A widow, a spinster, a divorcee and two tweens get into a van.  No, that’s not the latest dirty joke:  its my family vacation.

The last time I went on a true family vacation, you know the kind where everyone travels together, I think the first Bush was in [...]]]>

These people are obviously NOT flying from LaGuardia

A widow, a spinster, a divorcee and two tweens get into a van.  No, that’s not the latest dirty joke:  its my family vacation.

The last time I went on a true family vacation, you know the kind where everyone travels together, I think the first Bush was in office.   Seeing as how that was a really long time ago, and travel has changed along with my personal preferences, imagine my quasi-horror at having to travel with 7 OF MY RELATIVES…its a horror that deserves all caps and boldface.  Pretty scary, indeed.

Anyway, my family has a reunion every year.  It’s my mother’s side and she was one of 9 kids, and they were close.  The reunion began 35 years ago at the church in my grandparents’ home town, and it has expanded to various locations along the East Coast, with the latest incarnation aboard Norwegian Cruise Line’s Norwegian Sky.  We’ve moved up in the world from Salley, SC (I’ll bet you don’t know where that is) to Nassau, The Bahamas, but some things about my family never change.  Like traveling.

While I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a world traveler, I’ve been out of the country a few times, and across it more times than I can count.  Between personal and business trips, I’ve amassed more than my fair share of frequent-flier miles and I know how to travel.  And since I’m used to doing it alone, I kinda like it and get a bee in my bonnet whenever I have to veer from my usual routine.

Enter the family vacation.

First, I have my few airlines with status.  The ones I know will take off, and have flown religiously since I started traveling a lot.  Needless to say, I’m not flying one of those tomorrow because I’m on a plane with 7 members of my family.  Our tickets were all booked at the same time, and we’re all in the same row.  How cozy!  And this airline charges $15 to check a bag, which I understand most of them do at this point.  However, I’ve flown in the last 6 months on one of my usual airlines, I didn’t have to pay, and I got to drink a whole can of soda onboard.  I’m not expecting that level of hydration tomorrow.

Since we’re all flying together, it makes sense for all of us to get to the airport together, so we’re all sleeping together tonight.  8 people in a 2 bedroom apartment.  You do the math.  I love my family dearly, but this much togetherness will drive anyone crazy, since I will have been with the same 7 people for nearly 48 hours by the time we get to the cruise ship and the vacation actually starts.  Then we’ll be on the ship together, with 2000 other people, 20 of which are related to me and will want to coordinate activities while I just want a tan on my legs.  The hits just keep on coming.

Allow me to describe the caravan.  First there’s my 3 aunts, all over 65.  They’re all what you’d call “active”, and none look a day over 55, but they’re kinda set in their ways.  If I get asked where my passport is one more time…like I haven’t managed to leave the country before all by myself.  I know it’s to be helpful but, again, I fly solo.  Then my 2 little cousins, grandchildren to one of my aunts.  They’re too old to be told what to do, and too young to be left to their own devices, and I love them to death.  But, when we have to wake them up in the morning and make sure they get dressed, I’ll be the one wearing dark sunglasses and sighing.  Actually I won’t be the only one, as my cousin will be there, and she’ll be shaking her head behind her own glasses.  We’re close to the same age, and most likely to vacation alone, but one of the “silver foxes” is her mother and we can’t talk back to our mothers.  I just hear about someone talking back and I expect to get a spanking, or go on punishment.  My mother passed away 15 years ago and I’m still a little afraid of her, which usually stops me from doing stupid stuff.  At least when I’m sober.  Which I hope not to be for too long this week.  All this to say that even if we’re getting a little annoyed, we have to pretend for the 1111.9 miles between Mt. Vernon, NY and Miami, FL.

Packing is also a big deal when you’re not used to traveling.  There are a lot of bags.  I’m the worst overpacker in the world and even I only have 1 suitcase, which isn’t that heavy.  I also packed my cousin’s suitcase, and did so efficiently even with the ironing.  (That’ s another thing:  I’ve got a lot of clothes that don’t need ironing, and I know how to pack ‘em so they don’t get wrinkled, so I’m good.  All I have to say is that I’m glad I’m not staying with my aunts, who will all be wrinkled in spite of the spray-starched pajamas that I saw today.)  Let’s just say that without the extra room in my cousin’s bag, some people would be out of luck.

I just can’t wait until we have to go through the security checkpoint.  There will be untying and unpacking, and not knowing you can’t have anything in your pockets, and nearly-forgotten jackets,  sunglasses and reading material.  You’ve been behind those people, carrying your shoes and your laptop, willing Grandma and Grandpa to get a move on.

I’ll be a part of that mess tomorrow, and you’ll see me with the one carry-on as I meet your gaze and sigh behind dark sunglasses.