How Well Do You Travel?

This week we're preparing for a week at the "beach".

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I should explain why I put "beach" in quotation marks. I'm a Floridian, born and bred. I grew up 45 minutes from Daytona Beach. To me a beach has salt water lapping at it and washing over the carefully constructed sand castles. If there's no tide, is it really a beach? In high school my best friend and I were known, once I had my driver's license and a car, to cut classes and go lie on the beach all afternoon. I had the burns to prove it. I have the basal cell carcinoma excisions to prove it.
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Okay, I'll stop being a snob. I'll say lake, you can say beach. It's not much different from how we refer to the mountain cottage or cabin, when it's really a beautifully decorated and fully equipped two-bedroom house.

We're going to Lake Erie for a week. The Jazzman and all his friends have been making this trek for years. They all know each other well. They are used to traveling and vacationing together.

I've traveled as far as Cleveland with them before, but that involved hotel rooms—each couple in their own room. This involves several shared houses. I'm the new kid on the block. They don't know what to expect from me. Do I snore? Do I hog the sole bathroom? Do I drain the water heater? Do I sleep 'til noon or rise at 4:30 a.m. to make lots of noise?

J.R. (who died twelve years ago today, may he rest in peace) and I traveled with friends and adult family several times. The classic story is the first trip to Hilton Head, when we drove the other couple's RV down and it had serious engine problems once on Hilton Head. The mechanic had to come to the condo to discuss the problem with the vehicle's owner, who was sitting on the couch in the living room, unabashedly flossing his teeth.

Okay, if flossing your teeth in public is the worst thing you do, that's not too bad. This guy also berated his wife morning, noon and night. Now that got real old!

I believe I'm a considerate fellow traveler, and I think I'm pretty flexible. And I always want to make a good impression, so there should be no problems.

After all, we already have reservations for New Year's week on Hilton Head Island, and we want to take friends along, so it's in my best interest to be a good housemate.

Oh, the picture on today's post? That would be the Jazzman, in all his summer-vacation-at-the-beach glory. I think the coming week is going to be filled with laughs!

(Thanks, Amy H., for the photo.)

(And you're wondering about the couple with the unkind, berating husband? They divorced a few years later. Understandably!)