Tranquility Sandwiched by Chaos

Tranquility Sandwiched by Chaos

 

Mrs. C and I are back from four days of peace, tranquility and the beauty of Turks and Caicos Islands in the Caribbean.  The island is beautiful, the water clear and warm and our accommodations were what I always imagined where rich people stayed.

I love the islands.  I hate the travel.  Twelve hours of racing to stand in multiple lines, followed by four days to recover from the trip. 

Then stress free and relaxed it all gets erased on the trip home.

Day 1 –

Wake at four thirty to get to the airport or a 10:30 flight which goes to Charlotte for a 2:00 flight to Turks.

Receive a phone call that due to mechanical difficulties the flight to Charlotte will not take off until 12:30 which means we will miss our connecting flight.  We leave for the airport anyway hoping that somehow the plane will be in flight shape sooner than stated.  I am frustrated and complain the entire way to the airport saying something like, “We are fucked, we’re going to miss at least a full day in Turks and Caicos.  The money for our room is down the drain.” 

Mrs. C kept saying “It will work out.”

We get to the airport and find we have been directed us to a different airline leaving at about the same time and connecting to a flight to Turks from Miami.  Crisis diverted, but I am still frazzled.

Day 2-5 we spend four days in Turks, swimming, snorkeling, sipping wine on our large terrace overlooking the Caribbean, and dining at fine restaurants.  I am unfrazzzled.

Day 6 – We check out of the resort at 10:00, cab for the airport does not come until 11:00.  The flight leaves at 2:00 so no problem.  We wait in line to get our boarding passes and check our bag.  The line is not moving.  After 45 minutes, the line is still not moving.  I start to panic and say stuff like “We are fucked, this line is taking too long, we are going to miss our flight and the connecting flight and end up sleeping in the airport and who knows when we will ever get home.” 

Mrs. C says, “Relax it will all work out.”

The line finally starts to move and we check our bag with time to spare.  We then go through TSA security check and find another huge line.  I say, “We are fucked…”  Mrs. C says, “It will all work out.”

We do in fact make out flight, and land in Charlotte with 2 ½ hours to make our connection.  No problem.

Problem; computers are down in customs and the line is huge.  We snake along thinking we are getting close and then the line seems to snake away from the custom agents.  I fear that, “We are fucked, if we miss this connecting flight…”  

Mrs. C says, “It will all work out.”

From customs we then have to again enter another line to be x-rayed.  We are starting to cut it close time wise.  “Now we are fucked for sure…” “Relax, it will work out.”

We made our connecting flight, picked up out luggage at baggage claim (I always feel like I hit the lottery when I see our bag on that baggage ramp thing) catch the bus to long term parking.

On the way home as we pull onto Rt. 22 we run into nothing but the red lights of a giant traffic jam.

“We are”

Before I could even get started Mrs. C just said, “Shut the fuck up! It will all work out...Jerk!”

The traffic jam cleared in about ten minutes and before long we were home.  It took twelve hours to get home, but as Mrs. C said, it all worked out.

I need a vacation, I am frazzled.