If ever I was in need of a "get away from it all" vacation, it would have to be now. It’s been a year for us that can only be described by the cliché “roller coaster.” In the sweet aftermath of our eldest child’s wedding and start of our son’s college days, my mother passed away, literally, a year ago today. But in the midst of all this, and a full-time day job, I was also putting the finishing touches on my first book Chasing Zebras: The Unofficial Guide to House, M.D. And if that wasn’t enough, I became first a TV/Film editor for Blogcritics, and then, in October, Co-Executive Editor. Roller Coaster. ‘Nuff said.
Unquestionably, we (meaning me and my husband Phil) were in desperate need of getting off said roller coaster. A week wasn’t quite going to do it. We would need a couple days simply to
decompress—before we started doing “vacation” things like hiking, boating and exploring. So, we decided on 10 days: a full workweek sandwiched between two weekends. Perfect. I wanted Paradise; he wanted time to rest and swim in the ocean. We both wanted to be warm, outdoors, and have opportunities to see wildlife (and maybe a little wild life), and other exotic living beings. But for both of us, the big goal of this vacation was downtime from day jobs and snow. For him, to read, play music and chill out; for me that meant time to sit in the sun, listen to the crash of waves and write. The reading and chilling out, while important, this week was to be for not having to split my time between my writing life and “the day job.”
Bandying about the names of places we’ve not yet sojourned, we decided to try Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Sitting on the horseshoe-shaped Banderas Bay along Mexico’s Pacific Coast, Puerto Vallarta is ringed by the magnificent Sierra Madre Mountains. Among the many resorts along the Bay, we chose The Marival Residences and World Spa in the northern part of Banderas Bay—in Neuvo Vallarta.
We made our plans, paid for our all-inclusive slice of Paradise and awaited February 4, V(acation)-Day.
Pre-flight Madness
On Sunday, January 30 I came home from work with chills and fever. Perfect. By Monday it was confirmed strep and I started a 
course of antibiotics, hoping it would clear by week’s end. Of course the Amoxicillin did nothing for the accompanying viral infection, or my incessant sleepiness. I was pretty sure I’d be healthy for Friday, but what we hadn’t anticipated was the two-foot snowfall that covered Chicago between Tuesday Morning and Wednesday afternoon. So, sick, snowed-in and a million things to do before leaving, I felt about as ready for a vacation as I ever had been. Of course there was also the fear that our flight would be cancelled, since O’Hare Airport wasn’t up to schedule until sometime Thursday night.
Article comments