but a heater worked even better than our funny bones to keep us warm.


    We remained beneath the glow of the heater and swaying to the beat of the cover band until it was time for Ryan to head to his start corral. Bambi and I dropped him off at his corral, wished him luck, then headed to the start line to capture the action. While we waited, we saw the elite racers, without an ounce of body fat or an expression of humor on their faces, warm up. And then, the gun was shot and the marathon started:


    After we thought Ryan had passed on down the course, Bambi and I headed over to the half-marathon start, where I met my good old friend Erik in corral #14. I've known Erik since my undergraduate days, and I hadn't seen him since he moved from DC to Chicago. I'm guesstimating it had been 5 years since I last saw him!! The half-marathon started as a wave start, meaning the race staff walked each corral group up to the start line to space out the runners by about 1-2 minutes between corrals. This gives runners considerably more space along the course than with a standing start, especially when, like this race, there are over 20,000 runners!! If you look closely at the horizon line in the photo below, you can see the balloon arch that marks the start line for the half-marathon. With the wave start, Erik and I crossed the start line about 20-30 minutes after the race clock started!


    The race was awesome! Erik and I ran the whole way together, and the course was lined with spectators, cheer squads, and bands. I loved looking around the course because I had never been to Phoenix before, and it was all new to me. It was a beautiful day for running and I felt great the whole way. Well, the whole way until about mile 10-11. For some reason, this is where I start to hurt and really NEED to see the next mile marker to know that I am getting closer to the finish! The finish FINALLY came into view, which is such an awesome boost. I get chills every time and it just pushes me that much more. I find energy that I just didn't know I had left. Erik and I crossed the finish line in 2 hours, 20 minutes, and 57 seconds. That's a personal best for me in the half-marathon distance and I was really happy with how it all went.


    After stretching, and grabbing some snacks (best popsicles EVER!), Erik met up with his Chicago contingent, and Bambi and I went to wait for Ryan in the meet-up area on the University's track infield, as he completed the last of his 26.2 miles. It felt good to soak up some rays on REAL grass, while drinking a beer, and enjoying the festive atmosphere. It was a nice change up from local races for me, as I usually go, run, then go home, without staying for the after race events.

    Ryan completed his marathon with the look of an exhausted man. You never know how your first full is going to treat you, and Ryan's was brutal as his legs refused to consistently cooperate during the last half of the run. He muscled through, though, and he can now say he is a marathon finisher. That is something that only 2% of the population can say!!

    In the end, we all finished happy with our times and happy with the race. Phoenix is one helluva a well-organized race, and I would happily participate again. It was a great weekend, and I would to get back out to Arizona, so I could see more of it. I still haven't seen the Grand Canyon!! Guess that is all the more motivation to keep running, and go back for another personal best next year...

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  5. Christmas is one of my most favorite of seasons. The carols, the colors, the decorations, and the food all energize me as I decide how to show all my favorite people that I love them, miss them, and think of them more than they can know - whether through gifts, cards, or visits. Each year since my parents moved from the DC-metro area, Christmas is a travel adventure for the whole family. One year in New York, another in Philadelphia, and now, it seems, the tradition is settling in San Diego (at least for me) as families grow and airfares climb in price.

    I never thought I would see the day that I spent Christmas without cold, gray skies, and snow. And if I had thought that, I don't think I would envision myself saying that I don't miss the snow! Because I don't. Christmas spent on or near the beach, which is covered with a white grainy substance that I consider just as festive as snow, is infinitely better than Christmas spent huddled indoors with little or no sunshine.

    This year, I took six days to travel out to the parental homestead in Oceanside, which is about 45 minutes north of San Diego. As soon as I landed, Ma and Pa whisked me off to the San Diego zoo where we saw prairie dogs (one of my favs), polar bears, pandas (!!), pumas, flamingos, koalas (another fav), and warthogs. As it was Christmas Eve, and kind of cool and rainy, there were very few people at the zoo, allowing us to see the in-demand pandas, chewing on bamboo from their perches in the trees. I think I wouldn't mind coming back as a panda living in captivity. Other than being on display for much of the day, it's a rather pampered lifestyle. After getting our fill of "wild" animals, we trucked North to the homestead for dinner and puzzles and settling in for the night.

    On Christmas morning, there were the usual gift wrapped surprises, which are my mother's favorite part of the whole year. She just loves seeing our faces as we take in her thoughtful choices for each of us. The entire rest of the day was spent lounging, reading, watching movies, holding down the couch, doing puzzles, eating baked goods, and feasting on roasted turkey with twice-baked potatoes. Gotta love the home cookin' from Mom!!

    The day after Christmas, we skipped the malls, and drove up to Crystal Cove, which is just south of Huntington Beach. I love going to the beach in California because it is so different from the beaches in Florida, and even the beaches of the Atlantic Coast. The waves are more powerful, the water so cold, and the nearshore creatures are different. In CA, there is kelp instead of seagrass. There are rocky outcrops instead of a wide, shallow, sandy shelf. In CA, you walk with shoes and socks because the sand is cold; you wear a windbreaker because the air is brisk, and you pack a camera so you can capture it all...





    How can you not love that scenery!! While I often find it hard to have my family scattered across the lower 48, and wish that we had more occasion to get us all together in the same city, I also love that every family visit includes new sites, sounds, and places. From visiting the great tourist traps of the Big Apple and the City of Brotherly Love, to feeling the warm Southern California sun, I find our family's quality time together is only heightened by these shared experiences. And even though this Christmas had my immediate family separated by thousands of miles, I still felt everyone's presence as we recounted our Christmas mornings over the phone and opened delivered packages. A big thank you goes out to Ma and Pa for hosting another wonderful holiday, which left me rested and ready to ring in another year!!

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  6. Delays, Rental Cars, and Winding Roads

    Saturday, January 10, 2009

    Work sent me to NCTC again in December during the week preceding Christmas. In preparation for the trip, and the resulting time crunch upon my holiday to-do list, I spent much the lead-up week writing Christmas cards, baking cookies, and reveling. I think perhaps, in hindsight, I may have done too much reveling. On the morning of my flight to Virginia, US Airways called to notify me of a flight schedule change. I looked at my itinerary, and thought, "Well, that's only a 5 minute delay. I will head to the airport as scheduled." It wasn't until I was nearly to the airport that I realized that it was noon, and the new departure time that US Air notified me of was the LANDING time for my flight, as it was originally scheduled. In my hazy, sleep-deprived, over-partied state, I had not connected to the dots before packing up the Corolla. After a call to the airline, and to my ground transportation provider in Virginia (I was supposed to meet a shuttle that took passengers from Dulles Airport to NCTC), I realized I would miss the shuttle and have to rent a car.

    As I sat in the Tampa airport for 3 HOURS, I got directions from Dulles to NCTC. And 7 HOURS from the time I arrived at the Tampa airport, I was in Dulles airport, looking for a rental car. I hopped in my rented Chevy Aveo and headed out into the dark night. Curving country roads were not taking me home, but through the cold, dark hills of the Virginia/West Virginia border. An hour and a half later, I was checking in, and miraculously, the NCTC staff asked which hot dinner entree I would like to take with me back to my lodging!! The salmon was still warm and delicious when I rolled my luggage into my room.

    The next day started a week of intense conversations between team members about how to keep my two favorite corals from going extinct. The next day's dinner also resulted in my first ever experience with food poisoning. I was amazed that I made it through Peru without a single incident, then I get to NCTC (which is know as "Club Fed" in this biz), and I have a 12 hour attack that decimated my energy and appetite for the remainder of the week. I went to bed early every night, and really only ate lunch. It took until about a week later that I felt back to normal.

    Work for the week was intense, and productive. Our team worked well and accomplished a lot, and that made everyone feel good as we headed into the holidays. The day of departure brought a lovely cold rain to the area. I had a late flight, so I decided to see if I could catch a visit with my friend Suz and her adorable baby girl, whom I hadn't seen in a good many months. Fortunately, the timing worked out, and I got a brief visit in before she had to go out for the day. It was nice to see a friendly face, and laughing toddler, before slogging back to Dulles to return the rental car and try to snag the earlier flight. The weather was wreaking havoc on flights, as the Northeast got pounded with an ugly wintry mix, and so many flights blinked up "Cancelled" on the departures and arrivals boards.

    I made it home in the twee early hours of the morning, and regretted that my Club Fed visit included a bought with food poisoning and only the briefest of experience with snow. The rest of the time, the weather was that disgusting combination of temperatures in the 40s and rain. One can never seem to get warm under those conditions. Yick.
    ----------------
    Trip Stats:
    Number of offending chicken breasts: 1
    Number of deer spotted on morning walk: 7
    Number of wheel gripping twists and turns on country roads: 1,000 +/- 500

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  7. Bahama Breezes

    Tuesday, December 2, 2008

    I should be working on my Christmas cards right now, but my thoughts keep drifting back to the Bahamas. Maybe it is because I still feel like I am rocking, ever so slightly, on the deck of Royal Caribbean's Monarch of the Seas. Yep, the day after cornish hens, dessert, and a movie on Turkey Day, I headed over to Port Canaveral to embark on a 3-night cruise to the Bahamas. My first cruise ever, and I'm not sure if it might be my last. In the right application, those evil polluting cruise ships are loads of fun. Unfortunately, my friend and I hit upon a weekend of travel filled with mostly Floridian families and couples. And to my friend's disappointment, the Latin lounge was lacking luster and adequate salsa dancers. She's a horrible lead, and I'm a horrible follower. We did our best, and we made the most of the live salsa band. The first day on the boat, we were given a frozen rum beverage, and directed straight to the lunch buffet. There is no way one could EVER go hungry on one of these ships -- unless you locked yourself to the slot machines or the black jack table in the casino. Even then, I think one of the many wait staff would make sure to bring you some extra garnish in your drink to keep you fed. The wait staff was always around, making sure no man or woman went without alcohol longer than they wanted. Too bad the drinks aren't included!! My most helpful tip -- buy a bottle of wine with dinner. Packs a bigger punch for fewer dollars!

    By noon on the second day, we were pulling into our first port-of-call, that glorious monument to tourism -- Nassau. Atlantis is a gleaming pillar of excess on the port side, and Senor Frog's is a hovel of debauchery on the starboard side. The port can handle 4 cruise ships at a time, and our ship was sandwiched between the Carnival Imagination and a Norwegian Cruise Line ship that shall remain nameless (because I can't recall the name).



    As soon as we were able, we disembarked to head off on a catamaran snorkel adventure...all two miles away from the dock. The water was...not warm. It was 65 degrees. Like I said, not warm. But I had to get in! There were fish and coral and other oblivious snorkelers. The reef looked OK, but I've seen better with larger fish. This reef has a crap load of snorkelers dropped off at it every day. There were at least three boats there in the time we were there, and the reef is right next to a boat channel. Fortunately, our crew served up some excellent rum punch. Three cups later, and we were wobbling down the dock to the shops for a little perusing before dinner at 6.

    Our ship departed Nassau late on the second evening of the cruise, so we could get to CoCo Cay by 8 AM the next morning. The Cay belongs to the cruise line and is completely developed with charming Disney-esque huts with cute names like Blackbeard's Grill and Coconut Willies. The hammocks and lounge chairs were plentiful, though, and we found a place to read. Too bad the sun was not a plentiful as places to sit. The wind and waves deterred us from kayaking, and then the cool air and sprinkles of rain deterred us from lounging in the hammocks. We headed back to the ship where everyone had the same idea -- the hot tub. People were packed in like lobsters in a pot.

    As we pulled away from the Cay for the overnight journey home, the wind kicked way up and the waves had us rockin' and rollin' in our stateroom as we packed up our bags and got ready for dinner. I finally felt like I was on a boat!! Which is probably why I STILL feel a bit of the rocking, even 36 hours later. In the end, this trip was relaxing to the max. Other than having to keep an eye on the time so that I didn't miss an excursion, or a meal, or the boat, I didn't have to think about a thing. Too bad that once I got in the car to return home, all those thoughts that went on vacation...started coming back too!

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