Finally, it’s here. The unofficial start to the summer season.  I went to the gas station to fill up my explorer and just about passed out.  My debit card stopped at $75 and it still wasn’t full.  Thankfully it’s only 14 miles to the beach from our home in Florida.  We live pretty close to Clearwater, but with traffic and tourists we prefer to go to another Pinellas County beach called Howard State Park.  When we moved here from Connecticut almost five years ago we discovered the beach by accident.  We would just drive down US 19 and follow signs that said “beach” hoping to find somewhere to hang out.  As we drove through the park we saw lots of picnic areas that people can use on a first-come basis. As we drove further we came up on a causeway that led to a little spit of land covered in palm trees.  I thought we had landed on Gilligan’s Island!

There are no concession stands, just a couple of bathrooms, the gulf of Mexico and most importantly, sand soft enough to take a nap on.  It is busy on the weekends and during Spring breaks.  We meet many people from my native United kingdom and also  many Canadians.

The native wildlife here is amazing.  We have these birds that are about 4 feet tall and are blue-grey in color.They have really skinny long legs and just walk around.  We had to wait about 15 mins to get into our street yesterday as they were crossing the road and taking their own sweet time.  At the beach, most days we see some dolphins and lots of flying fish.  If you have ever seen flying fish you know how much they can freak you out if you are not aware of them.  I just don’t want to get smacked in the head by one.  We saw a baby sandshark last week, and there are reports of man of war jellyfish in the area.  Must keep my eyes open tommorrow.

We have already put a bunch of small bottles of water into the freezer to take with us.  We don’t bring food there as the sea gulls are pretty aggressive and will take your food right out of your hand.  Its how we can tell the locals from the tourists.  None of us are eating on the beach.

It’s my final weekend off from work. I have to go back to work on Tuesday for the first time since Feb 26th. Got to tell you that I’m a little nervous about going back. I mean, I do like my job and I’m tired of being home sick but I work in a call center and I am going to miss the great outdoors.  I have been sick for almost 2 years now.  I guess it’smore chronic than anything else.  In Aug 2006, my husband Michael and I were going to Northern Ireland for my cousin’s wedding.  Two days before we left I got an ear infection and went to the walk in clinic. I got a prescription for an antibiotic and a liquid eardrop medication.  While we were on vacation, threats of bombs on planes from London to the US caused days of flight cancellations and delays. We were due to fly Belfast to London to New York to Tampa.  Just thinking about it makes me tired.  We took an earlier flight from Belfast to London than we were booked on originally.  When we called the day before, they told us we could change at no charge due to the circumstances and have no charge for excess baggage as we would be unable to take anything onto the plane with us.  When we got there, they wanted to charge us for the change in seats.  When I told them what I was told the day before, I was told that it was an error. If we wanted to change at no charge we would have to go standby.  Sign me up!  Its 4.30 am and the airport is desserted.  We got onto the flight with no problem.  We had been given a clear plastic bag and we could have our passorts, drivers liscence, tickets and medication with a doctors label on it.  That was it. no newspaper, book or anything.  Good thing it was only a 45min flight.

We arrive at Heathrow and everything is eerily quiet.  We have to pick up our luggage and take it with us. We had I think 4 cases as we were there for a wedding and several parties (and a girl can’t be seen in the same dress twice in 2 weeks!). We were looking for Virgin Atlantic ticket counter and we had to go through security three times before being let into the departures hall.  We were searched and searched.  I think some of the secuity detail know me more intimately that my doctor did.  When we finally got into the departure hall there were thousands of people there.  We got into line, waited for an hour only to find out that we were in the wrong line.  Got in the right line and waited four more hours.  The whole time we were hearing flights being cancelled. Both earlier Virign Atlantic flights did not make it so we were not extremely hopeful about ours leaving.  They called for all passengers on our flight to come forward and we were escorted to the next security point.  Some men were randomly searched to what looked like the skin level, and this being the 6th time we were searched the only thing we could do is go with the flow.  Finally about 6 hours after landing at Heathrow we are free of our baggage and able to go to the gate.  Our flight has been delayed.  Spent some time window shopping as we could not carry anything on board.  We thought we had a small loophole as they said you could not take anything on US carriers on the London to New York trip, but ahah we were flying Virgin Atlantic… a British Airline.  We spent a long time picking out one book each, and when they scanned out tickets they refused to sell them to us.  I wanted to cry.  I did manage to buy a few t-shirts and was able to get them through by wearing them.  I just must have looked like a little blonde marshmallow wandering through the airport wearing 5 shirts, one on top of the other.  If I had seen me, I’d have moved as far away as possible.  Good thing was, I really do suffer from severe panic attacks and I think the thought of going on a large capsule with no exits for a 6 hour flight with maybe someone trying to blow your narrow behind into Kingdom Come qualifies as a reason for a mental meltdown.  I took a xanax and tried to relax. Too bad it was too late in the day for a mimosa.

Bad thing about my medication was my eardrops.  i did not have an original prescription as it was on the outer box and not on the little vial that I had.  Also, they were just throwing away all things liquid.  Oh well, I guess I can get a new one on Monday If we ever made it back to Tampa.  The morbid part of me was thinking that if the terrorists were able to blow up the plane, then the pain in my ear would be the least of my problems.  I began to get a rash on the inside of my elbows and in the back of my knees.  It looked like a diaper rash and hurt like hell. I bought some salve but once again could not use it once we were ready to board.

We did get on the plane and Virgin Atlantic did everything they could to make us comfortable.  They gave us travel bags with a toothbrush and paste, socks and an eyemask.  We had to leave the toothpaste behind but were able to take everything else with us.

They did not charge for most alcohol or any movies for the enitre flight.  Too bad I only drink mimosas.  The movie selection was good and we each had our own screen.  I kept flipping to Fox News for updates. Big mistake, no make that a HUGE mistake.  They were talking about how they thought the plane would blow if a bomb had been able to make it on board.  They thought that the plane may blow over Boston on NYC so there would be a ton of collateral damage.  Very comforting for those of us sitting on board, but it was like a car wreck.  It keep pulling me back to the story, tormenting me and spinning my mind out of control.  Time for another xanax.  Screw that, I took 2.

Made it safely on to the runway and taxied up to the gate.  Most everyone on board was emotional, very drained and pale.  Quite a few people had tears flowing silently down their faces. I belonged to that group.  We stepped off the plane and came face-to-face with about fifty of sixty armed forces lining the walkway on each side. They had machine guns pointed at us and at that point I thought I was going to loose it.  We just walked by to try and find a flight home to Tampa.  No sooner had we landed and our cell phones were ringing.  My sister, my father-in law, my best friend Sam. They had all been watching the landing of our plane on TV.  I was honestly too stressed to say anything more that we were home safe so far.  We were not aware that US flights were taking the same precautions with no carryons and no liquids.  We boarded our flight to Tampa and a young Asian gentleman sat beside me.  He was feverish and turned the tv monior on so he could put his head on it to keep warm. This was definately God punishing me because during the exact same days that we were in Europe, my friend Phil was in Vietman and I told him not to catch the bird flu and bring it back to me.

We slept all of the next day and woke up stiff and sore.  We had to do some laundry as we were going back to work the next day.  As the work day went on, my right eye started leaking clear fluid.  I thought it strange, but was trying to get back in the flow of my job and not pay too much attention to it. By five pm, my eye was oozing green mucus.  I had pink eye for the very first time in my life so I went to the walk in clinic and told not to go to work for three days.  It did not get better so I went to my own doctor who took a look at my eye, my ear ache and the rashes. He told me I had something very bad, some sort of strep infection and I had to stay home for 2 weeks.  Bonus, I thought. Now I can sleep.

That was just the beginning of my medical problems and I believe that they all started from there.  I had many sinus infections that led to surgery this past Jan, I was diagnosed with diabetis (which is under excellent control now, due to my wonderful MD) many panic attacks and stress related exhaustion.  Going back to work has been delayed as in Nov I got Shingles on my face of all places and was left with a residual nerve pain damage from my nose to my left ear. Yeah, I get to put a heatset on and try to destroy what hearing I have left in this ear.

Well,  wish me luck on Tuesday.  I’ll get back to you on how it went.

I have no moral to this story, but thanks for letting me vent.

Are any of my fellow travellers short like me? I mean, really short. I even had my mom lie on my passport to make me 5 feet tall. I have been 5 feet nothing since 8th grade, but since that is well above average for the females in my family (and just as tall as quite a few of the males) I should have realized that this was it. I should have learned to walk in heels, but thats just not me. I’m just not a girly-girl. I mean, I like to look nice and everything, but I do believe that beauty does have a price that sometimes I’m just not willing to pay. So with that, when I’m on vacation all I need are my tevas and I’m ready to go.

In January 1999 my husband Michael (who is just over 6 feet tall) took a vacation to the Bahamas to one of the Sandals Resorts. It was very nice, but as the island is so v ery safe we decided to walk along Cable Beach  road into town.  We were walking around just looking at all the sights, and looking for Grey Cliff Hotel for afternoon tea and a nice hand rolled cigar for Michael.  We also took a sight-seeing tour in a horse drawn carriage. Now that was a little scary. Later in the afternoon we took a water taxi over to Paradise Island. We were offered some weed a few times and while flattered that at my age someone actually thought I was still cool enough to embibe, we did turn down all offers.

We get back to the downtown area well before dark, but decide to take a taxi back to the resort.  As we are walking around I suddenly find myself sitting on my butt in the middle of the side walk.  Damn, I thought. Who smacked me down?  I looked up to see my husband of slightly less than a year trying so hard not to laugh that I thought he was going to need a change of underwear. I get up and realize that I am awfully close to a tree. A tree! Why the heck was a tree growing in the middle of the sidewalk. And why had I not seen it? Most importantly, did any one else see me?  There was no answer that would soothe both my ego and my head.  Apparantly I had been so absorbed in what was going on around me that I had failed to recognize that tall leafy thing with a rough bark as a tree that wasn’t moving out of my way.  Oh well, first time for everything …. public humiliation, bruise on head, etc.

Fast foward 7 months to August.  My in-laws have a summer home on Martha’s Vineyard and all the kids come out for a week or so for our annual family vacation. Its nice and peaceful there. No chain restaraunts, not much traffic and a beautiful beach.  It was my first time there so my husband took me into town to check out the stores.  We did all the tourist stuff like the Black Dog Cafe, obviously leaving behind a hefty balance on our credit card with two of everything (rain jackets, sweatshirts, tee-shirts). After unloading the purchases into our snazzy new Tracker convertible we continued to window shop. I saw a purse that I wanted to take a close look at so we went into one of the tiny boutiques on main st.  I was turning around to take the purse up to the register when the all too familiar feeling came over me again.  Now why is there a tree inside this store? Of all the hundreds of stores on this island, why did the one (I repeat, the one) store I go into have a great tree in the middle of it.  I took a deep breath, opened my eyes and prepared for another public humiliation.  What I saw astounded me. I was staring at some guys navel. His navel? He must be at least six and a half feet tall.  I felt him draw in his breath, and thought ” a good offense is a good defense.” As I prepared to tell this giant man that not everyone is almost a hundred feet tall, I looked up. My jaw froze and the words “Oh my God, you’re Ted Danson” popped out of my mouth.  My humiliated husband apologized to Mr. Danson and dragged his humiliated wife out of the store.  I didn’t even get my purse. It really was Ted Danson and I really had suffered another public embarassment.

As I said, all things tall and small.

I was sitting by our pool in Connecticut and reading Frommer’s Budget Travel Magazine when I spotted an ad for an all-inclusive resort in Punta Cana, Domincan Republic.  It was mid summer of 2000 and I was scoping out somewhere for our usual October vacation.  We had already been to Haiti and knew that the island was beautiful, and the resort (The Melia Caribe-Tropical) was running a great special to entice American travel as most of their fall vacationers were European with few American visitors. So, I called Liberty Travel and booked the trip for that October

That weekend I ran down to the office and picked up our tickets and travel itinerary.  In our family, due to the fact that there are so many of us traveling in different directions at the same time (my husband’s uncle owns an operates an incentive travel business that takes him and other family members all across the globe) that we just e-mail our itineraries to each other so everyone knows where everyone is.  As I as scanning the itinerary into the computer I noticed a small but slightly disturbing fact about the third leg of the trip.  As usual, we would be flying from Bradley International Airport in Connecticut. The first leg would take us to Miami, and from there to San Juan, Puerto Rico. So far so good… regular American Airlines jets. Third leg from San Juan to Punta Cana was also American Airlines but followed by the word “express”.   Probably no big deal but decided to run it by my husband Michael. He told me I had booked us on a turbo plane for that leg of the trip.  I thought he was just messing with me as he knew I was deathly afraid of flying on any small aircraft. Really funny, but I wasn’t going to fall for that this time.  A long time ago, my sister had flown from Bradley to Wilkes-Barre, PA for a wedding on a turbo prop and refused to fly home. My dad had to go get her so I thought, not funny but it won’t happen to me.

Guess what.  We we sitting in the Airport in  San Juan and our flight was called.  We had all our luggage as we had to go through customs and immigration.  A bus pulled up and we all got on. They drove us across the  tarmac and lo and behold, stopped right before a small plane that could not possible hold more that 40 people.  As we got on, my knees were knocking, I was breaking into  sweats, both hot and cold and gave my husband “the look.”  I guess he had been telling me the truth all along. So, no alcohol available, just had to climb on board and make the best of it.  As the plane took off, the noise inside was incredible.  I just hoped that if we had to jump overboard that the water would at least be warm. We were flying at a pretty low altitude and able to see people on their boats and on the beaches.  As we approached the airport, I had become transfixed with the colors of the Caribbean and had almost forgotten that I was at the brink of my virtual death. Suddenly, out of the blue I saw the most beauiful sight. The airport. Yes, the airport. At first I didn’t think it was the airport as all we could see was the thatched roof. We landed and walked towards the building with a thatched roof and no exterior walls. It was as beautiful inside as out, with local art and people who were so friendly and happ to help.

Moral of this diatribe? Just get on the plane and don’t miss whats waiting for you on the other side. Experience life.

A little about us:

We, along with another co-worker, were working for a fortune 100 company, not seeing a very bright future. Together we scratched together every last nickel and dime we could find and bought into a very exciting travel based e-business called CRUISETOCASH. This business gives us the ability to work from home, set our own hours and offer fantastic travel specials. One of our many goals is to be able to offer other people the same opportunities.

Things have started slowly, but we have been able to offer our friends travel certificates for stays in places like Key West, Jamacia and Miami where they have to pay almost next to nothing and it cost us nothing over our intial investment. You should have sceene their faces.

If you want to hear more about this business let us know by email us at thomsonthomsontedescoholdings@verizon.net