View from our room Sol Melia Resort aka Ivana's side
Our last day was spent lounging by the pool and saying goodbye to Ulysses the towel guy. He was such an important part of our trip I nominated him as the best employee on the resort. I gave honorable mention to Hernando, the shuttle guy, and Daniel, the desk clerk. I tried to get all of them to come home with me but they didn’t go for it. We also said goodbye to Bill’s oldest son, Billy and wife Madeleine. Their Austin, Texas plane connections were different from ours. They were leaving Saturday to tour San Juan, spend the night there, and leave at the luxury hour of 2:00 pm. on Sunday.
Don’t ever plan a huge vacation while still wading through the fog of a death in the family and being the executor of an estate. I planned flights that were to leave San Juan at 6:45 a.m. ( ohh-h-hh dawn thirty) and the resort is one hour from San Juan. There are a few members of our family that don’t do 3:30 mornings. There’s a Puerto Rican coffee that helped me that morning, Yaucono. I like a coffee that bites me, so I let it. I would loved to have had the time to explore the coffee plantations of PR.
As we left in the we-e-e-e hours of July 17, I reflected on the areas outside the resorts of Rio Grande. We passed Trump International Golf Club as we drove through the round about. The gold inlay of the title was visible with their security lights. Large ornate wrought iron gates offer security for the affluent. Beyond the gates, on flat rooftops, mangy dogs drink dirty water.The gates on the windows of houses are dirty and twisted, no staff is hired to clean theirs. Some people live in horrible conditions especially in the mountainous areas. Many of the locally owned businesses are charred from fire; workers are oblivious to this as long as they have a job. Often, these companies are next door to shiny car dealerships and not far from shopping areas that advertise such names as Old Navy and Wal Mart.
My son drove our car into the Budget Rental area at 4 a.m. We caught a Budget shuttle to the San Juan Airport five minutes away. And so the traveling mayhem began anew. We checked our bags by computer the night before. After our tickets were scanned, we hit the ‘lettuce line’ also known as Ag on Parade. After the ‘potato police’ found no rotten fruit or exotic animals we were cleared for the electronic I Spy game with touches, feels, and a complete standup body scan included. Two of my granddaughters had their bags checked and taken aside for further inspection. They packed gift candles (with wicks!) in their carry ons. Since they didn’t have matches they were waved through and given their candles back.
No hot food service was available in the airport until 6:30. It was rough eating a vending machine lunchable at 6 am. The grandchildren played Scrabble Slam with me, slept, and read books. I could never have hoped or dreamed for six more beautifully well behaved grands. They are not perfect, but this grandmother overlooks a lot since I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like.
We left the New Orleans bunch as we landed in Charlotte. This always makes me tearful, but I look forward to seeing them Thanksgiving week. The rest of our crew took the ‘puddle jumper’ to Greenville-Spartanburg. Even I-85 looked good to me as we touched down. There is no place like home, absolutely no place!
This trip was one that Bill and I had hoped to take. I have beautiful memories and stories to share with you about the travels we did take. I know he was with us…
The last beach trip with Bill and family Edisto 2010