Day 1-Monday, December 7, 2009

So it begins…
A rare rainy and cold morning in LA made me relieved that we were leaving. A great ride to LAX in prepaid luxury sedan was a nice touch–thanks Shelli for the idea and Connie Self for hooking us up with a discount through a local affiliate. The car arrived at 5:33 a.m. and we got to LAX a few minutes after 6. Our flight was scheduled to depart at 7:50. Were warned at airport counter that next time we needed to arrive a little earlier than 90 before departure to check in with bags for an international flight–at least 2 hrs before. But we were fine for this trip and the rest of check in was uneventful. Our bags were checked free because it was an international flight, so u get to check 2 bags free and carry on one plus a personal item. Regardless, we packed light, checking and carrying on one bag each. Our flight took off from LAX at 830, 50 mins later than scheduled. If I didn’t know better, I’d have worried about the already tight 1 hr connection in Miami, but I do, so I didn’t worry.

We arrived at MIA on schedule. I slept through almost the entire flight. Poor Shelli had the middle seat next to an older, not skinny woman. My poor babe was a trooper. It was hot and humid, even inside the air conditioned Miami airport. “Stickier than a post-it note” is what I posted to Facebook. We saw our flight was delayed 20-30 mins, which afforded plenty of time for the long hike to the international E-gate, and a few mins to grab a bite to eat. Ever hopeful, I stepped to the counter at the gate to inquire about upgrading our seats to business class for final leg of the trip, but was deterred by the $800 per ticket price tag. Maybe next time. We’d gladly just pay for our drinks on the flight, which turned out fine because while we had 5 rounds each, we only paid for 3 due to some very kind flight attendants. On the MIA to CUR flight, Shelli and I passed time by drinking cocktails while watching videos (Beyonce heavy–of course!!) she’d downloaded to her MSI Wind Netbook.

Arriving In Curacao
Not even 30 secs after arriving at Curacao’s Hato Int’l Airport, I already broke the law by snapping a photo on my digital camera of the Curacao arrivals sign while waiting in line to get my passport stamped. An agent kindly approached me and informed me that photography was never allowed inside an airport, and requested that I delete the photo, which I did immediately.

Customs was a breeze and we found an agent immediately to guide us to the right location for our transfer from the airport to the resort. We waited about 15 mins for our shuttle ride to arrive with a small group of other guests. We loaded our bags into the trailer hooked to the shuttle, and boarded.

Almost immediately after hitting the road in the shuttle–we were still right in front of the airport–there was a loud scraping noise from the back of the shuttle. A small car pulled up beside us and a man rolled down his window and said something to the shuttle driver in another language. She turned on the hazard lights and got out of the shuttle. The car pulled in front of us, put on its hazards, and the man driving got out. As he walked past the shuttle, he yelled to us inside–“Just relax!” No one was panicking anyway.

After a few minutes one of the other passengers, an older man, exited the shuttle to see what was going on. He came back and reported that the shuttle had detached from the trailer. The men from the car were helping the driver try to get it rehooked and locked on. I guess that didn’t work, because a few minutes later they were loading the luggage into the shuttle with us (there was plenty of space, with only 8 passengers in a 16 passenger shuttle). Soon, we were on our way. No clue what ended up happening to the trailer.

It was 10:00 when we finally hit the road (our flight had arrived at about 8:50). The ride was nice–Curacao looked a lot like America, and there was more English and recognizable (to a non-speaker)
Spanish-like words than I expected. Almost everyone I saw was black, except the passengers and the men who helped with the trailer.

Shelli fell asleep on the ride, but I stayed away to watch the scenes as we wound through extremely narrow roads, and to write this blog. 🙂 More when we check into the resort!

At the resort
We got to Breezes Curacao resort after about 20 mins on the road. The lobby was beautiful. We did not have to touch our bags. We waited in line a bit to check in, and received the keys to our Jr. Oceanfront Suite in the Flamingo Tower, as I had requested. Our room was on the first floor, so no stairs. The room itself met the expectations I had after reading reviews that ranged from so-so to good for the price. It was night time so we couldn’t get a good sense of the view, but we were definitely oceanfront, steps from the sand, and on the “nude beach” side of the resort–I requested this to limit our exposure to kids, and noise, even though it meant a further hike to the bars and food. Worth it to have peace and quiet at night, and hopefully in the morning as we shall see tomorrow. First inspection of the room revealed the oft-commented upon mosquitoes that I read about in every travel review. Unfortunately, while the reviews warned me to bring mosquito repellant, which I did, I didn’t think to bring anti-itch cream, for the all-but certain few mosquito bites we’d acquire throughout the week. Shelli was bitten almost immediately, and by the time we settled down I was trying my best to ignore 3 fresh bites. We killed every mosquito we encountered (4 as of this writing). There is a flat screen HDTV in the room, and when we turned it on, Family Guy (a personal favorite) was playing. The channels did not have crystal clear reception though. Other observations revealed an inoperable bathroom light which was quickly fixed by “Hector”, who arrived at our room with our bags shortly after we did. He told us the buffet and bar were open until 1 if we were hungry. We were starved so we immediately departed for Jimmy’s Buffett.

One point of accuracy in the reviews I read before arriving pertained to the poor quality of the food. Granted, it was just “after-hours snack time” at the buffet, not a full on meal, but the selection, and quality of the offering was, let’s say, less than sufficient. Even when you are starving, which we were. I don’t eat red meat or pork–only fish and poultry meats. Shelli fixed herself a burger, which looked raw inside, and tasted “different” in Shelli’s words. I stayed with the safer looking Chicken Nuggets and Fries, both of which were completely disappointing. They had nothing to dip the nuggets in–not even BBQ sauce. I also tried a spoonful of some kind of chicken dish that tasted boney and rubbery. Shelli had a scoop or two of some kind of fish that she said was tasty but I couldn’t eat more than a bite of it. The only dessert was flan, which I hate, so I had a couple of slices of honeydew and watermelon, both of which barely passed muster. They had a couple of sad looking salads that I walked right by. I can say that the grape soda, which had a local label, was the grapiest I’ve ever tasted.

Redeeming all of this “bad buffet food” confirmation was the open bar, serving premium liquors and frozen mixed drinks. We both decided to stick with the same vodka & tonic cocktail that we’d been drinking all afternoon. Yes the glasses are small, but who cares? You can get as many of them as you want! I did find it funny though that the bartender, who moved slowly, didn’t know how to make either a white Russian or a long island iced tea (the person ahead of me in line had ordered both). You can’t really mess up a vodka tonic, but the bar had no limes which I thought was a no-brainer. Still, the vodka was Stoli, the tonic was bubbly and we had 3 of them each before heading back to our room, taking the scenic route around the resorts pools, including the one with the swim up bar, and the small strip of beach, as a steel drum band played recognizable smooth jazz tunes like “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You”. I’ll write more about the pools and entertainment tomorrow after we’ve seen it in the daylight and experienced more.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t put a note here for my mom. The Scotch Whiskey of choice at the bar was Dewar’s–my mom’s favorite. So, I know she’ll sigh longingly to know she could have had all of it that she wanted if she was here. I don’t drink brown liquors, except select tequilas. The only tequila they had at this bar was Chihuahua tequila from Mexico, which didn’t impress me, but also won’t keep me from drinking gobs of it before this honeymoon is said and done. Speaking of honeymoon, the drink special of the day was called the “Honey Moon”, and its listed ingredients were Vodka, Amaretto, Vanilla and Grenadine.
Didn’t sound tasty to me, so I didn’t try it.

We returned to our room and unpacked our bags. Shelli hung up the clothes, I organized the toiletries. We put all of our important papers, and passports, in the room safe.

The Williams-Martinez Jr. Middleweight fight was showing on HBO (which did have crystal clear reception), and we watched it (since the only other options were various U.S. local news shows from unnamed cities and local programming in non-English language. Williams won–119-110.

Now Shelli and I are draped sleepily across the king size bed (which is no Heavenly bed, but not complainable either) and getting ready to call it our 1st night in Curacao. Even though we’ve both been sprayed down with OFF, I still fear I’m being or will be feasted on by mosquitoes throughout the night. Nonetheless, I’m happy to be here and excited to see what daylight brings in this foreign land. With unlimited amounts of liquor, pools, and beach. Until tomorrah!

****
Should you feel led, please comment, favorite, or subscribe for me! www.twitter.com/mistieyes