Travel Tips Archives - Page 4 of 13

Is It The Actual Trip or The Fantasy Created in Preparing for Your Travel?

Earlier this week a friend of ours posted a Facebook plea, which read something like this, “I am going to the Welsh Coast this summer and need help buying proper hiking shoes…”

Having recently been in Wales (at a Pub near the English border, not the coast), I felt like I could give the perfect advice, [wink, wink]. In truth, we did hike in South Downs, England at Beachy Head (one of my favorite places I’ve been), which I imagine has similar terrain to the Welsh Coastline. Quickly, I looked up my favorite walking/hiking shoe brand (I have purchased at least thirty pairs over the years), copied and then pasted the link with this message:

“Do not go hardcore. You won’t need crazy hiking shoes/boots. Get something cool, functional, comfortable and waterproof, like a pair of Gore-Tex Salomons. Take one of your lovely friends to REI or the Salomon Store and look. Trust me. I have worn these for years and have hiked many a mile in them. The Salomon Gorw-Tex trail runner rocks!”

Quickly the thread digressed into why our friend should not buy the shoes from the store I recommended (REI), because of REI’s new return policy “sucks.” The thread had a point.

As I was telling the shoe-exchange-gone-wrong, Dave burst out with “that’s it.”

“What’s it?” I asked.

“Often times it is the anticipation of the trip that gives someone the most pleasure — like shopping for shoes.”

We are currently in Costa Rica staying at the Five Star Andaz Papgayo (a Hyatt Brand Hotel). I would call this hotel a little bit of heaven tucked away on the Costa Rican coast. Moments earlier Dave, the boys and I were at one of the four swimming pools when the rain rolled in. It was falling just hard enough that we decided to take shelter under the open-air, covered Rio Bhongo restaurant. Here we sat as I stared at the beautiful bay view, the jungle flowers, the sky, the ocean, and the swimming pools below. We are in paradise.

Hyatt's Andaz Papagayo, Costa Rica — Hyatt’s Andaz Papagayo, Costa Rica

Yet paradise can go wrong. Last night, for instance, I walked into the bench at the foot of our bed, stubbed my toe, and split my toenail all the way down the middle. Ouch! Before that Dave was in the ocean with Kyle when he walked into a rock. We thought it was broken. And right before that, I sprayed bug repellent on my legs, which melted my pedicure.

As we waited for the rain to stop, our conversation continued.

“People spend months and months looking for the perfect hotel, the best attractions, reading reviews, and telling their friends about where they are going.”

“It is like the fantasy created in planning is where the joy is, and the trip may even be something to check off a list, or better, the less-enjoyed aspect of the whole experience.” I responded.

What Dave and I both observed is that for many people the real joy in travel does come from picking out the right travel shoes. Then we both wondered, “how much of the actual satisfaction of the journey lies in the planning, or doing things like gathering points?”

I think for many it is a lot. I would argue that getting the most joy out of fantasizing your most amazing trip is not only ok, but your trip fantasy can give you endless joy and satisfaction. When you plan, you can take time to imagine things like all the stunning and formidable rock cliffs shooting out of the Welsh coastline. You can see yourself walking along in your perfect hiking shoes while using a clever walking stick (I imagine one with some sort of Celtic wood carving). And then you can see yourself hiking along with your adorable Welsh guide. You hardly understand what he is saying through his strong Welsh accent, but that does not matter. You are simply delighted as the sea mist brushes your face and you share tales of warriors and magical sea creatures. I imagine your fantasy does not include toe injuries, unexpected fees, or canceled flights. I am certain it does not include the possibility that you bought the wrong hiking shoe, or the fact that once you arrive in Wales, you may not even see the coast through the rain and fog. My guess is that if you were thinking about staying in paradise, rain, which it is doing now, is not even considered.

“See, once you are actually there, things can go wrong.” Dave continued.

“You may not even need the hiking shoes, or better, if you go some magical place like Hawaii, you may never leave your beachside chair.” I inserted.

“Or not even make it to the beach at all, and stay by the pool.” Dave followed.

It is an interesting thought. I do not think it matters. I think some of us enjoy all aspects of travel: the planning, the trip, the social media sharing, and the return. I also think for some people the actual trip is perfunctory (remember things can go wrong), and it really is the planning (the fantasy) that allows them to escape their everyday life. I look at it this way. You can plan for months and months. Each of those planning days can serve as a most perfect vacation day. If planning is your thing, I think you have created a most excellent way to extend your vacation. High fives to you and your super durable hiking shoes!

Sidebar:

Here is a list of some of our favorite planning websites:

1. My favorite multipurpose travel information website: Tripadvisor
2. Rent-your-own lodging: VRBO, HomeAway, and AirBnB (all of these sites are worldwide)
4. My mother-inlaw’s favorite travel review website: Fordor’s
5. A great flight, hotel and car rental aggregator: Kayak
6. To learn about earning points: The Points Guy
7. If you want to stay on someone’s couch: Couchsurfing
8. Flight Matrix Search (gives you a way to really find the lowest cost airfare): ITA
9. Finally, If part of the fantasy is a personalized, customized approach, and you are traveling in South or Central America: Mosaico Travel

Costa Rica: Our Travel Hacks, Lo-Fi Style

by CrazyUsJune 2, 2015June 2, 2015Travel / Travel Photgraphy / Travel Tips

We flew into Costa Rica on a Red Eye, and all we wanted to do is pick up our car and go. “Mom! Feel it!” As the sweat rolled off of all of our foreheads Eli exclaimed, “Mom! Dad! Feel my seat! Seriously, feel the headrest! There is goo all over it!” Eli was correct. Not only was there goo all over his seat and headrest, there was dark colored goo inside the door. Gross!
Thank you, Budget car rental Liberia, Costa Rica. (In their defense, I imagine all the four-wheel drive jungle-exploring vehicles are a little long in the tooth). Because I know Dave speaks Spanish, I asked him, “Will you ask the dude for another car?”
“Sure.” Then Dave asked, and then man immediately summoned another dude to find us a car. As fast as the dude pulled the car out, and threw our luggage into it, we were doing a goo check of the new one.
“Nope. Still gross.”

My guess is that my fatigue and the heat were making me forget my tried and true method of making sure we get a good rental car. And then I remembered and quickly jumped my brain into gear, “Beth, go check the mileage in of the cars.”
Sure enough, the third car the guy pulled up had one-third the miles. We had a winner! The seats were not perfect, but they certainly were not gross. As we (finally) pulled out of the rental car place I said, “Dave, if I were ever going to advise anyone about travel I would say, ‘LEARN FROM ME. Pick a car with the lowest miles.’ Sure, it is not a perfect guarantee of a flawless rental car, but it is close, and that is great.”

Me outside of the Liberia, Costa Rica McDonalds

We were hot. We were tired. We were (still) dripping pools of sweat. We had just purchased $35 US of bottled water (yes, that is correct), and with our thirst well accommodated, we realized how hungry we were. We are totally smartphone-dependent, yet had no internet to Google Map or Yelp us somewhere, and that the boys were starving.

“Do you want to find something local?” Dave asked me.
“We have no internet.” I answered, and continued, “How can we check our options?”

Dave knows Liberia has a Burger King, and I know I do not like Burger King. I had seen the McDonald’s across the street and said, “Hey, let’s get the boys some McDonald’s McFlurrys.”

“What? Are you sure?” He asked. ? Dave knows that I often turn my nose up at McDonalds in hopes of finding a healthier alternative.

“Maybe they have free Wi-Fi.” I answered.

In seconds we went from the grocery store around the dusty construction-filled roundabout, turned left and were at McDonalds. [insert a Spanish-styled Hallelujah chorus here]. We walked inside. I pulled out my smartphone. I checked and indeed Liberia McDonalds has free Wi-Fi. [again I heard the Spanish-Styled Hallelujah chorus]. The place was packed. I immediately offered up the McFlurrys. Dave stood in line while we saved seats. Our food arrived. My lovely husband got me my own order of fries. McDonalds in the moment had the best and saltiest, most satisfying french-fries ever; french-fries that are heaven to a stomach after a long international flight. The McFlurrys were a hilarious misstep of deliciousness: not mixed, syrup and cookies on top. Dave thinks they do not have the McFlurry mixing machine working properly. None of us cared, because they were awesome. And then there were the bonus straws. See, when you sip a cold beverage, the straw turns pink. “Dave, hey look.” I said as my Coca-Cola-filled straw went from clear to pink. We were relaxed, well fed and no longer dripping pools of sweat. We Google Mapped our journey and knew where we were headed, and two local security dudes asked us to take their picture. Way to go, Liberia McDonalds! Way to go! I understand why your entire town may have been inside your air-conditioned and free Wi-Fi doors. Honestly, I do not blame them.

We were on our way, satisfied and happily refreshed. Because Dave was able to Google Map us at McDonalds, we knew where we were headed. We drove through dusty towns on the Pan-American highway. We turned somewhere and then along beautiful and gigantic Lake Arenal. Hours passed by and of course we were hungry again. I always travel with a various assortment of bars and with only salt French-fries in my stomach, I desperately wanted one. My Luna Bars were easy to access. I also know the Luna Bars have a yummy coating. I grabbed my Luna Bar and it was a mushy hot mess trapped in its Luna Bar wrapper. As the cool breeze of the air conditioner touched my face, a flash of insight shot through my brain. “What if I hold my Luna Bar up to the air conditioning vents?” It worked. After minutes of holding and flipping from one side to the other, my bar reanimated itself into the bar it was meant to be.

We finally reached or destination, La Fortuna, Costa Rica. And yes, we were hungry (again – dudes, I have two giant and still growing teenage sons). Our drive from Liberia was a long and pleasant. Now at our lovely little lodge (El Silencio Del Campo), Dave quickly looked up a few restaurants. We left, and once we are on the road, nothing made sense. We could not find any of the Spanish named eateries. We drove and drove. The boys told us, “We are hungry,” and we drove some more. We did not want to pay unnecessarily high tourist trap prices. Then, out of the corner of our eye of our eye we saw all these people sitting in an open-air roadside café (El Coloso). “Hey, they look like locals.” I said. We stopped. We ordered. We devoured. Sure enough, the food was delicious, and not expensive. Dave is certain this place is the place to go and here is why. Dave observed, “See, the steady stream of locals coming in to buy fried chicken and tortilla chips to go.” He is correct. I ordered the pechuga de pollo. It was awesome and seasoned like nothing else.. You can ask for platanos (plantains). Yum!

Deet melts nailpolish (and I told you my big toe was big)

Our dinner was finished and we were back at our lovely little lodge, (El Silencio Del Campo). As I took my sandals off I noticed black marks all over my foot and that something sticking to my (unusually big) big toe. I leaned over and touched my toe. My toenail polish was gummy, smudged and had bled onto my foot. At first I thought it might be the heat and humidity. Then I remembered. Right before dinner I sprayed my ankles and feet with bug spray. Bugs love me and this time I was going to be prepared. Little did I know that Deet melts the feet, or better, that Deet melts nailpolish. Of course it does. So if I can save you any heartache, I will. Next time you are in the Jungle, or Minnesota, for that matter, and you are spraying for bugs, watch the pedicure. You are welcome [wink wink].

We had been up for nearly twenty-four hours. Our fatigue melted into satisfaction. We were safe, well fed, and cool. And as I wet wiped the nail polish off of both feet, Dave and the boys were already in bed. I would call our day great, and our simple out-of-the country hacks (travel solutions) a success.

SideBar:

Our Learn-from-our-mistakes List of Travel Hacks

1. Look for low car miles to avoid a rental car SNAFU
2. Do not Turn Your Nose Up at McDonalds, especially in a foreign country. They probably have free Wi-FI
3. Remember Alternative Uses for a Car’s Air Conditioner: reanimating power bars
4. When you do not know where to eat, look for the locals.
5. Deet melts nailpolish

How do we have Sex on Vacation When Very Aware Teens are Involved?

by CrazyUsJune 1, 2015October 2, 2017Travel / Travel Tips / Travel With Teens

We tell them we will meet them at the pool in a few minutes and then lock the door.

Ok. Let me be clear. I am no “sex”- pert. I am not sure that my experiences will be helpful (I hope they are). I also wonder if this is a good topic (I think it is). I know my mother-in-law could read this, and so could my mom. I am certain I might embarrass Dave. And my how-babies-were-made words will most definitely mortify the boys. Rest assured for a minute while I tell Kyle and Eli a little story.

Boys,

Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock first brought us Kyle and then brought Eli. Apparently each of you was found amongst the Tribbles. You were so cute and delightful that we decided to raise you as our own. That is my story and I am sticking to it.

Love, Mom

And now that I mentioned the word, I also think I may have freaked you out. And here is how. Just now I introduced the thought, (most likely a traumatic one), that yes, Beth has sex. Never fear. Dave and I just hold hands [wink, wink]. Nevertheless, sex or no sex, strange or appropriate, as a non-fiction writer I always thought I should find a way to appropriately and honestly write mommy and daddy relations. And because I seem to be writing travel these days, and because Dave, the boys and I are on the road so often, I think the topic of sex in tight spaces is an important one. (No. I promise Dave and I are not undercover Cirque Du Soleil performers.) What I am referring to is how Dave and I manage to have mommy and daddy time, especially when we are out of town.

Here is the deal. The behind the scenes world of travel can be dark, exotic, distracting, amazing, tired, out-of-sorts, angry, bitter, and just plain uncomfortable. To get to Costa Rica (where we currently are), for instance, the boys and I took one Red Eye, and Dave took another, through two different hub cities, meeting at the airport in Costa Rica 30 minutes apart. We are sharing a one-room cabin and were up by 7:30 AM the next day (this morning) so Kyle and Eli could milk a cow. I know, weird, but also totally cool.

We hiked to the most awesome La Fortuna Waterfall. Then headed to Arenal Volcano National Park, where we saw billions of Leaf Cutter Ants. How cool is that? Very. The clouds cleared long enough for us to see the top of the Volcano, which is something I will never forget. Both boys have homework. We always need to eat. Dave wants to hike to the Rio Celeste tomorrow. And because we are together and have points expiring today, we are booking hotels for later this summer. Dave and the boys are playing Monopoly Deal outside, and I am ready for bed.

When I got married everyone told me not to go to bed angry. I am not angry. I am happy. This has been a good day. No one ever said, “Hey, make sure to have sex every night before you go to bed.” Why? Because that is nuts! Unless, that is, you do. No judgment. Really, high fives to any of you he make sex every night happen. Wow! We are all busy. At home it is much easier to fit in a quickie, or have some really good handholding time while the boys are in school. I love Friday afternoons just for that reason.

Traveling is tricky. Traveling is a time where hands need to stay connected. It is true. When Kyle and Eli were younger we waited to have sex until they were asleep. At the time it seemed difficult. We were worn out and tired. When we worked a little lovemaking in, our travels were always better. Sometimes now I wish for the days when all it took was for our boys to fall asleep. The good part about traveling with others is that other people can distract your sons so you can have sex. For instance, when we traveled with Dave’s mom. It was easy. She had another room, and when Dave and I needed a moment we sent the boys to find her. Thank you for being there, DeAnne.

Now our boys are teenagers. We have talked to them about sex. We know they are at the age when the thought of their parents naked and engaged makes them want to puke. Last night when Dave kissed me in the hot springs, Eli almost threw up. We all laughed and Dave kissed me again. And I say, “let him barf.” Kyle and Eli need to see the connection. After a few seconds of, “ew Mom and Dad, you are gross,” Eli gave us a hug. Yes, he gave us a hug. We were all connecting It is not sex. It is intimacy. The boys need to see that their parents really like each other, and we do. Today was long. Because the boys and I were in Utah and Dave was in San Francisco all week, Dave and I knew it was time to reconnect.

So tonight when the boys asked if they could get their suits on so we all could go the hot springs, we said, “yes.” Then we urged them to go ahead. “We will meet you there in a few minutes.” We told them. They quickly changed and left the room. Then we locked the door and shut the curtains.

Hello. My name is Beth. Last night I bought a swimsuit…

by CrazyUsMay 29, 2015June 7, 2023Travel / Travel Tips

and I Survived.

In the interest of full disclosure and before I launch into my swimsuit-picking-out ordeal, I offer this disclaimer: No, my husband has not posted a picture of my backside in a bikini on Instagram (he doesn’t have an account wink wink), or my front side, for that matter. If he ever does, I apologize in advance. The only reason my boobs look big is because of my giant barreling ribcage underneath them. As far as my diet and exercise habits go, I am not Paleo. I do not starve myself. I do not work out seventy-three hours a day. I do not run marathons, or do Crossfit, or participate in bike races with all of my equally fit lady friends. I do not wear tank tops, and here is why. I think t-shirts hold in my upper arm jiggle, or as I sometimes call them, “my batwings.”

I am Gluten Free (yes, a “for real” wheat allergy). I try to walk or hike each day. And as hard as I have tried to work my work-out-resistant triceps, my upper arm jiggle is not going anywhere. My mom’s prayers have been answered, because I no longer hide my body in super baggy clothes.

In a few short hours we leave for Costa Rica. Costa Rica is hot and humid. I know we will be at the beach, swimming pools and visiting hot springs. As much as I wish I could either wear a snowsuit or simply go naked, I cannot. You and I both know wearing a snowsuit might kill me, and the sight of me going naked might kill you (at least with laughter).

I went to two stores, Nordstrom and Athleta. Because of their most liberal return policies, visiting these two stores was a very calculated move. In Nordstrom I saw a suit that I liked until I saw the gold fasteners. I do not wear gold. I knew my time was short so I walked out of the store, headed over to the escalator, went down and walked myself over to Athleta. As I entered the store in an anxiety haze seventeen (two) girls asked if I needed help. Like fourteen year old boy asking a girl to dance, my words came out clunky and awkward. “I am just looking.” I said really, really loud. I was so loud that the manager had to explain to the co-worker, “just give her some space.” It was a hilarious dance between traumatized swimsuit shopper and eager sales girl. I worked my way over and over through the store when at last the now-drooling sales girl was able to cut in.

“I like bottoms that cover everything.” I said.

To which she responded, “Have you seen our bottom chart?”

“Nope.”

Pointing at the bottom chart she said, “Look.”

“I like that one.” I responded. Consumed in nerves I could not read the words below the high coverage bottoms: ONLINE ONLY. I wanted to run out of the store screaming. I could not. I had waited until the last minute. I took a deep breath and said, “Do you have anything in the store with high coverage? And not this bright blue.”

Let me tell you something about me, and probably my generation. We were raised at a time when black is how we felt on the inside [wink wink]. We were reared in black and we will always wear black, and all of its varying shades. Black is always available, even when it is not in. “Do you have something in black?”

She tried to push me into the navy with the pinkish stripe boy short. “No. I said black.” She tried for straight up navy. “No. Let’s try the black.” Finally and thank god, (because the Gap across the way does not have the same generous return policy) she led me to the black swimsuits. Hey and remember if you are ever buying a swimsuit at the last minute, or anytime, for that matter, calm yourself and do not let yourself get pushed into something you will never wear.

I am short. One pieces do not fit me well. I saw the tankini tops. And because of my giant ribcage I was able to size my trick boobs into the B/C cup-size. “They do not come any smaller.” She urged.

We grabbed a top. We grabbed some bottoms. And as sweat gathered on my upper lip, we walked the plank. I mean, we headed over to the dressing room. “Beth, I will be here if you need me.” She was not here when I needed her. Alone in that dressing room, I stood for a very long moment, naked and afraid. Thank goodness I heard a mom admonishing her young son, “I am going to take my clothes off. Are you sure you want to come in the dressing room with me? “ And then I heard her sales associate. This was my chance. So as I stood with only a tankini top on I whispered, “Hey, can you grab me the swim skirt in a different size?” Hold up. Yes, it is true. I move from the synched swim bottom to the swim skirt. They were out of the swim short. The biking bottoms prominently displayed my C-section scar.

“Sure, what size do you need?” As she ran to get my size, I heard her bump into my original sales lady. There was no blood, but close. Good. I was now distracted by my own naked body staring at me in the mirror. New sales lady won and brought me the correct size.

I stood looking in the mirror and thought, “for last minute this black tankini isn’t so bad.” Then I quietly peered through the slit in the dressing room curtain. Slowly I opened the curtain and stepped outside. The fact that I could actually stand in a shopping mall dressing area with a swimsuit on was the test. I did it. The new sales lady came back. We talked suits. We talked fit. She did not throw up at the sight of me. Dear Mother Earth, I think we have a winner! I bought a swimsuit. I bought a swimsuit on my own! I will leave my snow-suit at home. And if I chicken out, remember, there is always the awesome return policy to fall back on.

Embracing Packing and Then Conquering It

by CrazyUsMay 28, 2015June 12, 2015Travel / Travel Tips

[Insert Whip Cracking Sound Here]

My brain does not work in an Excel spreadsheet sort of way. I do not live a cute, Etsy-styled, Pinterest-board, pre-packaged life. My packing style follows suit. Right now the most important thing I can do is leave with clean clothes. Everything else can be figured out along the way. In truth, so can the clean clothes.

Packing: I should own you by now. I should know how to do you right. I actually should have a clever crafty list, a tried-and-true way, a “something” that actually makes packing easier. I don’t. Ok. I do have one tried and true method that my lovely and feisty midwestern Grandma Koener, standing 4’10” tall, gave to me. “Bethy,” she said. (Yes, she called me Bethy until the day she died). “Bethy, roll your clothes when you pack them. They will not wrinkle, and trust me, you will have more space.” Grandma Koener is correct and since the day she packed me for college and I watched her energetically roll all of my clothes (at age eighty-something), I have been likewise not only rolling my clothes when I pack, but sharing the gospel of clothes-rolling

Today I am in no mood to roll my clothes. My calves ache (from a hike earlier this week I think), Kyle’s ears (yes, both of them) hurt, and Eli wants to go back to bed. As the leader of our motley crew, I must push through the leg and ear pain, through the fatigue, and push us through. I push us through with the following knowledge: Along with Grandma Koener’s it-really-works clothes rolling technique, we have awesome suitcases, with great compartments, and Kyle and Eli know how to pack (yes, they roll their clothes too). I also have the knowledge that every trip is different.

And what I mean by different is each time I go out of town our life is surrounded with different circumstances. Because I know things are never the same, I have learned to cut myself some slack (and the boys, and Dave too, of course) and pace myself. Forgiveness is key. I tell myself thing like, “so what if clothes are folded instead of rolled?” Does it really matter if my toenails are painted? (Yes). And really, who cares if I (Dave) put new music on my iPad. I can play Bubble Bust instead.”

The slack I give myself is the understanding that today we are living in a temporary apartment. Most of our belongings are stashed away in a storage unit miles from here. Kyle probably does have a double ear infection. Eli is exhausted. It is the last week and a half of online school (oh thank God), and I am pushing them to finish. In truth, I have my own schoolwork to do. I should be doing that instead of packing or writing a blog post. I am here instead of reading early twentieth century literature or trying to find the missing bra-cup pad for my swimsuit top liner (you and I both know that one or no swimsuit bra pads is not a pretty sight).

Please learn from me. I promise you will forget something. I also promise that you will be ok. Pack what you need. If you forget something, do not worry. Do not let your need for perfection ruin your day. Perfection comes when we let go.

Our plane leaves at midnight tomorrow. I know I will figure it all out. I will see my mom. I will pick up our mail. I will actually buy a new swimsuit. Kyle will go to the doctor, and Eli will get his extra credit done. Dave will buy the jungle bug spray, and if he forgets, we will buy some along the way. Wish us luck! And yes, the only thing that would make my packing experience better is if Grandma Koener were here by my side rolling clothes into my suitcase. Dude, she could pack!

Tagged : Packing for a trip

Next Stop: Costa Rica. First Stop: Finalizing Our Hotel

by CrazyUsMay 27, 2015June 2, 2015Travel / Travel Tips

Next Stop: Costa Rica. First, We Need to Finalize Our Hotel

The boys and I leave in two days. We are taking the Red Eye, flying from Salt Lake City to Miami, and then onto Liberia, Costa Rica. Dave will meet us there. His flight is much the same. He flies from San Francisco to Houston to Liberia. I know, crazy, right? Thanks to a boatload of dusty British Airways Miles, we are able to make this trip. (We have these miles 1. because of the very high tax BA charges to fly through London, which makes Europe travel difficult and 2. because of the recent mileage rate devaluation. 3. The Plus. BA airways miles still work for lower Hawaii flights, by the way.)

And really today I was going to write about feelings and values. I was going to start with this:

Last night Kyle (age 15) told me it is hard to be away from his friends. “Mom, next week is the last week of school and that is when all the fun happens.” I get it. I get it so much that we postponed this trip because of “all the fun that was happening last week.” What do we value? Kyle understandably values his friends.

Dave values coming home each week, Eli values being included, and I value being a mom. We all value being this crazy unit of four. When it comes to travel, however, Dave and I value things a little differently. We both want a nice hotel, and what I am coming to realize is that what we define as nice is very different.

And as I plan our upcoming trip, we are right back in our what-we-value-in-a-hotel conundrum. Alas, I need to put the touchy feely feelings post aside while never forgetting that this transition is very hard for our boys. In this moment, however, I need to get down to business. We only have two days!

Here it is. Dave and I appear to want the same type of hotel room, like visiting Arenal Volcano near the town of La Fortuna, Costa Rica. We both think an exotic styled hotel would be cool. I found one. Then Dave did not want to pay the extra person charge. I do not blame him. I thought it was a rip off until I saw that all the hotels have an extra person charge. Even though Dave does not think he is picky, he is. He is stubborn and willful (just like me). I knew he would not cave so I kept looking. Then I found The Tree House Hotel Costa Rica. What is more exotic than sleeping in a real life tree house with koati and toucans? When I sent him the hotel information, he was now willing to go all out. What? My hotel has a volcano view, cute cabins, hot springs, butterflies, and goats!

Ah-ha, this is the moment when (once again) I realize that Dave and I define (value) “exotic” and “special” a little differently. The nudge is, “how do we both feel satisfied?” Do I cave? Does he cave? Do we turn into passive-aggressive-monsters; monsters, who up front say things like, “No, I just want you to be happy.” And once there, pout and backend each other with phrases like, “do you know how long I have dreamed about feeding goats along a hot spring? Sure, at Dave’s hotel, I can see toucans and koati, but where are the goats?” No. We find a way to compromise. I would like to say compromise gets easier, and sometimes it does. Dave and I are older. We are more set in who we are. We are both busy. We both also acknowledge the first world variety of our issues. We know we are lucky to travel. We are grateful we get to chose. Nevertheless, to make both of our Red Eye flights worth traveling to a jungle in the middle-of-nowhere, we must find a hotel we both like (or at least won’t hate each other over).

I promise there will be enough unforeseen issues on our journey. What I have learned is that ahead of time (yes, before we leave the country) we must do everything in our power to work through these issues. Ultimately, I caved (just a little because the hotel seems pretty cool). I chose the Tree House (of horrors) Hotel. Right now I keep texting Dave (who is in a meeting) to see what tree house cabin he wants. “Do you want the Frog or the Sloth?” I know he hit auto-response: “I’m in a meeting. Text me.”

Fights in the jungle suck! And not having a hotel room sucks even more. I do put my money where my mouth is. If I am going to write about travel, and claim to have all this travel knowledge, I better be able to learn something myself, right? Finger pointing kills a trip (and probably a marriage). Therefore and even at the risk of losing our room, I mean cabin, I absolutely will not commit to the Tree House Hotel Costa Rica without Dave’s triple-checked go ahead (and human texted response). I will let you know what he decides.

Hilarious Update:

Dave called and texted me. I was in the shower. I called him back. I heard his voice. Yay! Both of us have decided to wait. We think both hotels have their pros and cons. We promised each other we will make our reservation before we go.

CrazyUS.com

Category: Travel Tips