I love to travel. The first twenty years of my marriage saw travel only as transfers between duty stations and/or job sites or long-distance visits to family. Travel wasn’t something I looked forward to either. It meant gathering everything, planning, minute little details all had to be mapped out. It was an exhausting process. For the past couple of years, I’ve started getting the option to go places.
It began with a husband and wife only trip to Alaska for our anniversary. No kids, no internet, no phone… just us and the outdoors… and wine. It was truly a beautiful thing. I would find my perfect solution when a long-time friend and I decided not to let distance win. Friends for going on fourteen years now, it was far and few times we would live close enough to visit.
The girls weekend annual trip was born. We hit Pensacola the first time… where I learned that my fair (read: see-through) pale skin didn’t tan… it went straight to day glow orange. Horrific experience but it taught me to invest in SPF 3210. The following year we hit up St. Louis where I had the privilege of breathing on a Van Gogh… a story for another day. So, when we started pondering this years trip… we decided to go East Coast.
We would spend a weekend walking the hollowed streets of our forefathers (and mothers) in Boston. It was great weather for such a visit, high 70s with a slight breeze… not bad at all. Sightseeing is hard work… guaranteed to bring on a sweat and make you thirsty which was the beginning of a vicious cycle.
We weren’t far from our hotel the first time I began looking for a powder room. My faithful longtime bestie and annual travel partner is a card-carrying top fan of a certain coffee place that will go unnamed. She immediately spotted the telltale sign and off we were; she to the back of the line waiting to place an order and me at a brisk run to the bathroom. My plan was derailed when I didn’t have the code for the door though.
Turns out in Boston, nearly everywhere you go they require you to make a purchase to use their public customer bathroom. Now, I get it. I really do but I was concentrating really hard on not wetting myself. I stuck my head around the corner, made eye contact with the cashier and demanded the code… then loudly identified my friend in line therefore securing the code once she verbally swore that she would be staying in line to buy something. It was not unlike applying for a mortgage there for a few minutes to the amusement of the other customers.
Because I’m a small person sometimes, I even held the bathroom door open a little for an older lady who needed in (she didn’t have the code either) so I feel that I made my point. Silently.
We left that store both carrying a large tea (my latest kick is a London fog with almond milk, then add a sugar) where we weren’t even a mile down the map towards our next stop on the tour when the bathroom hunt began again.
This little adventure within an adventure would take us through many different stores that day: a Thai nail/massage place (where we wound up getting a massage because hey we were already there), four other coffee places, a high end organic grocery store, a floating museum, a pub or two (when in Boston…), a hardware store, a pharmacy and a castle. Every single stop saw me tucking my debit card back into my pocket just to get a code to the restroom. Good grief the amount of drinks I had.
At the very least, I can attest to the fact that when you visit Boston you will stay extremely hydrated. The absolute beauty and family feel of Boston was such a pleasant surprise after towns like San Francisco and New York City. I highly recommend a visit, although be prepared to buy access to any and every bathroom along the visit.
Kalynn Brazeal is a conservative, Christian wife/mom/country girl carrying around an MBA, several decades of business experience and a strong opinion. Dividing her time between Grand Lake and Colorado, she continues to share her column on life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness and cake. She can be reached by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.