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Memoirs: Vacations

by J.L. Potter

Created on: August 15, 2009

Like many people, the very first night of my very first vacation will be forever imprinted upon my memories. I assure you every word if this article is true.

Red-eye flight. Rush to the airport. Forgot the camera. Turbulence. Lost baggage. Too early to check in, and too late for lunch. Over-dressed, over-stressed, unkempt and under-slept. A disastrous beginning to a hard earned vacation for an exhausted, single, female student. I feel like crying but manage not to.

The baggage finally arrives (with a room key) at five o'clock, warranting an immediate trade of the sweat-suit for a sarong and bikini. A quick rifle through drawers and the mini-fridge earns a postcard and a Coca-Cola in a glass bottle. Check the bed for lumps, the bathroom for towels, and the closets for any treasures (like a luxurious robe). Now I can feel myself slowing down.

Absorbing the sights and sounds for the first time is magical. Palm trees sway in a salty breeze. Impossibly blue water is contrasted sharply by pearly white beaches. Various brightly colored lizards and birds compete for sunning spots on the balcony. Insects and frogs lay a base track to the classical music floating from the main foyer. Exploring the resort grounds and its many pools, spas, restaurants, and entertainment concludes with a tequila shot and margarita chaser at the swim-up bar. This is promptly followed by intense heartburn, the spins, and a brief nap on a pool-side lounge chair - but being woken up by a dreamy cabana-boy just before dusk insinuates it was not such a short nap after all.

I zip back to the room for a cold shower and wardrobe change, only to discover the makings of a serious sunburn are at hand. Finding aloe-Vera fast is the key to surviving the rest of this trip with only mild discomfort...now where did my wallet get to? A frantic rummage through luggage for traveler's cheques and shorts reveals several forgotten items - most notably toothbrush and shaving cream.

Finally achieving all these goals, my stomach now audibly indicates its neglect. I knock on the door of my traveling partner's suite and we discuss the seven possible dining options available at the resort. Deciding on dock-side seafood, my stomach (with a little help from the maitre d') leads the way to a table with a perfect view of the ocean. A perfect golden sunset spreads the last of its rich tones across the sand, and a pelican is perched at the end of the

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