I escaped town this past weekend, taking a last gasp of summer break from this area and departing to the beach for a bit of much-needed serenity. Unfortunately, while attempting to get to my destination, there was a big accident involving a fatality in one of the crucial tunnels that I needed to traverse in order to reach my destination.
Following the suggestion of the blinking construction signs, I took the detour to another tunnel and bridge combo that would take me 45 minutes out of my way, but at least I wouldn’t be sitting in front of a tunnel that wasn’t ever going to clear. I dove off to the side and jubilantly proceeded on my way, determined to go twice as fast to make up for the 45 minute detour. Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea and before long, there was another accident, although this one was on the highway just past the alternate tunnel, so it was much easier to get around, luckily for selfish me and my goal of reaching my destination sometime that night.
Eventually, I managed to wiggle around the accident, deciphered the teeny tiny road signs to try to work my way eastward and more importantly, beachward. I pulled over, uncertain about the road I was on. After digging through my collection of road maps, I managed to find one that featured my great state and decided that yes, I was going the right way. All too soon, I was going through another tunnel, although this one didn’t keep my radio station playing, like the one I’d been through earlier.
I came out of the tunnel to a little sign that I almost missed saying “Beaches” ¼ mile-right exit … I had to cut across three lanes of traffic just out of a tunnel. Maniacal me. I made it though. Then I wasn’t sure if I was on the correct road again, so I got off on an exit, to turn around and go back. Luckily, the road sign for “Beaches” pointed back up the ramp in the direction I was going, so I zoomed right back on the big road with hardly a slow-down. Not too bad. I could still see me reaching my destination before this Sharondarella dropped from exhaustion, but it was getting close.
Suddenly, I was forced to make a choice … go to the right and towards what sounds like beach cities, or go to the left and towards a city I knew was back to the west. In the end, against my left-handers judgment, I went to the right. Not 100 feet along the road and I realized I had made the wrong choice. Unfortunately, there was now a divider between the two roads, no turn off’s and backing up was not an option. I pulled over for a moment and thought about my choices. In the end, pending exhaustion helped me make my decision. I waited for a small clearing in the traffic, gunned my engine and ran my truck right over and through the median. God, I love a truck! Do that in your little car and see what happens! ;D
I felt pretty confident that the new transmission and the new shocks I had just had put in could handle this treatment, but I have to admit I held my breath for a moment. Only a moment, though, because my truck rocketed over and through and bounced right back up on the road, going in the right direction, on the correct road and towards the beach destination I needed.
Finally, I arrived at my hotel. I pulled up and noticed there was not a single parking place in the packed lot. I hoped this was because there was more parking somewhere for guests and this was the visitor’s lot, but I had a bad feeling.
I went inside and make quick work of checking in. Then I was told that parking was in several overflow lots. Guess which lot I ended up in at 12:30am? Yup, the furthest one. I had to schlep my bags through the streets, the eerily empty streets all the while feeling that creepy “I’m being watched feeling” of the paranoid individual (of which I am one.) Finally, I got to my room and without a single misadventure. I threw down my bags, found my pj’s and toiletries, then I climbed into the shower, and scrubbed away the travel stress. Feeling much refreshed, but also exhausted, I staggered out of the bathroom to that big, inviting bed. Before climbing in I could not resist a glimpse of the ocean.
There was a HUGE moon hanging low over the water. It lit up the sky and lightened the foam on the waves to a bright crisp snow white. The sound of the crashing waves was stupendous! I threw the sliding glass doors wide open and stood there breathing it in. I was not shutting those doors that night. I went in to bed and laid down so I could watch the waves, listening to the soothing sounds of the rhythmic pounding of the waves. I was asleep before I even knew what hit me.
I woke the next morning to the sound of gulls laughing and screeching outside my window, and light so bright I am still amazed I slept at all. I jumped out of bed and rushed through my morning rituals so I could get downstairs to begin my day’s adventures.
First things first: breakfast.
I went to the hotel restaurant and ordered French toast. It just sounded good. Luckily, it lived up to its reputation. As I was inhaling my breakfast, I noticed that a couple sitting at the next table were just sitting and staring vacantly, neither one exchanging a word or glance. I felt sorry for them. I can’t imagine being married and finding myself with nothing to say to my partner. Very sad.
The woman got up and disappeared for a few moments. One of the waiters came over and struck up a conversation with the man who was still there, vacantly staring.
“Are you having a good time on your vacation, Sir?”
“No!” he growled like a bear with a thorn in his paw.
“No? Why is that?”
“Because it took forever to get here last night. There was a back-up at the tunnel. Right after we got through there was someone killed. At least we got through that part."
“Yes, I heard that was bad. However, there is an alternate tunnel you can take. It will take you 45 minutes out of your way, but it’s better than sitting in a backup.”
“Well, I’m not from around here, so how am I supposed to know that?” This man was filled with venom. I could feel my French toast starting to curdle from all of his negativity. ;D
The poor waiter was nothing if not brave. He forged on gamely, nodding his head sympathetically. “I know, it can be confusing. I live here and I know I’d have some trouble finding that exit. However, now that you’re here I’m sure you’ll have a good time. Are you going to visit any of the museums or galleries while you’re here?”
“NO. My wife and I don’t really even want to stay here because we had such a bad time getting here last night.”
“But, sir, you can’t let that ruin your whole vacation! Are you here for the week or just this weekend?”
“Neither. We’re here until tomorrow.” Since today was Saturday and tomorrow was Sunday, I believe that would classify as a ‘we will be staying for the weekend’ answer. This man was a rocket scientist all right, as well as miserably unhappy.
“But we’re probably going to check out today because we’re miserable.” Yes, you certainly are …
“Oh, but you can’t blame the hotel for that! I’m sure you’ll have a great time today.” This guy was a regular Pollyanna. I didn’t think anything of the sort, but then again, I’m known for my pessimism. ;D
The woman returned and with visible relief the waiter excused himself and practically sprinted to the kitchen. The husband and wife shuffled away and I finished my breakfast in peace, thinking about their take on the situation, which was not unlike mine, since I'd had pretty much the same experience.
I thought the detours were part of the adventure. And unlike the unhappy twosome, I didn’t think complaining would make me happy, and it wouldn't make the stay any cheaper, because hotels don't comp you for bad traffic! So why be so negative? Goodness knows, I was trying to escape all of my complaining and whining, so I was definitely not planning to pack it in the bag I took with me to the beach! Consequently, I had a great time. and still view the happenings as a little adventure for me to blog about! :)
