We’re back! I began to type this post on I-85 on our trek back to the land of inflated self-worth and overpriced condos. It took us far too long to drive home yesterday but thanks to the generosity of neighbors, we were able to end the night with home-brewed beer and friendly conversation. For as much as I love the DC area, the pompous humid air found inside the Beltway can be quite stifling and leave you feeling sticky and wanting conversation beyond who you know and what you do for a living (for the record, I personally know no one of political importance and I currently spend my days catering to the needs of two tiny dictators whom I love beyond measure). I’m far too laid back to concern myself with professional name-droppers and wanna-be power players.
After visiting with family in Georgia, Clay and I left the kids with my parents and escaped to the United States Virgin Islands (USVI) for five glorious days. An early morning flight took us to Miami, where we had breakfast Cuban mojitos garnished with bacon, and by 4:00pm, we were in our beater rental car on St. Thomas driving to our hotel.
During our five days of freedom, we explored St. Thomas and St. John, ate at high-end and casual restaurants, drank (too much?) rum and microbrews, and fell in love with the United States’ best purchase, thanks to a Treaty of the Danish West Indies of 1916. We drove on the left, became painkiller aficionados, and swam at some of the world’s most beautiful beaches. And we left with tanned skin and an appreciation for the more simple existence found on the islands.
Over the next few days, I plan to recap our trip and hope to capture the unique attitude at beauty found 1,000 miles from the continental United States. In the words of Liz Lemon, “I want to go to there.” Again. And again.