Aloha. Apologies this is a touch late, but I was tracking the Hoos win over Cal State Fullerton in the College World Series, which zaps my effectiveness. In true UVA fashion, they waited until I was in London and unable to make the trek to Omaha before they decided to get through a Super Regional. Oh well, better now than never.
So Portugal was awesome.
We took holiday on Friday and caught an 8 AM EasyJet flight out of Gatwick headed to Faro. No need for unnecessary stamps (thank you RyanAir). Anne was so excited that she actually agreed to wake up at 5:15, which is highly unusual. We sailed through passport control and with the driver occasionally clocking 170 kms/hr (in the neighbourhood of 100 mph) while chatting on her mobile, we made it to the hotel by noon.
If there is one benefit to the weeks in Houston, San Fran and Wilmington, Delaware, it’s that frequent guests are much less common in Europe than the US (I think it has something to do with the lower reliance of franchising in the European hotel industry. You can thank Anne for editing out the other 500 words I had on the subject). Consequently, we were upgraded to a double room. As in a double-story, double-bedroom, double-bathroom suite. Being the divas we are, we almost called down to complain that we didn’t have an ocean view. The resort was called Pine Cliff and felt a lot like Sea Pines in Hilton Head, to the point that as we walked by the man-made streams, I was on the lookout for alligators (which don’t exist in Portugal).
We took the elevator down the cliff and hit the beach that afternoon under cloudless skies and in 80 – 83 degree temperatures and a slight breeze. Anne will upload pics later.
The water, on the other hand, was freezing. Like Minnesota lake cold in mid-May. I counted six people who ran from the sand into the waves, only to get three steps in, scream like schoolgirls, pivot and run straight back to the sand. Four were younger than 10 and 2 were named Farrar. I was proud of Anne though, she actually got in up to her ankle on the second try (not much of an ocean person that Anne).
Weather was perfect Friday, partly cloudy Saturday (full beach day with a bottle of wine in the pool watching the sunset) and a bit cloudier Sunday (we were on the beach in the AM). Casper and I got a fair amount of sun, but I doubt we would have made more than a three-placard jump in the Sherwin-Williams book of whites.
Needless to say, everything was going so well that we needed to add some sort of international incident to the mix.
Just when we thought we had the whole flying in Europe thing down, we almost missed our flight home and ran afoul of the Portuguese TSA and Customs officials when we somehow got through security without valid boarding passes. It’s a long story that starts with us changing our flight and ends (I am not lying) with Anne smacking herself in the head with a board. She will have to elaborate how exactly that happened. Nevertheless, we were able to get seats across the aisle from two infants that were able to drown out both the jet engines and my IPod with their wailing.
Our fortunes reversed immediately on English soil. Christmas came early for us and everyone else in Gatwick Express Car #10 on the way home when the ticket seller was unable to make it past Car #9 on the way home. About 2 minutes out, it looked like we were in the clear until the train was held for a platform to clear. The 20 or so people who had yet to buy tickets and were crammed at one end of the train nervously looked around. I counted two larger groups sending a sacrificial lamb to the halfway point to provide additional further insurance that they would not all be ticketed. Luckily, the train started up again and we were safe.
No more trips planned as of yet (at least until the next credit card cycle). On tap next weekend - the Royal Ascot races. I suppose it’s like a buttoned-down Foxfield’s, but we’ll see. Until then, have a great week.
So Portugal was awesome.
We took holiday on Friday and caught an 8 AM EasyJet flight out of Gatwick headed to Faro. No need for unnecessary stamps (thank you RyanAir). Anne was so excited that she actually agreed to wake up at 5:15, which is highly unusual. We sailed through passport control and with the driver occasionally clocking 170 kms/hr (in the neighbourhood of 100 mph) while chatting on her mobile, we made it to the hotel by noon.
If there is one benefit to the weeks in Houston, San Fran and Wilmington, Delaware, it’s that frequent guests are much less common in Europe than the US (I think it has something to do with the lower reliance of franchising in the European hotel industry. You can thank Anne for editing out the other 500 words I had on the subject). Consequently, we were upgraded to a double room. As in a double-story, double-bedroom, double-bathroom suite. Being the divas we are, we almost called down to complain that we didn’t have an ocean view. The resort was called Pine Cliff and felt a lot like Sea Pines in Hilton Head, to the point that as we walked by the man-made streams, I was on the lookout for alligators (which don’t exist in Portugal).
We took the elevator down the cliff and hit the beach that afternoon under cloudless skies and in 80 – 83 degree temperatures and a slight breeze. Anne will upload pics later.
The water, on the other hand, was freezing. Like Minnesota lake cold in mid-May. I counted six people who ran from the sand into the waves, only to get three steps in, scream like schoolgirls, pivot and run straight back to the sand. Four were younger than 10 and 2 were named Farrar. I was proud of Anne though, she actually got in up to her ankle on the second try (not much of an ocean person that Anne).
Weather was perfect Friday, partly cloudy Saturday (full beach day with a bottle of wine in the pool watching the sunset) and a bit cloudier Sunday (we were on the beach in the AM). Casper and I got a fair amount of sun, but I doubt we would have made more than a three-placard jump in the Sherwin-Williams book of whites.
Needless to say, everything was going so well that we needed to add some sort of international incident to the mix.
Just when we thought we had the whole flying in Europe thing down, we almost missed our flight home and ran afoul of the Portuguese TSA and Customs officials when we somehow got through security without valid boarding passes. It’s a long story that starts with us changing our flight and ends (I am not lying) with Anne smacking herself in the head with a board. She will have to elaborate how exactly that happened. Nevertheless, we were able to get seats across the aisle from two infants that were able to drown out both the jet engines and my IPod with their wailing.
Our fortunes reversed immediately on English soil. Christmas came early for us and everyone else in Gatwick Express Car #10 on the way home when the ticket seller was unable to make it past Car #9 on the way home. About 2 minutes out, it looked like we were in the clear until the train was held for a platform to clear. The 20 or so people who had yet to buy tickets and were crammed at one end of the train nervously looked around. I counted two larger groups sending a sacrificial lamb to the halfway point to provide additional further insurance that they would not all be ticketed. Luckily, the train started up again and we were safe.
No more trips planned as of yet (at least until the next credit card cycle). On tap next weekend - the Royal Ascot races. I suppose it’s like a buttoned-down Foxfield’s, but we’ll see. Until then, have a great week.
