Trip Recap

I've spent 17 hours on the road in the past day and a half thinking about how I would tell you all about my vacation. There are perhaps two ways to do so, the first way would be sugarcoat things. I'd tell you what a fabulous time I had, how I can't wait to go back, look at me...be jealous, and share a few pictures.

But since I strive to maintain a level of honesty on this blog I will say that telling you that version of the story just isn't quite fair. Because when I'm being honest, both with myself and you all reading, I will admit this one thing: vacation kicked my ass.

It is sort of an oxymoron to think of a vacation that kicks you ass. Don't you take a vacation to avoid ass kickage? To sit on a beach and meditate on life, drink a few frozen concoctions and chill?

Yes, well I suppose some people do. People who take all inclusive trips to some resort in the Bahamas. Those who fly to their destinations. And those who travel ALONE.

But it's adventurous to think you can get a group of people together who call themselves family, make them various ages and then think that everything will be peachy. I know this because I saw it all over the island, all week long in families that were not just my own.

The trip began with a route change, the first of many changes in my "plans". And I won't deny that I struggled with the idea of just letting the little things go. There was no Savannah on the way down, and once we were on the road I was at the mercy of two people who don't believe in stopping to rest for the night. Which meant no hotel. And one group of highly exhausted people upon arrival.

The route change did mean we got to sit in traffic in Atlanta for quite some time, at which point I did manage to get my "I told you so" moment. This lone traffic problem meant that on the way home I finally got my way. But, more on that later.

Because there was no layover and minimum stopping we arrived way ahead of schedule to Sanibel. So ahead of schedule we had to drive around the island for three hours, killing time before our condo was ready. This was another hitch in my plan. A very hot, very annoying hitch that had us circling the 12 mile by 5 mile island God knows how many times.

Thankfully check in went seamlessly, the condo was exactly as it was online and the view was gorgeous. There is no sugarcoating this part, it's all truth. I was mystified by the gulf outside of my window. The sound of waves lapping the shoreline. The birds flying overhead and the palm trees so close you could touch.

There is not much to really report on for the week. There are things I wanted to do but didn't, like spend more time on Captiva or shell Bowman's Beach, but nothing I'm crying over. Jon and Dad had a great time fishing, including catching a huge snook and various other specimen I'm not familiar with. And for the most part I enjoyed myself.

Except for the lugging and hauling and cooking. There were so many times I cursed myself this week for not planning a vacation to a resort that sits out chairs and umbrellas for you. A resort that has a restaurant on site. Or one with towel service. This has become the biggest gripe of the entire trip. Sometimes a vacation rental just isn't as relaxing and this was one of those times.

I'm still not sure if it was all to blame on the long ride which started me off in the sleepy column anyway, but I spent 7 days in a blur of tired, droopy thoughts and actions. I don't think I ever recovered before I was on the road again.

A vacation should be relaxing. Despite how close we were to the beach it didn't make hauling a chair and umbrella down the boardwalk any less not-fun. Nor did the fully equipped kitchen ever make up for being stranded on an island with a $6 toll and NO FAST FOOD.

I don't think McDonalds had ever sounded so good before.

So I learned.

I learned that Sanibel is out of my system for a while.

I learned that a long drive is no longer appealing.

I learned that no matter how cute the vacation rentals are in the future: PICK THE RESORT INSTEAD.

God, I got so smart on this trip.

By the time we decided to leave everyone was in agreement that avoiding Atlanta would be preferable. Which meant two things in my little mind: Savannah and Asheville.

Remember those parents of mine who don't believe in laying over anywhere??

Yeah, I don't think I have to tell you how that leg of the trip went. I think I managed to wave to both cities as we flew by.

Again, I'm just letting that one go. No need in getting worked up.

At least I can now add both Carolinas to the list of states I've been in. Only 40 more states to go.

It was a trip of learning, of growth and of letting go. I got Sanibel out of my system for a while, had a wonderful time shelling and taking pictures, and managed to squeeze in a moment or two of solitude.

Just remind me next year that I need to be at some hotel and spa in Savannah or Asheville. ;)

I'll be posting a few pictures this week of my favorite moments from the trip. Just to offset the complaining I guess. And I'll share all of my pretty "souveniers". If anything, they truly kicked good ass on this trip.

But first my pupils need to get reacquainted with the backs of my eyelids; they've missed each other.