We Arrive Too Late to See Horseshoe Crabs
“It’s us.”
(No need for a link on this one. Pick any travelogue and go to the first day for a good example.)
We remembered multiple
things at the last minute, many of which we placed into our vehicle. This included the sandwich for our child who
would be starving after the extensive dancing that evening. We left the house around the same time
Anabelle’s class should have ended.
Luckily, the dancers
and instructors were all passionate about their love of dance and thrilled to
be back in the studio together. They ended late as well, making it look like we
were on time.
Ta Da!
It was an uneventful and
clear ride. We went with a mix of novelty and normal, but all music this time.
Anabelle and Rosa napped a bit and I did not, which is the best way for that to
go.
The temperature unseasonably
dropped as we travelled southwards, and we were faced with a dilemma as we
drove on Highway 30 at the entrance to the city proper.
Do we bear the ambient
temperatures and freeze by doing nothing?
Or
Do we bear the ambient smells and choke by turning the heat on?
We varied between the two,
bringing the window fog to near opaque, and threatening the uneventfulness of
the ride. This was one of our latest
arrival times, and having the building signs turned off proved to add difficulty
as well. (Make a right at the giant naked lady, then a left at the giant “Jesus" sign became almost impossible to execute. This town continues to really have no idea of
its identity.)
We entered by the Havana
tower as always.
Aside: this “always” may change. When Rosa found a second secret passage, she also found a parking garage next to the West Tower, the one where we usually stay, that we had no idea existed. Research for Grids is helpful.
Rosa went through the
Quarter and casino to get our keys in the main lobby, since the reservation was
in her name. Anabelle and I stayed on the bench some of us inevitably use at
the start and end of any trip when others (Fine…me) run to the bathroom.
We were listening to a
nearby piano bar and resting. We must have looked horribly frazzled and
exhausted. A very nice and very inebriated woman drinking some concoction out
of an actual pineapple exited the elevator near us. She then asked a large number of times if we
were sure we were okay, before ascending the stairs (which would take her back to where she entered the elevator) to return to the Quarter
Nightclubs.
Rosa came back just as we
noticed a puddle under the carry on luggage we used to store the two gallons of water
for our room. Then it became a race
to the elevator for the West Tower and our room as we left a wet trail behind
us.
All of our rolling luggage
snagged on something that damaged them in the parking garage. The issues ranged from slight rips to the gallon
puncture of the smallest bag. We dumped
what was left of that gallon into the plug-in teakettle we brought to test out for Anabelle's dorm room, and set
about our usual arrival tasks.
Once extra cleaning and
mattress lifting was complete we continued our late night vacation tradition of
collapsing for the night.
Or
Do we bear the ambient smells and choke by turning the heat on?
Aside: this “always” may change. When Rosa found a second secret passage, she also found a parking garage next to the West Tower, the one where we usually stay, that we had no idea existed. Research for Grids is helpful.
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