Did someone say Belize?!?

Posted on October 17, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

I don’t know what’s happening. I just bought a plane ticket and I’m leaving for Belize in two weeks.

Yesterday the owner of my agency said a colleague could no longer take the trip, so the spot was open if anyone wanted it.

I watched as one advisor after another said they wished they could go, but couldn’t.

I looked at my calendar. Nothing there aside from a MILLION kids’ activities.

I reached out to our family childcare support. They were a go.

Now I needed to run it by Captain when he got home from work. I wrote on our white board on the fridge: “???BELIZE???” With that many question marks. As if I’d forget to talk about it.

I was on the fence. I just got home from Italy and I’m headed to the Swiss/Austrian Alps the beginning of December. I don’t want to burden my family too much.

Captain thought I should go.

That’s all I needed to hear!

Just when I thought my body was settling into winter-sweatsuit mode, we are back in a bikini, headed for the second largest barrier reef in the world and the best diving in the western hemisphere.

I will continue to shave my legs.

I am not a last minute type of person. I’m a planner. Go figure.

I have been shocked by how many clients book last minute trips. This is great for them and I’m very happy to do it.

My ideal time frame for planning trips for my own family is six months to over a year away. I had my eye on the Galápagos two years before we took the trip. And right now I’ve got my eye on Africa 2027.

I have never in my life booked a flight for myself two weeks before I leave.

Here I am. Ticketed. I just need to shave my legs and repack my freshly put away summer wardrobe.

I’m in excited disbelief that I’m leaving the country again so soon. I said to Captain,

“Who am I? I’m some new version of Jessica.”

“No! You’re the old Jessica!”

That’s right! I AM the old Jessica. Past Jessica’s passport was so full she had to send it away for more pages.

The main difference is that twenty-something-year-old Jessica did not have the word “luxury” associated with any part of her travels. Although she did as a child and she was luxury adjacent during her summer as a deckhand/stewardess on a yacht in the south of France.

Present, middle-aged Jessica has adapted well to the change.

I’m still, as Captain would say, rugged. I can carry my own luggage. But if someone wants to carry it for me, who am I to say no? And there’s nothing wrong with a chocolate on my pillow at night.

BB is not pleased that I’m peacing out again, but the promise of a Belizean stuffie is helping my case.

Are you thinking about somewhere warm? Maybe the Caribbean or maybe somewhere else nearby? Do you want adventure, culture, beach, jungle and amazing sea life?

Yes please!

I leave the day after Halloween. It’s daylight savings weekend. We gain an hour. My kids will be complete, post-Halloween trash and not my problem.

See you soon Belize!

If you need me, I can plan your trip from here!

T-minus three days until I ditch my family for TWO weeks

Posted on September 11, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

The owner of my agency recommends at least one travel conference a year. I was accepted to one in Sardinia.

Before and after the conference, there are familiarization trips. I was accepted to one of those, too! Once I’m there, I might as well scope out the whole island.

I was worried that being gone for two weeks would be too long. Captain offered,

“How could you not do it?”

That’s right! How could I not? And without a second thought I confirmed everything.

Now that I see the calendar for the next two weeks, please wish my family luck.

Between my two children there are: 6 swim practices, 2 swim lessons, 2 artistic swim classes, 6 soccer practices, 4 Hebrew school classes, 2 drama kids classes, 2 curriculum nights, one day of school pictures, and a side of Rosh Hashanah.

Putting that in all in one sentence may have been a mistake. We sound like crazy people.

I swear it feels more manageable on a day-to-day basis. Although I’ve only been doing it for one week, and now it’s someone else’s problem.

Monday night I was headed into Boston for work, and Captain, BB, and RB were headed to RB’s soccer practice. I said,

“Don’t forget you need a soccer ball and two chairs.”

They left with three chairs and no soccer ball.

So that’s how I anticipate the next couple weeks may go.

The other morning I was sitting on the couch with my coffee, a hotel website open in front of me. RB snuggled up, saw my computer, and said,

“Again?!? I thought you retired.”

Just getting started.

After this Sardinia trip, I was accepted for a ski trip in Austria and Switzerland. Which brings me back to our recent visit to the ski store.

Thirteen years ago I met Captain skiing. We skied as much as possible. I invested in new ski boots. They were comfortable, performed well, and were a pretty white-turquoise color.

Ten years ago I got pregnant with BB. My feet grew. I went from a size 10 to a size 11. My feet never went back.

I needed all new shoes. Not the worst thing in the world, but I was loathe to spend $500 on a new pair of ski boots. Especially when at this point, with a new baby, I was lucky if I were skiing four days a season.

Each year when I squeezed my feet into my too-small boots, Captain would ask,

“Are you going to get a new pair?”

“Maybe, but doesn’t seem worth it.”

Then another pregnancy, so no skiing, then COVID, so more no skiing. Then back to skiing and good grief the boots are still SO SMALL. Maybe it’s time for new boots?

Nope. Last year we decided to save all of our money for the Galápagos and did not go skiing.

Skipping a year made me realize how much I miss skiing! Now here comes the 25/26 season, and we already have 14 ski days on the books. It is time for new boots.

At the end of August I booked two separate appointments: a daytime rental appointment for the kiddos and an evening, boot fitting for myself. I imagined returning to the store childless to try on boots in peace.

We got the kids sorted out. The ski-store guy asked me,

“You’re looking for new boots, too, right?”

“Yes, but I was thinking I’d come back later without them.” I waved my hand in the general direction of my children clomping around the store. The guy said,

“They seem fine. Do you want to try some on?”

“If you say so.”

My children, still in their ski boots, proceeded to stomp laps, then it was quiet, and all I could see was BB’s head popping up in the middle of one of those spinning, clothes racks.

If this is the sales guy’s idea of “they’re fine,” then so be it.

He measured my foot, and looked at the sizing on my old boot. He was shocked,

“They’re so small for you! How could you ski in these?!”

“I don’t know.”

As my toes luxuriated in the spaciousness of the new boots, I looked at my color options: black, gray, and maroon. I asked,

“Are there other color options?”

“I’m afraid not. You’re into unisex sizing now.”

Apparently white-turquoise is not a unisex color.

I settled for comfort and performance in a unisex black.

As I flexed into my new boots, the sales guy noticed my quads and said,

“What do you do to work out?”

“I walk.”

“You’re in this shape from just walking?”

At which point both kids pipe up from under the snowpants rack,

“She walks with a weighted vest!”

I do now.

I walk with a weighted vest, wear unisex ski boots, and explore Sardinia for two weeks without my family.

I’m some new version of the old me.

Except I’m going to check a bag, which is anathema to my being.

After a two-week sabbatical, the least I can do for my family is make sure my suitcase has enough room to bring home all the free, travel tchotchkes I accumulate at the conference.

They can thank me later.

Traveling carry-on only in Mali. Apparently not a unisex backpack

Luxury Adventure, who wants in?

Posted on March 13, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

And so we’re home. For now. I leave for Croatia in three weeks. By myself. For work.

I need to go: hiking, biking, kayaking, white-water rafting, oyster sampling, private yacht chartering, horseback riding, so that I’ll be able to advise you on the best Croatian trip possible.

I’m leaving my babies behind. These are the sacrifices I must make.

It is bittersweet. I would love to do this adventure with my whole family. Someday we can. BUT in the meantime, I’ll bring them back some candy.

RB loves candy. She’s been counting her future Easter eggs ever since her Halloween candy ran out months ago.

BB will not be so easily won over, but there must be a Croatian stuffy to be had.

As for Captain, my gift to him will be my return. He’s concerned I’m not going to survive white-water rafting. He insisted on travel insurance so there will be funds for the repatriation of my body.

The fact that I’ve gone white-water rafting before and in higher-class rapids, does not seem to reassure him.

I also went white-water boogie boarding and again, here I am.

I’m a luxury travel advisor, but when encouraged to pick a specialization, I created: “Luxury Adventure Specialist.”

Captain agreed that that was a good fit for me.

I’m not sure what it means, but it sure sounds like someone who stays in 5-star hotels and goes white-water rafting.

That can be you too. Or luxury hotels and yoga. Or luxury hotels and a safari. The adventure options are really endless.

I just applied for a trip that’s 5-star hotels and skiing. Keeping my adventure options open.

That required a two-minute video application. I emerged from my room after an hour of filming myself.

Feeling ridiculous and self-conscious I checked in with Captain,

“I finished my video application.”

“Oh you did?”

“You didn’t hear me?!”

“No! I thought you were in a meeting.”

A meeting with myself where I say the same thing over and over again, hoping somehow that the millionth try will be acceptable to whatever nebulous standard I’m holding myself to.

It is done and sent off. With any luck I’ll add Austria to my list of upcoming adventures, after Sardinia this September.

Good times with Jess and sometimes her family, but not always.