Worthless as an Ashtray on a Motorcyle

So, I just returned from my very first, all-inclusive resort experience, which was way beyond my raising. Really, I shouldn’t even speak of it. However, I’m curious.

Apparently, I am a big deal with Thirty-One Gifts, and earned an all expense paid trip to the Hard Rock Resort in Cancun, Mexico. Believe it or not, I almost passed on this trip. The thought of preparing for a week away and facing the fallout was about too much to bear. Whatever, I ponied up and went.

The morning of departure, I was ready to book an earlier return flight. It was 4 am and two hours of sleep was just not going to cut it. After 4 hours of waiting at the airport, I finally boarded the plane and sat next to total strangers on my way to paradise. Fast forward two hours. I landed in Cancun, got body raped by twenty locals trying to convince me that they were my ride to the resort, aka human slavery. Thankfully, Thirty-One had actually included a picture of their man at the airport, so I had tunnel-vision for him and him, alone. I get on the bus, was offered a warm towel (not sure why)….was told another hour and ten minutes, I would be where I need to be.

Then, I arrived. Red carpets, waiters with champagne and strangers clapped my way from the bus to the check-in counter. I’m fairly certain the heavens opened up and I heard angels sing. My luggage was an after-thought, when it was delivered to my room. I had only seconds to glance down at my feet to find only ratty flip-flops, instead of ruby slippers. This was my first glance at my alternate reality for the next six days.

In hindsight, this was my first moment of ungratefulness, camouflaged in awe. This was their first jab.

For the next six days, I had FREE drinks, room service, five-star resort food, mini bar, robes, slippers, cabana boys by the lagoon, etc  My shower was so perfect with multiple spickets, so I didn’t even have to scrub. If I chose to walk more than ten feet, there was a golf cart waiting for me. If I couldn’t choose between desserts or appetizers, I was brought both. I couldn’t decide between manis, pedis, hydrotherapy and massages, so I just used my room credit and enjoyed them all. If I needed a snack after ten feet of walking, there was a buffet of choices. There were guys to clean the seaweed from the lagoon…really,…true story. My flesh was so sacred, people were keeping fungus from touching it – or so I chose to believe.

After it’s all said and done…is it worth it? Should it be allowed that people are treated this way? I mean, really….think about it. If I had ever been incited to violence, it was upon my return.

Shouldn’t “All-inclusive” include a debriefing session? Are we that careless with the American people??

Let’s Run It Up A Flagpole And See Who Salutes!

Sorry about the delay in posts, motherhood has totally interfered with my writing! Plus I have been spending my spare time, working on my non-fiction novel that I hope one day actually comes to fruition.  Anyhoo…. I am switching our focus to surviving in foreign lands, as the first time that I flew, I boarded a plane to Paris, France.  Hey…  A Country Girl Can Survive … Europe!

Every now and then, a Country Girl gets froggy and attempts life overseas. I am proof that this can be done, although success is in the eye of the beholder! lol Lots of ground to cover here, so let’s start with language.  Us Country Girls have obviously mastered our native lingo from the mountains and suffered countless remarks when we express anything in verbal form in the city. But hey, our language is yet another thing that sets us apart from others. However, when you visit a non-English speaking country, be prepared for your language to be your handicap. I mean, we can all learn how to speak, write and read a language, but the key is in the delivery. So when we say, “Paaaarlaaayyy Voooo,” our accent may throw out the actually subject verb agreement that those folks are used to. No worries, as us girls are resourceful and we “can survive.”

1.  Freshen up on your charade skills! When all else fails, you can act out what you are trying to say! Carry a map with you when you travel. It’s very inconvenient when you buy a train ticket to Lyon, France; when you actually live in Lille, France. Trust me on this.

2.  Next, we should talk about food. We are super proud of our fried chicken and grits or biscuits and gravy, as we should be. Just remember that folks overseas are also very proud of their mussels, frits, calamari, etc and when you ask the waiter for ketchup, just know that you just spit in their face.  Also, I know this goes against every single fiber in your being, but DO NOT USE YOUR HANDS TO EAT. Was that clear, or should I repeat? I will anyway – DO NOT USE YOUR HANDS TO EAT!!!!!! I don’t care if its a cheeseburger, french fries or pizza. Trust me, they don’t care either. These foreign folks put forks and knives at your place setting and want to see them in action. Like, with everything. There are a couple of times that your hands are allowed but you won’t understand, so just don’t do it!!

3.  Forget about the “normal” times to eat. Foreign folks don’t get in a hurry about any of their meals and each meal may take hours to complete or even to get started. So my advice: snack beforehand – a lot. It may very well be 10pm before you eat supper. Over yonder, they focus on the time that you have together and once you get used to this, enjoy the wine!

4. Tea. If you don’t like it…learn to. This is a part of every single day. And “biscuits” are actually cookies, so don’t embarass yourself. It’s often customary for each person to bring their own “tea and biscuits” so don’t show up with BISCUITS! Really, it’s not what they mean.

5. Tea don’t mean Sweet Tea. The End.

This post was getting lengthy, so I’ll split it in two. Have any of you ever traveled abroad? What were your experiences?