DAY ONE: Saturday, 31
May 2014
It’s been said to me before that
getting there is never easy. When I
originally planned this return trip, I’d be leaving at an un-natural hour in
order to arrive on the beach by 5 pm. My
arrangements got changed at the beginning of May, as my travel agent (Krista,
of the Round Rock AAA office) had informed me.
I’d still be leaving Austin at an
un-natural hour, but I’d be arriving t St. Croix
by 8 pm. I confess I had this thought of
picking up my rental car and driving myself back to the Palms when it was still
daylight. I feel I know the roads well
enough, but I’d rather not be re-orienting myself during the dark. That’s because the roads can be laden with
potholes, and those are just easier to spot when it’s light out. Well, that’s what the airport transfer bus
was for.
It was very hot and sticky last, as
I tried to get a little extra rest before my journey. Stoop was anxious as he saw me pack. I tried to snuggle with him a bit before I
left, but it was just too hot. He always
misses m when I’m away, and seems to get depressed. If I could take him with me, I would.
Part of the original plan was to
put my car at the Parking Spot. That AAA
Discount of 25% off sounds good until the sales tax and “airport access fee”
(for a grand total of 19%) get tacked on.
$10 a day isn’t such a deal any more.
I discovered that ABIA parking had been reduced to $7 a day (taxes
included). Seemed like a better deal.
I parked in Lot B, right in the
front near a shuttle pick-up. I was the
only one on the bus, so the driver (a cute college-aged girl named Abby) and I
talked a bit. She was all into listening
to the UFO Conspiracy theorist on KLBJ-AM, as well as Alex Jones. Her favorite bands were Korn and Rage Against
The Machine. I told her that she might
like Nightwish or Epica. Because my
business cards were packed in my carry-on (as opposed to the usual spot in my
pocket), I wasn’t able to give her one.
I don’t think we would’ve clicked much.
At the airport there was a nice
red-headed backpack traveler who was trying to work the self-kiosk for American
Airlines. I tried to assist, but it was
directing her to the front desk to complete her request, which wasn’t even open
yet. Well, I attempted to do my good
turn for the day. Once through security,
I walked back and forth along the terminal so I could build up some pedometer
miles. I try to do that when I know I’ll
sitting most of the day.
My first flight was on United, and
would take me to Houston IAH, where I’d get a three-hour layover. I figured I’d either walk, work on this
journal, or watch something on the Kindle (or a combination of all three). Whenever I’m at the airport, I always take
the time to do some people-watching.
There was some good eye-candy, but nothing really that jumped out at me.
When I checked my bag, the United
attendant only gave me two boarding passes.
She said I’d have to pick up my third once I reached San Juan for the last leg of my journey. I wasn’t too keen on that, especially how un-friendly
Angie had said the airport was to anyone who spoke English. Well, I’ll see when I get there. Because of the change in flight arrangements
earlier, my 90 minute layover in San
Juan was now three-hours. Well, more than enough time to figure this
out then.
The flight to Houston was short, and I spent the time in
repose getting some rest. No one was
very talkative, as most of the lights were out.
I disliked the long layover, but I got a lot of walking done. I walked as far as I could within the secure
area. Part of that was because there was
no WiFi I could connect to. I brought
the tablet for that reason. Bummer. At least there were places I could get actual
food, unlike my last trip to St. Croix,
where I fasted (not by choice) the entire trip out, and was starving when I
arrived.
On the flight from Houston
to Puerto Rico , I sat next to a nice older
couple, but they weren’t very talkative.
I read some of my book, but I wanted something a little more
engaging. At least there was an in-flight
movie to watch. It was Ride Along starring Ice Cube and Kevin
Hart. It wasn’t as stupid as the
previews made it out to be, so it was a decent watch. It would’ve been better without Kevin Hart,
who I think was purposely being annoying.
I also got to watch some of the current CBS line-up too, which confirmed
why I don’t watch network prime-time (because it’s stupid). Yes, I caught another episode of The Big Bang Theory, and there was
nothing there I found remotely funny.
Upon my arrival at San Juan , my next adventure
began. My flight to St.
Croix (STX is the airport abbreviation) wasn’t even listed on the leader
board. I went over to the United desk
(at the gate I’d just come through) and asked for assistance. I was told that I’d have to go to the Cape Air
terminal Cape Air
At the appointed time (7 p, when
originally I would’ve been on the beach already), I joined the other passengers
as we walked across the tarmac to our awaiting Cessna. There was a guy who didn’t speak much, but
took a lot of pictures; a lady in a wheelchair; an expat from St. Croix (now
living in Trinidad) who was visiting her folks; and a fresh-out of high school
ASL teacher visiting her family for a month on St. Croix . The ASL teacher said this was the first time
she’d flown since high school, and her first trip by herself.
The sky was beautiful as the sun
was going down, but it was hard to get any shots because the airport tower was
in the way. The Cessna was built to hold
about a dozen people (including crew), and it was still a snug fit for us. Since even our carry-on bags had been stowed,
I was only able to take pictures with my phone.
Still, I got what I could of the Puerto Rico
landscape.
It was only 45 minutes or so to St. Croix , and it was night when we arrived. I was finally able to enjoy the tropical
breeze once we landed, and walked across to the STX airport terminal. I saw my checked baggage had made the trip
also, for that I was happy. The Airport
Shuttle guy was waiting for me. I wanted
to pick up the rental, but it was late to drive and become familiar with the
place again. I didn’t have much of a
choice, as the Hertz person was not present.
The agents for Avis and Budget were at their stations, but no one seemed
to know where the Hertz agent was. Well,
that’s another reason why I had the shuttle set up as my “Plan B.”
The shuttle driver was named Douglas , and I think it was the same guy who drove me
before. He sounded like a drunk Morgan
Freeman. I think he’d had a few too, as
he swerved a bit more than just to avoid potholes. He took me on the same hilly switchback route
as my first visit (Route 79, near the Sunny Isle Shopping Plaza Northside Road )
which is more hilly and curvy, but a better quality road. I was getting to my destination finally.
When we arrived at the Palms at Pelican
Cove, we noticed there were a lot of cars present. There was a runway fashion show at the place
this weekend. That meant I’d been bumped
from my coveted Room 8 to Room 26, which was in the next villa over. If I’d wanted that to start with, I would’ve
gone here back in May as originally planned.
Room 8 would be free Monday, and I could decide then if I wanted to
change it. Well, let’s see what it looks
like first.
Room 8 was in Villa One, and Room
26 was in Villa Two, about twice the distance from the beach (so no “30 step
walk” this time). There were more plants
and trees in the way, so I didn’t have an un-obstructed view. I could see the light from the condos to my
right. Wasn’t really feeling it, but
will see how the morning looks. I
started to unpack a few essentials and realized that TSA had swiped the lock on
the main portion of my suitcase (the nicer of the two locks, by the way). I could use the other one for the main
compartment, but the bag would be less-secure now. That’ll affect my ability to bring stuff
home.
I took a few pictures of the room
(loved the design of the bathroom), and then headed over to the bar for
drinks. As the bottle in the room was
free, I kept that so I could work on it during the week.
The fashion show had closed the
dining area for the next two nights, so I’m glad I didn’t need any food. I ordered an “alcoholic milkshake” to start
with. My bartender, her name was Ocean,
told me what I was asking for was a “Bushwhacker,” not a “Bushmaster” (as I
called it). So that’s why no one
state-side ever knew what it was.
:) Nevertheless, it was tasty.
There were a few patrons at the
bar, as most of the people present were associated with the fashion show. Let’s just say in many numbers of ways this
was not my crowd. I came for peace and
quiet, not loud urban music. I can hear
that at home any time in the neighborhood.
And those participating in the show were not what I found “pleasing to
the eye” (I’m being honest, so sue me).
After killing the Bushwhacker (and not having anyone to chat with), I
ordered a Rum Punch to take back to the room.
Bushwhacker was $8, and Rum Punch was $6, and I made sure to give Ocean
a $2 on each. She said she’d be working
tomorrow night also, so I’ll come back to see her.
Walking back to my room, I stopped
at Villa One and sat near the beach, as it was quiet. Then I realized I could do that in front of
Villa Two also. I headed down to the
beach area near my room, and conveniently found a chair sitting there. I made good use of it, as I enjoyed a clear
view of the Big Dipper (without much light pollution). It was nearing 11 pm now, and once I had
finished the Rum Punch I staggered back to the room. Yes, staggered. The lack of sleep and long time awake had
caught up with me, enhanced by the affects of the rum.
Once my head hit the pillow, I
flatlined. I was out like a light.
For more information on the places visited or mentioned:
The Parking
Spot: http://www.theparkingspot.com/
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