Exiting Winter Hibernation

After five months of snow, ice, and darkness, my winter reprieve couldn’t come soon enough. I was ready to come out of hibernation and absorb some vitamin D in the sunny south. The bags were packed, and our ride was waiting to take us to the airport. 

We sailed through security and enjoyed extra legroom on our flight, which arrived early. We landed at the resort expecting warmth and ease. The universe had other plans.

The lobby was welcoming, albeit crowded with people checking in. We finally got our key cards and dragged our luggage across the pool area toward our room. I scanned for a porter — usually unavoidable at check‑in — but none were around. In fact, I didn’t see much staff at all as we made our way to our “superior” room.

The Tropical Damp Chamber

As we neared our building, I saw we were on the ground floor, which was convenient for the luggage but less convenient for the “patio” — a concrete slab beside the walkway with two rusted chairs that did not exactly scream “superior.”

The door was ajar, which immediately raised suspicions. We pulled the door open cautiously, stepped inside, and searched for the light. Once it flickered on, I understood why it had been off. The single yellow bulb on the rocking ceiling fan barely illuminated the room. The air was so thick it felt like the room was breathing. We went straight to the air conditioner and turned it on. After a few minutes, it became clear there was none.

We did a quick inventory and realized we had a lemon: no safe, a dangling electrical outlet, and dampness everywhere — the towels, the sheets, and the toilet paper, which had clearly reached its limit.

The ceiling fan seemed to be whirring, ‘lower your expectations.’

A Study in Misalignment

After suffering a night in the moisture chamber (there were no other rooms available), we were moved to a second‑floor room with working A/C. The king bed was gone, replaced by two doubles, but complaining seemed pointless as comfort had already become a negotiable concept.

As we wandered the resort, there was a general feeling that it catered to a very different kind of vacationer — loud, chaotic, and alcohol-forward. I was sober enough to notice everything, which turned out to be a disadvantage.

The Beach Chair Hierarchy

On beach vacations, there is always some tension around securing a chair, preferably with optional shade available. I had high hopes given many of the guests preferred to hang out in the pool with the bar. Turns out — these were high expectations. 

The chairs, if you were lucky enough to snag one at sunrise, were more like medieval torture devices. Metal bars placed precisely across your ribs and thighs if you dared lie on your stomach. Not that it mattered — our beach time turned out to be limited anyway. 

The Daily Rain Dash

Even though March was not supposed to be the rainy season, it rained…every day. Now, rain showers in the tropics tend to be short-lived. Maybe five minutes and then the clouds blow over, giving way to the glorious sunshine. In fact, we became pros at our beach bar dashes by monitoring the clouds and wind gusts, arriving at the beach bar with hats, bags, and towels in hand, just as the downpour began.

A couple of short rain showers each day would have been fine. But we also enjoyed two days of rain, all day. This led to hanging out in the lobby, joining the growing numbers of guests who also appeared to be avoiding their rooms.

Entertainment?

But resort life is not just about accommodations and beach time; it’s also about entertainment, a term that is apparently very subjective.

One of our first experiences was a Karaoke night, which at the best of times is not ideal. This wasn’t one of those times.

I appreciate the eagerness of the volunteers and passion for singing, but Noel? In March? Nothing says tropical vacation like a Christmas carol.

Another evening featured the entertainment committee putting on a Mexican show…in the Dominican Republic. I had to pause to remind myself where we were.

The Food

The food was fine — not great, but not bad. The “fancy” drinks did not have any fruit garnishes, the kind you would expect on a tropical vacation. That didn’t bother me so much as I’m not much of a fruity sweet frozen drink gal. Truthfully, I like a nice glass of wine, but drinking it at this resort felt like a dare. It was the first time I thought I should have packed my own. 

All of this led me to a realization…I think I’ve aged out of certain environments.

The Moment of Clarity

By the end, I was genuinely looking forward to heading home. Once through airport security, we headed to one of the restaurants and I ordered an ice-cold glass of sauvignon blanc, the most delightful glass I’ve ever enjoyed.

I’ve come away from this escape with the quiet wisdom of what I want in a vacation, and especially what I don’t.

There was no single, dramatic event that brought me this realization. Perhaps it is my season of life or my preference to vacation in places that are an upgrade to my home base.

Sure, this wasn’t the vacation I had hoped for, but it did confirm one thing: I’m officially too old for chaos disguised as leisure.

🌱Becoming Me Again — one step, one story at a time.