I have returned from our vacation refreshed and ready. For what, I have no idea. But I’m used to that by now.

I left for vacation prepared to be on an adventure. This frame of mind is most helpful because you never know what’s going to come at you on a trip. One can plan all they want but Life has a way of nudging you back into reality. Take this trip for example:

We traveled as a group of seven. My husband and I,  his brother and sister-in-law, a sister of the sister-in-law, her best friend, and a cousin. The group was converging in New York City from two cities – Chicago and Denver. Traveling with us was the cousin who lives in Rockford.

For full disclosure, we have cruised with this group before and we have had a marvelous time! Now five years later, we were gathering together to see New England and Canada’s fall colors amidst the touristy things to do. We all read over the excursions, made our selections or not depending on the port of call. For instance – in Boston, my husband and I chose to walk the Freedom Trail – map securely clutched in our hands.

But much to my surprise, this adventure began at LaGuardia airport. To witness, then experience the taxi system was most impressive. The ride was another all onto itself. Now, being familiar with downtown Chicago traffic, I was still unprepared for the New York experience. I can say with firm conviction, that ride rated right up there with the Spiderman ride at Universal Studios in Orlando. I even slammed my foot on the floor of the back seat searching for an imaginary brake pedal. Several times.

Arriving at our hotel, we greeted the Denver Contingency like we just had a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past, shoved our bags in our rooms and went in search of dinner. (I was hoping for a stiff drink!) We only had to walk two blocks before we came upon Roll n Roaster. Already packed with customers we joined the line, perusing the menu and getting suggestions from the locals. We wolfed down our roast beef sandwiches and tater tots and headed back to our hotel to discuss what we wanted to do with our day before boarding the ship. Our destination for the next day: Coney Island!

Day two: Coney Island

After inquiring about the buses, we went in search of the tokens or a roll of quarters. Next we walked almost a mile to stand waiting for the bus to arrive. Many with that route number sailed right on by. An hour later, one stopped to take us on. The bus was already so crowded, trying to walk or make room to stand (and grab on to a strap) was like an illustration of blood vessels traveling through a clogged artery – the kind you would see on a pharmaceutical commercial for blood thinners.

If I thought riding in a NYC taxi was harrowing – it was nothing like the bus ride to Coney Island! It was great (if not crowded) until a woman in the back started yelling, “Leave me alone! Stop talking to me! Go away!” I’m not sure where that woman thought the offender could have gone in the sea humanity imitating a can of sardines. I became aware of a man’s voice continuing to speak despite the woman’s repeated protestations. The bus driver never even glanced in his rear view mirror to check and see which Cretan was causing the ruckus. If we’d been in the car with my Dad, he’s had a few choice words for all of us to “Settle down back there! Or I’ll give you something to really cry about!”

I cringed from my place near the front weaving in time with the bus, my hand in a death grip on the strap overhead. Were we about to become victims of a mental patient with a weapon?

Suddenly another voice joined the onboard cacophony. Another man, sitting close to the woman started shouting at the first man to leave the poor shrieking woman alone. His booming voice must have held super-human powers because before long (and the next stop) all was quiet.

We escaped the bus with only another mile walk that ended at the boardwalk known as Coney Island. Our day was filled with sunshine and pleasant temperatures. People walked, raced to get on rides, enjoyed the tasty treats, and relaxed. A parade walked on by while we ate Nathan’s hot dogs basking in the day all the elements around us. Idyllic, right?

Then our lady from Rockford was stung by a persistent bee. She waved the incident off and we went in search of dessert – funnel cake. Once we had our treasured treats in hand (sharing the calories) we headed over to checkout the Cyclone roller coaster, now closed and looking sad. Taking a step, our lady of Rockford missed that she was standing on a curb and planted her face on the pavement. At first I was so relieved it wasn’t me who fell this time, I shook myself back to reality and together we all helped her stand and assess her injuries. She split open her forehead which needed immediate attention.

My siblings (especially my sisters), will attest to the number of times I slipped and fell my way through Ireland, spun out on the dance floor of a family wedding and did a “Velma from Scooby-Doo” search for my glasses. There was also the time… In the words of my favorite Southern Cousin Rita, “Well it just isn’t a party ’til somebody hits the floor!”

If that was to be the case for this trip – we were off to a great start!

To be continued….

(Note: This happened a couple weeks before the tragic terror attack in Manhattan on Halloween. As I write this I shudder at how at any moment, anything can happen to anyone.)

Photo by me! Who would have thought?