One time SuperK and I repeated a vacation, escaping the cold of The Old City for a nice, warm beach. We explored the area and had a jolly good time, such a good time that we decided to return the next winter. Alas, it was a little boring so we haven't retraced our steps ever again. The good news is that we're rarely bored - the bad news is that we're frequently stressed.
On the plane home I normally start dreaming about the next adventure but this trip had worn me totally out so I was in no hurry to go anywhere anytime soon. This attitude lasted almost a week - all I can remember now is the good stuff and the bad stuff? The best stories, of course.
On one of my other Over The Edge vacations - to the rain forest with Little Westside Jonny - we had to leave our camp, if by "camp" you mean "rat-infested, tarantula-crawling, armadillo-snorting, not enough food or water outdoor shack compound" very early in the morning. The trip was going to start in the dark and as I tried to drift off the night before on my filthy 2 inch thick mattress lying on a wooden pallet, I could hear the people responsible for extracting us from our misery getting increasingly drunk outside, strumming guitars and hooting and caterwauling in a not-reassuring fashion.
LWSJ and I climbed into our motorized canoe in the pre-dawn darkness and began a high speed dash down a winding creek full of logs and tree branches and watery detritus of all shape and form. It's a great story today but I'll tell you this: sitting in a canoe on the move, wondering whether to keep my eyes closed to avoid getting my corneas lacerated with tree branches or to keep my eyes open so I wouldn't whomp my noggin on the fallen trees that were suspended over the creek was not the kind of decision I wanted to be forced into. One of my favorite stories today and I believe most of it is true, not a result to be sniffed at.
Corneas? In good shape. Noggin? Un-whomped.
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