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.
I’m home! Captain said it felt like I’d been gone a month.
It took me a full week to readjust.
I mostly readjusted the minute I made physical contact with my children, but it took me this long to sit down and write a blog post.
Two-hour pasta lunches with a bottomless glass of wine followed by three-hour dinners with a bottomless glass of wine is really not a sustainable lifestyle. But it was an amazing way to spend a couple weeks!
Sardinia is the second largest island in the Mediterranean just south of Corsica and west of Italy. It has a gorgeous coastline, stunning mountains, long lifespans and an ancient heritage of amazing food unique from mainland Italy.
I explored Sardinia with travel designers from Italy, Venezuela, Mexico, Argentina, Portugal, Germany, Ukraine, Russia and one from twenty minutes up the road from me.
Those countries, all in the same group, may make you pause. I did. They’re all amazing people and I was lucky to spend time with them.
I also feel lucky that I was well received. Americans are not the most beloved right now.
And I thought for sure I’d be the only Jew of the group “working” on Rosh Hashanah. I was nowhere near my temple, but I did join the virtual children’s service for a minute between meetings.
Lo and behold I was lucky enough to find out that my new friend from Venezuela is Jewish! A Jewish Venezuelan is not a combo I was expecting.
I was distracted by my news feed and our politics that lack basic human decency. It feels like everything is spiraling downwards. I kept trying to refocus: my bowl of pasta, my delicious espresso, the sexiest cooking class I’ve ever taken.
I mean that. I was looking decidedly not sexy, but our teacher, she was another story. It’s called pasta therapy:
At home I cook occasionally because we need to eat and because if I try to serve one more peanut butter and jelly sandwich there may be a mutiny.
But for me, being sexy and cooking never happen simultaneously.
As I fumbled through making fancy pasta shapes, I was definitely in the moment, so it may deserve its therapeutic claims.
Last year I traveled to Croatia for work, carry-on only. BIG MISTAKE. I left home without an ounce of room in my suitcase. I received so much free swag and people at home were waiting for things and I had NO ROOM.
I vowed not to make that mistake again. For Sardinia I checked a small bag and also had a small carry-on. Both were half empty in anticipation of lots of free goodies.
Clothing-wise I still only packed as much as I would’ve if I’d been traveling carry-on only. For two weeks I planned to rewear everything twice if not three times. As I am always happy to do.
If I can enjoy a month-and-a-half overland safari alternating between two shirts, then the amount of clothing I took for Sardinia was really overkill.
But it quickly felt inadequate. My previous travel style collided with my current travel style.
Not only were my new friends wearing new outfits everyday, they had a nice outfit for daytime touring (which I would’ve called nice enough for dinner) and then an even nicer outfit for our lovely dinners.
I was taking my daytime outfit, adding a sweater and earrings and calling it my new dinner outfit. I kept wishing I had taken a medium-sized suitcase.
After a phone call home bemoaning all my decisions, I headed to dinner wearing my favorite dress for the third time. One of the women exclaimed,
“I love your dress! Is it new?”
No! Not only is it four years old, but I’ve already worn it for two other dinners this week! Proof that no one is paying as much attention as you think they are and maybe my suitcase choice was ok after all.
I left home with an idea that I’d like to buy a new dress if at all possible. As the week went on, it started to seem like it might not be possible.
The days were relaxing in the sense that I was walking around beautiful Sardinia, eating amazing food and talking to wonderful people, but there was very little free time with which to shop.
Near the end of the first week, we checked into what would be my favorite resort of the trip. As we walked into the lobby, in the store window, there was a beachy, floor-length, pink and white dress that was calling to me.
I said “I’ll be back if I can!”
I got a free minute and I dashed into the store. I peered around. Nothing resembled that dress. I peered back out at the window and asked the shopkeeper,
“Is that dress for this store?”
“Yes! It’s our last one and it’s your size.”
How does she know my size? I give her a skeptical look. She adds,
“It’s a medium.”
Ooooh she’s good.
Next thing I know, the mannequin’s arms are on the ground and the dress is in my hands. As I began the checkout process the kind woman asks me,
“Do you have Global Blue?”
“What?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“For your tax refund?”
“Tax refund?”
She looks perplexed and I feel like an idiot.
So now I know that it’s possible to get a tax refund on purchases over a certain amount. In Italy it’s over €70. Every country has a different amount.
The shopkeeper is so incredulous she asks me,
“How come you’ve never used Global Blue before?”
“I guess I haven’t done that much shopping.”
The truth is I haven’t done much shopping at the price point required to receive refunds.
The woman shakes her head and admonishes me,
“Italy is very good for shopping.”
“Yes, I see that.”
My suitcase fit all my wonderful freebies: wine, liqueur, jewelry, reindeer-skin luggage tags, candles, chocolates, bags and I bought two stuffed flamingos for my children. Sardinia is known for its flamingos. I did not know this.
My exploration of Sardinia was followed by an intense few days of one-on-one meetings with luxury travel suppliers from all over the world. It was simultaneously exhausting and energizing. There are endless, amazing adventures to add to your list!
Now I’m home, I caught my breath, I emptied my small suitcase and I am packing it back up.
We’re off to NYC for RB’s 6th birthday!
Cala di VolpeI had this many one-on-one meetings with travel suppliers!
RB’s interpretation of ready for New York City. This is a very large suitcase relative to her doll’s size, so it is safe to say her doll overpacked.
Croatia! It was not on my radar, but it should’ve been.
It’s a gorgeous country: beautiful mountains, medieval cities and the clearest turquoise water. Amazing food, wine, hotels and people. Perfect for relaxing and adventure!
And considering adventure is my speciality, you can trust me on this.
Here I am, alive, post white-water rafting.
The rafting trip I did is recommended for kids as young as eight. So while it was super fun and exciting, it was not a life-threatening adrenaline rush.
For this pre-season rafting trip it was more: I’d rather not capsize, not because I might die, but because, despite my wetsuit, I will be chilly.
RB, my youngest, may or may not have missed me. BB, my eight-year old said that a week without me was:
“Really fun and slightly depressing.”
For me the week was a dream come true with pangs of missing my family.
After years of solo travel, I thought wandering through the airport alone would be a non-event. Instead I felt oddly untethered.
I kept peering around as if maybe I’d forgotten a child somewhere.
There was no one to feed, clothe, attend to but myself. No butts to wipe aside from my own.
And even when I’m home, I know the bum-wiping days are numbered. Maybe one day I’ll look back in nostalgia at impatient RB, in downward dog, waddling with her naked butt in the air into the kitchen. All because I didn’t not go running to the bathroom the minute she hollered.
It was a luxurious week of 4 and 5-star hotel rooms all to myself. That combined with hiking, biking, rafting, boating, exploring, relaxing and eating, was a combination I highly recommend.
This is the hard work I’m doing.
So while Croatia would be a wonderful family trip, it would also make for a fabulous friend/mom trip, and leave the bum wiping behind.
Next work trip is in September to Sardinia. I’m sure I’ll be ready for another kid-free week by then.
WHAT A TRIP! Several weeks ago, we left Boston for Quito, Ecuador. Our three hour layover in Miami ended up being a run from one end of the airport to the other to catch our next flight.
The kids were supposed to hang back with Captain as he hauled along our carryons and I was running ahead to catch the plane.
I’m not sure what I was planning to do when I caught the plane all by myself. Maybe I was headed to the Galapagos without my family? I don’t know. But I didn’t have to worry about it, because RB was right on my heels.
I told her,
“I’m going to run, you stay with Dad.”
“I can run too!”
And it’s true. She can run. I sighed. I’d probably spend more time arguing than just running. So I ran. She ran and BB, not to be left behind, ran too.
At some point BB started to get farther and farther behind. Then RB got a cramp and whined,
“Can you carry me?”
So we walked and we made it. Despite everyone wanting to stop at the Lego Store.
We spent two days in Quito, 10,000 feet above sea level and we reached 12,000 feet above sea level at the top of the Pichincha volcano. I may never know how much higher we’d have to go for RB to stop running off. She was the only one NOT out of breath.
She ran everywhere and was determined to be the leader. I was much more worried about breathing than keeping track of her.
She’s still with us.
We flew from Quito to Isla San Cristóbal in the Galápagos. See flight path map below to answer any questions about where the heck we were.
My kids may or may not have grasped it. At some point mid-trip they were surprised to learn we were swimming in the Pacific ocean.
I’m not sure how long I’d have to stay in the Galápagos to get used to sea lions being standard members of society. As in,
“Excuse me sea lion, thanks for letting me share your infrastructure.”
And after seeing the massive amount of pee that came out of one sea lion on a public street bench, I was hard pressed to sit down anywhere without overthinking it.
You don’t want to know how many sea lion photos I took. I will tell you I took a total of 2,600 photos and videos over the course of our two week trip. DON’T WORRY, I’ve culled it down to my most favorite 1,020.
Disembarking
Yes there were sharks. Yes we swam with them. Captain’s anxiety was momentarily mitigated when he was told that only baby sharks are in the warm, shallow water. Meanwhile at a shallow overlook RB shouted,
“That’s a big one!”
I missed it, but Captain was sure to tell me,
“It was at least five feet long. It was NOT a baby.”
Shark food headed in
Halfway through the trip I realized we weren’t going to need all 80 packages of Ritz cheese crackers I had packed. RB branched out. She ate: pineapple, assorted cookies, juice, spoonfuls of jam at breakfast and she liked fish! Especially the one featured below.
It was a giant, delicious, fried fish.
Now RB keeps asking me to make it for her. As in,
“Are you going to make me my favorite fish?”
TBD
For whatever reason, when I ordered octopus, no one even wanted to try it. So I didn’t have to share that.
We hiked, snorkeled, swam, ate, beached, boated, kayaked, relaxed, shopped AND slept. Some. I woke my family up early so many times, that by the end of the trip RB took herself to bed at 6pm and said,
“I need to go to sleep because you’re going to be waking me up to go on a boat.”
Yes. Yes I am.
After Isla San Cristóbal we took the public ferry to Isla Santa Cruz. It is recommended to take sea sickness medication. I popped one pill first thing in the morning because for the whole trip up until this point, one pill per day made me feel fine.
It should be noted that the Dramamine fine print says take one OR TWO tablets per day. This public ferry ride was a two tablet day. I will NOT make that mistake again.
The good news is BB took one pill and felt great the whole time. When we arrived, she climbed off of my lap, I threw out my vomit bag and she let out a relaxed sigh,
“Ah, that was a nice power nap.”
We journeyed into the highlands to see the mythical giant tortoises. We lucked out and saw two mating. SLOWLY. Thrust. Rest. Thrust. Rest. Rest. Turns out it takes about 1.5 hours.
If you’re going to live to 200, what’s the rush?
Slow and steady
Plus they spend no time taking care of their progeny. They lay their eggs and godspeed to those tiny, baby tortoises.
Meanwhile the sea lions are nursing their young until they’re three years old. They reach maturity at 4-5 years so a 3-year-old sea lion is just about full grown.
The pups are almost as big as their amazingly accommodating moms. It would be like if we nursed our 12-year-olds.
That or cart around several industrial size boxes of ritz crackers. I slowly downsized and as we said goodbye to each hotel, we left a trail of unopened cracker packages.
Plus I needed somewhere to put souvenirs. Everyone in my family wanted to know,
“What are you going to do with that: sea lion, tortoise, sea turtle, blue footed booby, you name it, I bought it?”
I’m going to do nothing with them except add them to my tchotchke collection. I will feel a warm glow of happiness every time I make eye contact with my Galápagos-engraved, stainless steel, sea lion, who may or may not still be nursing.
Meanwhile we came home with 3 stuffed tortoises, 1 stuffed penguin, 1 stuffed sea lion, 1 stuffed blue footed booby backpack and 1 stuffed blue footed booby key chain. All for my children.
And goodness knows what they’re going to do with all those.
The penguin and sea lion were last minute airport purchases. They NEEDED them so badly that they spent their own money to get them. This is what happens when flights are delayed.
At which point there was ZERO room left in our luggage so we added the stuffies to our carry-on juggling show.
On our second to last day we started our journey home from Isla Isabela, with all of our luggage. It went as follows and I’m NOT exaggerating:
Taxi pick-up truck
Water taxi
Ferry to Santa Cruz – 2 hours
Water taxi
3 block walk with luggage because there was a giant parade celebrating the Galápagos. I’m all for it.
Taxi pick-up trucks – 40 minutes (Put kids in separate pick-up truck from me, great decision.)
Ferry to Baltra – 10 minutes
Shuttle bus
Plane from Baltra to Quito – 3.5 hours
Van to hotel (slept and repeated the next day.) (Well just repeated the plane part to get from Quito to home via Miami.) (We had time for the Lego store.)
Back home BB was excited to add photo captions to share with her class. On a tortoise photo she said,
“How about I write that Galápagos means tortoise?”
“It does?”
BB looked at me like I was crazy. She nodded slowly,
“It does.”
“How do you know that?”
“I was paying attention.”
The internet confirmed: “The word “Galápagos” comes from the Spanish word galapago, which means “tortoise” or “saddle”. The islands are named after the giant tortoises that live there.”
Sounds like an amazing place.
It was a dream-come-true trip and I’m so happy I was able to do it with my babies. I’m also so happy they’re back in school. Home sweet home.
Mid epic journey homeIt is the rainy seasonIsland taxi! See your luxury travel architect for more carseat safety tips
Good Times with Jess 