By Linda Lovely
My best
vacation ever was the first one I took with my husband. We left Rochester, New
York, when it was still tight in winter’s grip, and flew to Club Med in
Martinique for two glorious weeks.
The setting
was magnificent. Lush green mountains rising out of a clear blue sea.
Temperatures in the eighties with caressing tropical breezes. White sand
beaches dotted with pink shell treasures. Bougainvillea loaded with red blooms.
The
atmosphere, food and entertainment were equally captivating. Club Med was
all-inclusive. One price let you try any sport you fancied. Tom and I learned
to sail. We even raced each other for prizes—me in an all-women boat, Tom’s all
male. We played tennis, snorkeled, and swam. We grazed our way through
sumptuous buffets, drank the complimentary wine and beer, and didn’t bother to
count how many glasses. We laughed at the nightly shows, played backgammon,
danced under the stars.
Every night
at dinner we were seated with strangers who soon became friends—even when they
wouldn’t admit they knew English. (Ha-they could speak it better than my
French!) But I was young and reckless enough to admit I knew a little French.
So I made clumsy attempts at translation. I recall a request to ask two French
gentlemen how they might ask a woman to go to bed with them. Their answer: “But
a Frenchman doesn’t need to ask.”
We even dared
to visit a nude beach. There a Frenchman told us he always could spot the
Americans—they always kept their eyes glued to your face, afraid to let their
gaze wander.
I was in my
mid-twenties; Tom, early thirties. The fact that we were newly in love added
its own magic. I can close my eyes and remember the smells, the touch of the
breeze, the taste of the food.
\Would I want
to repeat that vacation today—some forty years later? Absolutely not. It was
the fantasy vacation of a twenty-something. I loved it, but I think trying to
repeat it would tarnish the memory. For starters, I’ve developed a wine allergy
and there’s no way in Hades I’d stroll onto a nude beach.
My fantasy
vacation now? Perhaps a train trip across Canada from Banff to Vancouver or vice
versa with maybe a side trip to Alaska. Lots of gorgeous scenery, some hikes in
the woods, good reads, and my husband seated beside me on the train. He’s still
the person I love most.
Fantasies change. That doesn’t make one better than
another. Just right for the moment.
3 comments:
Oh Linda, so glad you had that real fantasy vacation experience. Love the Frenchman's response. The train trip from Banff to Vancouver or vice versa would be a gorgeous trip. Just think, you could research the whole trip for a setting in a future novel!
Judith, that's one of the great things about being an author. Often you get to experience places and emotions twice--once when you're in the moment and later when you incorporate the sensations in a book.
Linda what a great memory to share! When I was in my twenties and even thirties I did have the Club Med dream. However, like you, that is not a fantasy of mine anymore. I love the pic you shared. Is that the women you shared the boat race with. I was looking for you and guessed you are the petite woman in the center of the back row, yellow shirt?
I like your new vacation fantasy. I've done that road on vacation with my family when I was about 14 years old. We drove and camped in Canada from Vancouver through Kamloops to Banff and the Columbia Ice Fields. I like your idea of the train. Much more civilized travel than flying. :)
Post a Comment