Family vacation

So there I was sitting by the ocean, amazed at how I managed to get there.

My home had been filled with non-stop company since my son’s graduation and I was ready for a break.

“Since I am the Marriott of the family,” my mom says. “I suggest a nice extended vacation trip up the coast.”

I was tired and could manage the time off, but I just didn’t know about three very different families, all with a strong Greek heritage, all joined together and bonding. It could be okay, but then again there could be some bloodshed. My solution: take my own jeep. The Marriott was already surfing the net for accommodations and travel suggestions. She found a nice looking little B&B. While the pictures were lovely, I was worried that their photographer sold real estate and had made them a tad better than real life. We could end up in Hooterville sleeping next to Jed Clampett, but we were all in for the adventure.

I suggested that we rally at the local convenience store and stock up with snacks. If I can get lost in Eldred I was not going into the northern unknown without provisions. A short time into the journey, someone in the lead car was hungry. I shouted loudly, as if anyone could hear me… “Remember the rule!” Never turn off a highway if you can’t see an Exxon sign or those golden arches.

Too late. The lead car was touring Danbury, Connecticut trying to find the highway. The barbed wire around the buildings was unnerving to my teen, who grabbed the cell phone and started frantically calling the other family members. I was a little relieved, as it seemed to be a genetic condition. After all these years of getting lost, now I know its been in the DNA all along.

Lucky break, we found the B&B with time to do a little bit of touring before dinner. The owner of the place was nice and didn’t resemble anyone from Hooterville, but she insisted that it was a cultured place and that they all had class. I get alarmed when people tell you they have class, but I was the tourist.

We couldn’t wait to get to the town of Mystic. My whole family loves the sea and we couldn’t wait to dig into the maritime culture. The realtors in the family headed for the main street. Our guys seem to be wandering in a different direction. They were lured to the sea and to the dry dock area. Looking at our guys we just had to chuckle, knowing its that guy thing. That irresistible urge to see shiny trucks, or in this case, fishing boats. I heard one of them say how he could build a boat like that and someday will.

At the inn, we gathered on the comfy front porch and added an evening sip of sherry to the setting sun and the smell of the sea.

In the morning, there was a big day ahead, yet there was one problem. Breakfast was at 9:30 and family bonding calls for caffeine. I saw Dunkin Donuts on the way in. Sure was glad I had my own jeep for sneaking away at 6:00 a.m.!

The breakfast menu sounded nice: fresh fruit with a mint sauce and scrambled eggs and sausage. The owner proudly passed out the fancy servings. I had to wonder if eggs would taste better on plates that George Washington used. I had a thought, one major “oops” and my vacation fund would be gone.

Our hostess passed out our meals and the unthinkable happened. Not a dropped plate, something much worse… someone asked for ketchup. The B&B woman just about dropped a 300-year-old plate on that obviously big faux pas in Connecticut. Thank God no one asked for that funky green stuff Heinz is selling. Mystic Sea Port was nice, while an evening cruise up the coast was the perfect way to finish off the day. The setting sun on the silver masts really gave us a sense of peace. I snapped photos as we glided along the shoreline where wild roses mixed with the rugged landscape. The final hours ended with tales of shipbuilding and hearty dinners of lobster collected in a new book of memories.

 So, graduation was over and vacation was drawing to an end, we hadn’t gotten too lost, no blood had been drawn and we didn’t break any of George’s dishes… all an all, a pretty good couple of days.