While enjoying a walk around Bridgetown, Barbados, we stopped for some refreshments and a charter boat pulls up to the dock. We sat there and watched while three Wahoo Kingfish were filleted and delivered to our restaurant. Fresh, indeed.

The next morning in Bridgetown, Barbados, at the Hilton,  Flip is still excited about his room and asked if he can just stay. We remind him he need to get out and see the island before catching the boat. With some regret, he does get out of bed and started the day.

After a long couple of days traveling to Barbados, we survived a harrowing taxi ride to the Barbados Hilton. We wound up waiting in line quite awhile, as they were checking lots of flight attendants and crews out. But, once we go to the front, our checker-in guy got a funny look on his face, left with Carl’s ID, finally came back and informed us we had not only been upgraded, but we had what was basically the Presidential Suite. Two other managers came over to congratulate us and share fist bumps. It really was like winning the lottery, and we were sorely tempted to skip the cruise to stay in our four balconied set of rooms and monster bath suite.

Thanks, Hilton! It was the bomb!   

Leaving the hotel at 3:45 started this leg of the trip. No shuttle so we had to get a cab at the last minute. Not a big deal, it’s only a 3-minute ride from the hotel.
Next check in: I’m sorry we can’t find your reservation. You will need to talk to the agent. They start at 4.
While standing in line we met a nice lady with a German shepherd puppy going to Argentina.
Then a short wait for TSA to open, another wait for the coffee stand to open and then we are finally at the gate at 5.

Flip, hanging out on the side watching the Seahawks.

After retracing our steps several times at PDX and turning TSA into my own personal investigative force, earning my a “Sorry, sweetheart” at my third visit, I resigned myself to a squinting holiday. Until we landed at Reagan Airport in Washington, D.C., when Carl reached into his jacket pocket and proffered the previously panic-producing pupil pals. Yup. Who would have thought to look there? Certainly not Flip, who proudly acts like he solved this mystery by his very own self. My I need Carl to help with luggage, so strangling is out. Let the play begin!

They say in Portland, trash is gold.

Carl

Flip models Laura’s new pair of cheaters and sips a British Mary (made with Tanqueray) after Laura lost her second pair of prescription glasses in a couple of days. It’s all ok, right? Vacation time! Happy Thanksgiving!