All Around My Island

When the wheels finally touched down last Sunday, I was equally filled with elation and exhaustion. Our voyage had been far from fantastic and we found ourselves infinitely relieved to be home (a first since neither of us our fond of our current location). It all began last Tuesday morning when we arrived at the airport; after working our way through security we discovered that our plane was delayed, then delayed again, and finally delayed a third time courtesy of the San Francisco weather. Three and a half hours later, after rebooking our connecting flight, we were finally off.

Once in the air, the flight was bumpy to say the least, and my husband has jumbo-sized anxiety when buckled into a vehicle that can leave the ground. While trying to curb my own nausea and apprehension I did my best to bring comfort to the portion of my heart inhabiting the seat to my right. Unfortunately, the bouncing failed to cease during the entire journey and we were even given the thrill of rocking left to right as we descended.

Having safely made it half way to our destination we prepared to dash to the next gate in order to make our connection. However, the same weather that had delayed us previously was planning an encore and we were grounded for another three hours. We grabbed some food, browsed some shops, and almost died of boredom in the oh so comfortable terminal chairs before we were finally allowed to board our second flight. Almost thirteen hours after departing from our home, we reached our final target at last. Little did we know the bumps were far from over …

Our first night was quite uncomfortable thanks to an air conditioner that was unwilling to budge below eighty degrees. The virtually sleepless night was followed by the first long hectic day of many. We were in Las Vegas to assist my husband’s company with their annual conference, and we had no idea the circus we’d signed up for. Being a creature of organization (and slight OCD) the disorder in which things were arranged felt like a constant twitch within my mind, and we were elbow deep in the chaos from 7am to 11pm. Who knew grown adults couldn’t follow signs or meet a shuttle without someone with a “staff” nametag confirming the obvious?

After enduring five sixteen hour days in a row of being run ragged, and having to scavenge the massive hotel for drinkable water and decently healthy food, we were in the home stretch. Although the trip was very far from a vacation, I must admit there were a few good moments. The Beatles Love Show by Cirque du Soliel was fantastic and we loved touring the Hoover Dam (yes, we love educational attractions). Nonetheless, when we set off at four in the morning to return home neither of us could have been more relieved. In six days it became quiet evident that what happens in Vegas can certainly stay there because I sure don’t want it following me home.