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Home Again Holiday Endings

March 21, 2012 by

My rolling storm front

The last day of any vacation, especially those vacations when I am leaving the Bahamas are supposed to end with rain. It is a tradition in my mind. I am not at all certain this is how every trip to the Bahamas, or for that matter any Caribbean island vacation ends, but in my mind it is how they should end. Rain and clouds, gray skies and chill winds should see me off the island and in this way I am not so reluctant to return to the mundane of real life.

I am packing bags now, looking out my picture window to the turquoise waters past the break and wondering where that rain cloud is. This is my last day and though the wind blowing across the sands below, the palms fronds are clapping and bending to the west, as yet there is no sign of my desired rain to see me off the islands. Dammit, how can I leave happily without the rain to send me off?

www.bahamasforvistors.com

Courtesy of Bahamas for Visitors

Last night we enjoyed another of our traditions, dinner at the Poop Deck a ‘famous’ Nassau restaurant with spectacular views of the Nassau Marina where everything from small fishing boats to grand yachts dock. The Poop Deck has been in the same location since 1972 serving local cuisine including Bahamian Spiny Lobster, Grouper, different types of Snapper and of course Conch. The Poop Deck is never a disappointment; we never miss our traditional dinner during a trip to Nassau. I will admit there are times I would wish it wasn’t quite so loud, quite so crowded but no matter the day or time we pick to enjoy our meal, well it is always the same. Tables are jammed closely together and you can’t help but hear what the table behind you is discussing. Of course with the Marina directly outside, if there are children nearby they will be undoubtedly bounce on their plastic chairs, point and screech (oh my bleeding ears). I love the Poop Deck, but admittedly it is difficult to have a real conversation beyond, “what do you want to drink?”

Today we return to our real lives. This isn’t an entirely bad thing in all honesty, after some time on holiday I tend to grow bored. Inactivity, lack of access to friends, even the limit of access to news sources, all lend themselves to my readiness to return to real life after a time. I think I   am not really great at enforced idleness, even when I volunteer for it by planning a holiday. While I might be somewhat sedentary due to physical limitations, I am not intellectually indolent needing constant stimulation for my happiness.

Real life, what does that mean? Is it just infrastructure and access or something more? Here are some things I must identify as part of my internal angst and why after seven days I am grow ready to return home, despite my love of The Bahamas.

www.thebahamian.com

One Way, I might be successful at this

  • They drive on the wrong side of the road and I have yet to learn how to shift to the Left, this creates a dependency I am unused to and distinctly dislike.
  • Only one real source of news, I am a news and political junkie so the lack affects me after a time. In fact the lack causes me withdrawal symptoms similar to those of a Heroin addict. It is beyond the official news outlets though to simply having some of my friends and family members to talk to about observations.
  • Food, as much as I love the food of the Bahamas there is so much of it that is fried and I find I am not tolerant of this as a steady diet any longer.
  • Finally, I find the changes currently underway in my favorite place in the world to be disconcerting. I don’t know what to make of what is taking place across New Providence today. In many ways I find the current Bahamian government has taken a page out of the GOP page book, sold the people and nation to the highest bidder (China) where only those in power are thus far benefiting.
www.travellanguist.com

Who wouldn't love pink?

Ah well, there are likely other things I am no longer as tolerant of that once upon a time did not faze me. The truth is I love the downtime, perhaps just not seven days of downtime. Perhaps as my dearly beloved says to me, learn to drive! Perhaps on the next trip, but then not learning to drive keeps everyone else safe. There are so many things I love about Nassau, what is not to love about a country that paints their government buildings Pink.

The clouds are rolling in now, perhaps it will start to rain soon and my departure from one of my favorite places in the world will be as it should be, cloudy and slightly cool. I will not be near so unhappy at leaving the island paradise that is Nassau, Spring Breakers notwithstanding.

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Love the Bahamas

March 19, 2012 by

Junkanoo Dancers

Day four of eight days of sun, beach and yes family. Actually it is six days of island sun and two days of ridiculous travel. By this count it is still the beginning of day four and it is a beautiful day, the clouds are lovely, white and fluffy; the sky is blue above them and the water is that perfect Azure Blue out to the reef break. What more could I ask for?

Let me say what I love about The Bahamas, about Nassau its capital. I have been coming here since my twenties; my first trip with a group of girlfriends for a long weekend of sun, fruity rum drinks with paper umbrellas we rarely left the resort and had a wonderful time. My next trip was a day trip was part of a cruise taken with a group of friends from the neighborhood; Nassau was one of the stops. I think this is when I really begin my love affair with the island. From this time on I begin to take somewhat regular trips, sometimes with friends other times alone simply to take a rest. Always I saw a little more and always I fell a little more in love. So what do I love? I love the people. They are smart, funny, engaging and engaged. In many cases the people I have met both casually and those I have come to know in a more intimate sense have the same issues and concerns we have in the US, they seek the same opportunities we seek. Because their nation is so much smaller the outcomes of decisions are felt more immediately and thus they can’t hide from the actions of their government. Of course their relationship with the US is interesting, better than 60% of their economy is tied to Tourism and thus to our economy. They watch us, our systems and actions in dismay I think as we struggle through some of or political idiocy.

Anglican Church Drummers
Marching Band

I have a love/hate relationship with some cultural aspects of the Bahamas. There is a strong underlying moral nature to the Bahamian people, with 95% of Bahamians identifying themselves as practicing Christians predominately Protestant; the highest membership being Baptist, but with large populations in some of the Pentecostal and  Charismatic churches. This of course creates some underlying issues for those of us with a more liberal bent; there are several issues including civil rights for the LBGT community, Choice for Women and overall Poverty that continues to be a plague most across the island nation.

Junkanoo Brass

I love the music, different from that of Jamaica the Bahamian music is somehow more joyful and more accessible. I hear Bahamian Calypso, Soca and the Rake n’ Scrape of Junkanoo and immediately my body moves to the sounds, my heart soars a bit and I always smile. There is something absolutely infectious, difficult to ignore when you hear the sounds of Bahamian music your hips move to the sinuous sounds and rhythms, winding through your soul. Walking down Bay Street, the main downtown street for shopping music subtly streams from every store you can’t avoid the sounds. From the restaurants and bars above Bay Street Soca and Calypso blasts, your feet move in rhythm without your conscious effort.

Finally and not to be ignored is the food. I love Bahamian food, first how can you ignore the fact this island nation has access to fresh seafood, Grouper, Conch, Snapper and Spiny Lobster cooked a variety of ways and served from breakfast to late night dinners. Stew Fish, Fried Conch or Conch Salad all choices not to be missed, all served with a bit of Bahamian Bird Pepper and a squeeze of Lime. Then there is my absolute favorite breakfast, one I send my husband out for every single morning possible, Chicken Souse a protein rich broth made up of Lime juice, Allspice, celery, carrots and the all-important Bird Pepper (my husband likes Sheep’s Tongue Souse). Not to be missed are the native deserts, Guava Duff is just one of these. Finally, of course if you are interested in the alcohol drinks available these are all the normal drinks available fruity concoctions made with rum, there is one though native to the Bahamas most tourists miss, that is Sky Juice a drink in my opinion every person should try at least once.

Courtesy Uncommon Caribbean

SKY JUICE: Heavy on the Gin, Sweetened Milk, Coconut Water. Mixed in large batches for the day and served primarily down at Arawak Cay. This treat should not be missed! Never mind the froufrou drinks served in all the traps, the Bahamas’ Mama’s and Daiquiri’s these you can get anywhere even in the US, take a trip to Arawak Cay for fresh made Conch Salad and a cup of Sky Juice.

I love the Bahamas; I love the color of the island. The colors of the homes painted all hues from the artists’ palette from pastels to bright’ taken from nature. I love the sea the perfect blends of turquoises to azures and even the pale greens. I love the sounds of the ocean, the music drifting up from the pool somehow blending perfectly with the waves. New Providence, the main island where Nassau is located is undergoing major changes right now. I was stunned by the changes having not been back for nearly two years. This small island nation is undergoing major changes right now, trying to upgrade infrastructure and partnering with other nations to fund those upgrades. I wonder will the Bahamas lose what makes it truly unique and wonderful, will Nassau lose the history, culture and beauty that makes it spectacular and gives it a flavor all its own? I for one hope not.

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Vacation, Why

March 17, 2012 by

Holiday, many of us take one a year and spend a not insignificant amount of our hard earned cash to enjoy some time away from our everyday lives. I am no different, though my husband and I tend to have a couple of favorites and we stick to them. We both like Caribbean Islands, the ocean, the sun and breezes from the sea.

Vacation…time away from the mundane, the daily drag of life, you can’t wait for the first day despite knowing you still have to get through airport security and porn x-ray machines. Crowded airplanes full of families with children struggling with far too many over-packed carry-on bags. If you travel out of country you will need to traverse Immigration, with Passport in hand queuing up to await you turn up to 30 minutes, if your luck though it will be far less.

Astonishingly, it seems no matter how long you might have waited at Immigration when you arrive at Luggage Claim, your bags will not have started on the round yet. What you find instead is courtesy of Bleacher Reportnotification your luggage will be arriving at Claim number X, all your plane mates will have their children lined up at the front of the claim like the Defensive Line of the New York Jets; keeping this blocking line does not a bit of good, bags come down when they come down, if your bags come first you must either knock them down to reach your bags or wait for them to leave. Your choice, I choose to politely ask once for them to MOVE and then mow them down.

Before you can finally exit the airport and begin your well-earned holiday the last obstacle is Customs, if you are lucky you look innocuous and touristy enough for you and your bags to pass through without much more more than a cursory question and answer regarding the contents of your bags and your purpose, with the right answer and a lack of shiftiness on your part they will pass you through to your well-earned and much anticipated holiday. Well, this might not be entirely true if you rented a car you might still have a wait. Not necessarily a wait in line, just a wait while your car is located and you are then transported to wherever your rental car might be off or on airport grounds.

Finally though the true holiday begins, bags are flung into the rental car and you are on your way. So why then are we usually somewhat disappointed by what we find upon arrival?

Lumpy beds, too soft or too hard pillows, bathtub / shower combinations with plastic shower curtains that chase you around the shower sticking to your wet  body, towels that feel as if they are made of Luffa and sheets that feel as if they are in fact fine grained sandpaper. Those are just the beginning of the disappointments. Disappointments you always forget when the holiday is over. Unless the hotel is truly ghastly you forget the truth of the room and amenities that did not live up to the trailer provided by the hotel that convinced you to pre-pay for that miniscule discount you received for doing so.

Did I forget to mention if you travel to resort areas this time of year you will also face the dread Spring Breakers? Oh yeah, this is my favorite. Barely out of diapers and out of their parents supervision, wandering the hallways and beaches drinks in hand and generally bad behavior close to the surface, Spring Breakers. Wandering out of elevators where they have lit up their first cigar, thanks. Spring Breakers, who failed to understand yet the idea clothing, even bathing suits are intended to cover our most private parts from public consumption, public exposure while certainly good for tan line control leaves you open; yes really open. By the way did I mention most of you young women have put on that Freshmen 15 and should likely considered something a bit less revealing or at least a trip to WalMart for a larger size before Spring Break.

These were just my general observations. First day observations at that. Yes, we are on vacation, some place I love in fact, Bahamas, yes that is where we are this week. For seven hopefully sun soaked days we will sit on the beach, visit with family, eat wonderful foods straight from the sea and possibly do a bit of shopping.

We are at the same hotel we stay at most times we travel here; the same hotel we met at nearly 15 years ago. We know what we get here; there are rarely surprises for us. I think though we forget the things we don’t like in favor of the reasons we stay, the tradeoff’s.  We like this part of the island, we like the convenience and the beach. I like having a deck where I can enjoy the view of the ocean, my morning coffee and a cigarette without disturbing my non-smoking husband. Works well for us and I enjoy sitting outside listening to the waves, watching people on the beach and huge ocean liners coming in to dock for the day.

Before the week is out I will share some of the reasons I love it here, probably some other caustic observations.

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Flying with Children

January 17, 2012 by

I find myself sitting in airport lounge areas frequently. They are mostly the same, though some of the newer airports have upgraded their lounge areas with massage chairs, Wi-Fi, conversation nooks and other things to make the wait not quite so tedious. I don’t care about any of these things; give me a chair close to the boarding area with a view of those who I will be flying with, that is my only requirement. Sounds odd doesn’t it? I have my reasons.

Ill Mannered Imps and their Minders

Scanning the airport lounges allows me to identify the worst of the worst, out-of-control children. These children usually between the ages of four and ten who have failed to learn basic social skills. They scream, throw their toys, demand attention from their parents and strangers. They run through the lounge tripping over carry-on bags and even tripping other travelers as they attempt to navigate the terminal and the lounge. Their voices are akin to nails on blackboards as they screech their demands.

They are not angels. They are not sweet cherubs. They are YARD APES. Their parents often have that faraway look, one seen usually on soldiers returning from war or victims of crime. It is these imps of destruction that can and usually do ruin trips for at least those in their immediate vicinity on a plane. They kick the back of seats; they twist and turn, look over at their neighbors with ugly faces, talk to neighbors unceasingly, throw food and otherwise act in ways that prove children are born horrifyingly unmannered.

Worse than the children though are the parents who fail to take those urchins of the netherworld under control.

One of my favorites –

I had boarded the plane from Brussels to Houston, it’s a long trip but I had upgraded to first class and so I was looking forward to a somewhat pleasant flight. This was long before the time of beds in first class and better food. I was in seat 1A, bulkhead window. Suddenly, oh no my worst nightmare a woman sits down beside me with a small child, small as in approximately 18-months. Her husband takes the seat across the aisle. Thinking I was being kind, I offered him my seat so they could be together during the flight, no they said they had planned it this way so he could work during the flight without being disturbed. What?

The mother plans on holding her child throughout the nine hour flight, in the meantime the child is on the floor playing while the announcement to prepare for take-off is blaring. Flight attendants walk through the aisles not once, not twice but four times telling this mother to pick up her child so we can take off. Each time she does the child shrieks and the mother puts her back on the floor, finally I offer to hold her so she can look out the window, which solves the problem, she doesn’t shriek we take off and all is quiet in first class. Does mom offer to take the child back? Well no, in fact when drink service begins she and dad order drinks and start chatting while their infant calmly stays on my lap. I had to tap her on the shoulder and hand the bad baby back explaining that they made the decision to not buy a seat or bring a nanny with them, they had the responsibility to entertain and keep their child quiet and if it disrupted their travel, tough.

It was a miserable flight! Screaming, diaper changes and other disgusting disruptions (Dad wasn’t bothered though).

This is one of the reasons I firmly believe children under the age of fourteen do not belong in First Class, ever and under any circumstance.

I have many other stories of the misery of travel which I will share from time to time. Some are children in the air. Some are simply horrible airline service. Hope you will join me in my travels around the world.

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Tales from the Air

January 3, 2012 by

Farts on the Airplane

There is probably nothing worse than someone with uncontrollable gas in the tight confines of an airplane. Certainly they are embarrassed by their overactive digestive track and their own stupidity at eating foods that would cause their active flatulence.

Let me give some advice. There are some foods that lend themselves to greater amounts of flatulence than others. This is due to the types of sugars they contain, the body CANNOT effectively break these sugars down and thus they produce gas which travels to your nether regions ultimately producing noxious fumes. If you know you will be flying, do yourself and your fellow passengers a favor avoid these foods!

Beans, Cauliflower, Cabbage, Raisins, Milk (especially for those with lactose intolerances) and yes the all-important BEER.

Elbows and other Sharp Objects

I once had a man (not what you are thinking you are so dirty minded) seated next to me in those big comfy First Class Seats. This man must have seen that I was more blessed than the average woman with pair of breasts that might be the envy of a Playboy Centerfold. Perhaps in his fevered fantasy he believed this meant they were public property, since they took more space than was normal. Whatever the case may be, I once had a man and he had a plan.

Our flight to Dallas was looking to be a long one, with plenty of turbulence and stormy skies. I had already taken my seat, 1B aisle bulkhead left side of the plane. When he arrived he first glared at me, as if to say; “what are you doing in this section of the plane?” Admittedly, back then there were few women flying in First during what was considered the Friday specials, business flights back to Dallas on American. Add to this I was already in my standard Jeans, cowboy boots and tee. But then my Man with a Plan noticed my assets and his gears turned. He sat his happy self down, pulled out his Wall Street Journal leaned to the right, taking more than half our ample arm rest as his own, and ordered his Scotch and Soda before take-off. Then the fun begin……….

Turn page one, right hand grabs page turns and shakes landing squarely against the edge of my breast. I think nothing of it. A few minutes go by and time to turn the next page; oddly the exact same action produces the same result. “Excuse me, my breast isn’t public property and your attention isn’t welcome. Would you mind keeping your elbow on your side of the arm rest and your hands to yourself, please”, said as nice as possible and looking directly at the Man with the Plan. He smirked, moved slightly to the left and started reading again. A few more minutes pass (he reads slowly) and the same exact thing happens, fortunately the two gentlemen across the aisle see it this time, so when I turn and tapped him and said, ‘The next time you touch my breast I am going to break your ribs and it will be self-defense’, they concurred. Again he smirked and this time he didn’t move.

Five more minutes, he readies himself for another page turner and a free feel. I ready myself as well, I am watching for him how. He turns the page and this time takes a slow linger down the side of my left breast as if daring me to follow through with my threat. Boy did he challenge the wrong Texas girl, I pulled back my elbow and delivered a blow to his ribs that knocked the wind from his lungs and bent him over in his seat. When he could breathe again the first thing he did is push the call button and when he Flight Attendant arrived he demanded the police meet the plane in Dallas and arrest me for assault. She asked me what had occurred and I explained the situation. She asked the nice gentlemen across the aisle what they had seen and their story agreed with mine. She offered him a choice;

  1. She could have the police meet the plane and he would be arrested. I might be also, but it is likely the charges would be dropped against me.
  2. He could change seats with someone and forget the entire incident assuming I was willing to do so and someone was willing to change seats with him.

He took option two and the rest of the flight was quite pleasant. He called me a Bitch as he was moving his bags, I agreed.

Thus we have two tales of many of my time in the air. Farts on a plane, well that is on-going and frequent. Elbows that is a true story from about ten years ago.

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Flying in the Face of Sanity

December 30, 2011 by

Did I say that, mention sanity and flight in the same sentence. Could it be I have finally lost what little true lucidity I have left and crossed over into the land of la-la. This could be the case, but as I look at the end of another year of mileage and other sundry programs that award me for spending my life away from home I am forced to take stock.

It is important to understand what I do for a living; I am a consultant or as one of my favorite customers once said during a heated debate;

“Well Val, that is because you are a Conslutant”, at which point he grew beat red and

Mattel Archives

fumbled mightily for a way out of his Freudian Slip. Being the wonderful Conslutant that I am I gave him one, I smiled sweetly and said, “Why no George, I am not a Conslutant at all, you pay me very well for my services and thus I think there might be another name for what I am”. While the Steering Committee of the very proper southern State Board of Education stared mouths agape, both George and I burst out laughing and all was right with the world once again. Freudian Slips forgotten and the heated debate regarding the state of the project picked up where it left off.

Nevertheless, I am a Consultant, to be precise I am Project Manager big IT projects. I have been working in this capacity for twenty years. For the past five I have worked as an independent, meaning sometimes I get to pick my customers but most of the time I scramble for new contracts. The other thing this means is I spend a great deal of time in airports, airplanes and hotel rooms; that is away from home.

The Mile High Club

Get your mind out of the gutter it isn’t what you think! Those of us who spend a significant portion of our lives catching catnaps in the air belong to a unique club. We know the secrets of getting through long check in lines, security is a breeze and we generally don’t

Google Image - Minneapolis

stress when our flights are delayed. Why you ask? The answer is simple this is our life.

We make friends with the people at ticket counters we know their names, sometimes even the names of their children; we see them week after week. TSA agents greet us by name; we take the same flights week after week and are on the same schedules. Flight attendants know us and we continue conversations from the previous week with them, sharing war stories of our time in the air, bad passengers and the changes since the airline has cut back services.

How many miles can a single person fly? 3,722,902 – you read that right. Three million seven hundred twenty-two thousand nine hundred and two. Those are the approximate miles I have flown between four main airlines in the past twenty years. It is likely a bit more, but many miles have fallen through the cracks of bankruptcy, mergers and sundry other incidents of flying life. To be perfectly anal about this that works out to be five hundred and ten (510) miles per day every single day for twenty years.

The Road Less Traveled

Now of course I didn’t fly every day. Didn’t even fly every week. Most weeks but not every week. In fact there were entire years during this period where I actually I stayed in one place and was able to act just like a normal person, commuting to and from an office on a road rather than in an airplane, I found the experience far more stressful. When people ask how I can stand to fly every week I point out if they live and work in any metropolitan city in the US they likely spend up and hour or more each way in the car five days per week. They are subject to road rage, incautious drivers, traffic jams and many other terrible inconveniences. I on the other hand am met at the airport where my car is valet parked, I rarely stand in long lines, I always board the plane first, my commute consists of sitting back while others ‘drive’ and I catnap.

I don’t want to glamorize my commute, believe me there is nothing glamorous about it at all. Every privilege I have has been earned by bad food, rude seatmates, long layovers, delayed flights and being away from home.

I am starting this series here, more to come on Flying in the Face of Sanity.

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