I sleep like the dead (once I get earplugs in) and sleep until after 7am. Mom is already awake. Dad is already up and out.
He comes back at 7:30, concerned because our flight is tomorrow at 7:20 and it won’t let him check in. It takes a moment to realize our mistake: we are on Mountain time; Spokane is on Pacific. Continue reading “In which we cross to Spokane”→
We get up and ready in plenty of time for a bellman to help us get our belongings down three floors, check out, get breakfast, race down to get my mother’s accidentally packed tablet out of the car (ugh), and hop on our Red Bus Tour of Glacier.
We’re on the Grand Circle tour, looping the outer edges of the park to come down Going to the Sun Rd west to east. It will take all day, and we get a late start because two members of the group are no-shows. Continue reading “In which we take a Red Bus Tour”→
Our last day in Cuba is also our last full day on the cruise. Our excursion starts early – we are heading away from Havana and to the countryside to visit La Terrazas, which our hosts/tour guides describe as a program.
The flight is at 7:35. International: advice is to get there three hours ahead. 4:35pm. But my car has picked its moment to beg me to get rid of it and so between the unfamiliar rental car and the unfamiliar route to Dulles, I give myself plenty of time. I’d so rather be checked in, reading at my gate, than stressing about it. Continue reading “Day 1: Departure Iceland”→
The plan for my only full day here includes a walking tour of Old San Juan. I’m up early, knowing I will fight rush hour into the city on my way and not sure where I’ll find parking. As it turns out, there’s a paid lot just 2 blocks from the meeting point. I have time for a macchiato and a small pastry.
Puerto Rican coffee is so strong that it needs the doctoring. But it’s good.
Flavors of San Juan puts on a good tour, including an exploration of rum (and piña colada to start the day right). We sample a variety of local cuisines as we walk through the city. It rains in and off (and a magic jacket with bug spray makes me some new friends) as we cross cross the city. Afterward, I trek back to the far side to El Morro….
While the sky just absolutely opens over me.
Soaked to the skin and resembling a drowned rat, I nevertheless get a photo before trekking back again.
There’s a Christmas tree in the lobby of the hotel, decked out in white, and White Christmas playing softly in the background. Of course Christmas is Christmas, even in climates that stay consistently 80ish. To me it feels like I’ve stepped into summer, so the tree and music feel incongruous.
But whatever the weather, soon we celebrate the newborn King. Hallelujah.
It rains the kind of passing warm deluge that the tropics are known for in the brief window between my check in and my plan-making for tomorrow. I head out to get dinner and GPS says walking is more efficient.
It is, if you discount walking past a club that advertises cock fights. Ugh. Cruel much?
Still, a delicious mofongo de pollo later, I am thoroughly enjoying Puerto Rico.