Sooo…remember
how I described my family’s recent trip to Belize as the most “wild and remote”
we’d ever taken? Well, I think it’s safe to say that I officially reached the Travel Tolerance Level of the two
youngest members of Team WestEnders. By the end of the week, it seemed to be a
combination of factors that played into their…discomfort. For example, the early morning wake-ups for excursions.
Not to mention, the rich restaurant fare
for every meal—which probably also contributed to each of them experiencing
unfortunate…”tummy troubles” the last
few days of our vacation.
I, of course,
felt nothing but sympathy for them while they were under-the-weather, but it
was still amusing to hear them rhapsodize about what they were going to snack
on when they had recovered, and returned to their usual routine in the good old
U.S. of A. You might wonder what they missed
while they were temporarily living in a fabulous
resort with world-class cuisine? “Squeezy tubes of applesauce”…milk
flavored with chocolate Nesquik powder…Nature Valley protein bars…and (my
favorite example) “packaged ham with Velveeta cheddar slices on white bread”!
Derek actually was heard
to utter the words, “Mmmm…processed food!”
when asked what he was looking forward to eating. (Oy. They really DO eat very
healthy at home, I swear. I guess
it’s just not as easy to get all poetic and whatnot about their nightly dinner salad and several-times-a-day fruit servings…)
I think he
also summed it up best for me when he solemnly declared, “Mom, we’re really
more…buffet guys…than we are cut out
for fine dining.” (Oh, you mean like
the last two all-inclusives we’ve visited? Duly noted, son. Memo to me: dial it
back on the “swanky” factor next time we choose an international location. Exotic locale? YES! Fancy food? Clearly a big “No, thank you!”)
We got a
crystal clear indication that it was indeed time to go home when Derek turned
to me on the last evening and declared, “I’ve had enough of this…eco-friendly
DEATH TRAP!” Oh-kaaaay, that might have been a wee bit dramatic, but I took it with a grain of salt. After all, we
were facing another 5-leg, 10-hour
travel day before we’d finally be back at our own house. The odyssey began at 9
a.m., when we settled into the resort’s van
for the ride to the airstrip. We then
boarded the 10-seater plane that
would take us to the Belize City airport,
where we’d eventually catch our Southwest flight back to the States.
And this is
where the whole journey began to slowly slide off the rails. We checked in at
the counter, to get our boarding passes. Then we showed our passports and forms
a second time, to be allowed into the Security line…which was super-long…so an
airport…guy…directed half of the queue to walk a few hundred yards to
another…eerily similar…line. Security involved the typical stuff and
nonsense—shoes off, purses/laptops/phones/cameras/liquids in buckets, suitcases
on the belt.
We already
knew we were facing a 2-hour wait…which
was then increased by an added half-hour delay
in our takeoff time. To give you a picture of the delightful environment in
which we’d be spending our…Bonus Travel
Time…Derek, looking around critically, suddenly exclaimed, “Hey, Mom—this
place is no bigger than…a Sheetz!”
And tragically...he was so very right.
However, a Sheetz—or for that matter ANY well-stocked convenience store, would
have offered so much more in terms of
“amenities” than the tiny Belizean outpost. We managed to scare up some
Gatorades, sodas, pretzels, and trail mix to tide us over until we’d hopefully
be able to forage with more success in Ft.
Lauderdale. At the appointed time (finally) we endured a chaotic boarding mess to be herded onto
our packed plane, where none of us
was able to sit together, and the lady next to me overflowed the armrest into
my minuscule amount of personal space. Yippee!
The upshot of
all this was that, by the time we landed in Florida, we had less than an hour
to catch our connecting flight. Shouldn’t be a problem, right? Except the backup
at the self-service kiosks (the only
option, by the way) at Customs…and
then the next traffic jam to show our
passports and forms to actual agents.
And then, wait—we have to go through Security
AGAIN? Somehow we’d forgotten that we had to complete this obnoxious extra
step, so Husband and I had filled our souvenir
water bottles from the resort, to bring with us on the next flight.
Of course,
these showed up on the scanners and got pulled out for inspection…and the only
choices they gave us were to throw them in the garbage or leave the area,
empty them out, and GO BACK THROUGH
THE FREAKIN’ LINE. Since it was now 10 minutes until our plane was scheduled to
take off (not board, mind you, which
had already happened, but actually “leave
the ground”) we told them to shove
the bottles...I mean “dispose of them”
and let us proceed on our (not at all merry,
to put it mildly) way.
As we
sprinted to the gate, I heard Derek proclaiming emphatically, “I am Never. Leaving. the U.S. Again!”
“That’s fine,” I breezily retorted, “Next Summer’s our domestic year, anyway!” To which he responded, even more firmly,
“Nope. We’re done. No airplanes. We may not even leave the
HOUSE!” Honestly, at that moment, dragging our luggage at breakneck pace
through crowds of people, frantically trying to catch a plane that had probably
already left us behind, without having been able to obtain more snacks or
drinks…I really couldn’t fault him for this sentiment. (BUT…they held the flight—hallelujah! And we
weren’t even the last ones on, by a long shot! Maybe just the most out-of-breath…but hey, if Airport Olympics ever becomes a thing, Team
WestEnders has a fabulous head-start on training…)
Wouldn’t you
know it: we then had to sit around while being cleared for departure, since
there were other planes ahead of us on the runway. But this one wasn’t a full plane, so I actually had
an empty seat in between me and the
lady by the window…for her tiny dog
to occupy. Whatever—the canine was completely silent and no bother at all
during the entire flight….and I wasn’t forced to sit with my elbows squashed to
my sides, so I’ll take it! From there, it was a brief walk to the parking lot to retrieve the Subaru, followed by a
short drive to Casa WestEnders…where
we all collapsed gratefully…after raiding
the fridge, of course! (Trust me, it had been a looooong time since “munchies
in Belize”!)
It was a
trying, troublesome travel day, to be sure…but despite Derek’s protestations,
once the fatigue wears off, we’ll be
left with awesome memories of hiking in the rainforest, snorkeling the reef,
enjoying the ocean, experiencing a one-of-a-kind beachside resort…and for some
of us, even savoring delicious meals. And now, we can get back into our daily
lives and habits…and start dreaming of next
year’s (much less “out there”) adventure!
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