I know. Worse places to be stranded. Yada Yada Yada. But for those that know us for less than five minutes know our less than stellar luck with air travel. Or any travel for that matter. Why we keep putting ourselves in this situation is just beyond me. I obviously was desperate for some umbrella drinks and cabana boys.
And no, mom and dad, we didn’t have sex on the beach. It’s a drink. Promise.
So hubby wanted to whisk me away to the beaches of Playa Del Carmen to lessen the pain of turning 40. He’s a pretty sweet guy.
And I was rarin’ to go and do absolutely nothing but eat, drink and sleep. And sleep.
But first, we had to get there. Easier said than done.
For a quick recap of our epic travel disasters…here’s a few oldies but goodies.
And before I could get to that sleep part – we had to catch a 6 a.m. flight. And for my overly anal husband, that means get to the airport at 4. Which means we get up at 3. And because I was so paranoid about oversleeping so I could get to the beach and sleep some more – I didn’t sleep. At all.
Headed to the airport without much of a hitch. Until we got to the ticket gate.
Apparently, there were no planes. At all. Really? This is an airport, people…what do you mean there are no planes?
It’s my birthday and I need to get to the beach STAT.
Apparently, American Airlines didn’t care about my birthday. Because there were still no planes. Until noon. Which means we wouldn’t get to Playa until that night which cut an entire day out of my plan to sleep. Yes, I had a breakdown. In front of the ticketing agent. (In my defense, I was going off 1 hour of sleep AND it was that time of the month…Happy Birthday to Me).
Fast forward – we finally got on a plane. After being harassed at the airport, a long shuttle ride and an hour wait in line to check in our resort – we were FINALLY in our room. We threw the suitcases down, grabbed our suits and were bound and determined to at least have one umbrella drink and catch the sunset on the beach.
Not so fast. I walk out the bathroom and notice a huge puddle of water. That was getting bigger. I walk into our living room – and it is FLOODED. I am so not kidding. I JUST WANTED TO GO TO THE BEACH. AND SLEEP. AND HAVE A DAMN PINA COLADA. Yes, our neighbor fell asleep in his jacuzzi tub. And forgot to turn it off. His room was far worse than ours…think undies floating down the hall…and they weren’t cute ones either.
By this time, it is evening. We’ve missed the entire day and are so sleepy we can hardly stand up. But we still head to the pool for a quick drink. And a not so quick trip to the bathroom. I somehow got lost. And our resort is huge – like bigger than my hometown. It took me 30 minutes to find Shane again. And he was NOT happy – as he has decided I’ve been kidnapped by the natives and is on his way to call security. Let’s just say it was time to call it a night.
The rest of our trip was blissfully uneventful. I read three books, slept and drank. That is all.
Then it was time to come home.
Okay. This is just not even funny anymore. So I’ll just give you the highlights.
Arrive at airport 3 hours early. Yay us!
Flight is delayed, which is a good thing, because it took us 2 hours to get through the ticketing line.
Go through Immigration and Customs….sit down to eat dinner….FLIGHT IS CANCELLED. Until the next day. And our phones don’t work in Mexico.
Go BACK through Immigration and Customs…spend $100 in phone calls to the army taking care of our children…another $100 trying to get back to the resort (after being at the airport for 7 hours). Airlines tell us to call to rebook our flight. Are you kidding me? Another $100 in calls to the airlines. Another long shuttle ride back to the resort to our room which is now being inhabited by my brother and sis-in-law. SURPRISE! So much for their romantic night. Sleep on the couch. STart all over the next day.
Made it to Dallas – YAY! Again, not so fast. Plane delayed again. And again. And again. By this time we are almost postal. Good thing Shane had the foresight to take my brass knuckles off my key chain – because I think I would have used them.
Then that would be a whole ‘nother story. Mexican prison. Would probably make for a good reality TV show.