The thought of spending Christmas in a drafty Tree House battered by inclement weather on par with teacher training root canal surgery was not a delightful prospect.
So what does a Knight do? Indulge.
As Sting once sang “When the World is Running Down” lets head for the Dominican sound.
With that ringing in my ears I parked my bum on a jetBlue seat and headed for a warmer climate.
Now the normal three hour flight to the sun and sand was extended to an eight hour ordeal.
So what does a Knight do? Indulge.
As Sting once sang “When the World is Running Down” lets head for the Dominican sound.
With that ringing in my ears I parked my bum on a jetBlue seat and headed for a warmer climate.
Now the normal three hour flight to the sun and sand was extended to an eight hour ordeal.
As we taxied towards lift off, our witty Captain announced that current snowy conditions was in complete contrast to where we were headed.
With that joyful piece of information I settled in to ponder eight days of Blissful Sloth.
As we approached the Dominican shoreline it soon became apparent that we where circling a large mountainous area and not descending to the beckoning seas below.
Sure enough we in a holding pattern because the plane ahead of us had just landed and collapsed on the runway. How does a plane collapse?
Poor thing… exhausted from hauling unruly Europeans was the cartoon image running through my head.
After more topological sightseeing it was made clear that we needed to be heading for some discount gas and nearby airport.
Having landed at the gate with doors open, we sat while Captain jetBlues lamented why he didn't fly faster to nudge out the offending plane.
We lost the race to the finish line. “It stinks” he said.
By now every ground crew member were down the aisles adding to the unfolding drama. With the sun bursting through the fiesta was underway.
Three hours later we landed beneath a Caribbean sunset… still better than dental surgery.
There is no better way to reflect on the past years woes with a swim in the
warm sea with a promise of a George Hamilton tan at the end of it.
As I thought of the “To Do List” for the coming year I gave a toast to
Barrack Obama with my aptly named Presidente beer (local brew).
His "To Do List" will be Herculean.
Back now in the Tree house curled up with a Barbara Carlton novel and Verve Clicquot on ice ready for prime viewing countdown.
As the late great John Lennon sang “Happy New Year let’s hope it's a good one”
Happy New Year to All.
With that joyful piece of information I settled in to ponder eight days of Blissful Sloth.
As we approached the Dominican shoreline it soon became apparent that we where circling a large mountainous area and not descending to the beckoning seas below.
Sure enough we in a holding pattern because the plane ahead of us had just landed and collapsed on the runway. How does a plane collapse?
Poor thing… exhausted from hauling unruly Europeans was the cartoon image running through my head.
After more topological sightseeing it was made clear that we needed to be heading for some discount gas and nearby airport.
Having landed at the gate with doors open, we sat while Captain jetBlues lamented why he didn't fly faster to nudge out the offending plane.
We lost the race to the finish line. “It stinks” he said.
By now every ground crew member were down the aisles adding to the unfolding drama. With the sun bursting through the fiesta was underway.
Three hours later we landed beneath a Caribbean sunset… still better than dental surgery.
There is no better way to reflect on the past years woes with a swim in the
warm sea with a promise of a George Hamilton tan at the end of it.
As I thought of the “To Do List” for the coming year I gave a toast to
Barrack Obama with my aptly named Presidente beer (local brew).
His "To Do List" will be Herculean.
Back now in the Tree house curled up with a Barbara Carlton novel and Verve Clicquot on ice ready for prime viewing countdown.
As the late great John Lennon sang “Happy New Year let’s hope it's a good one”
Happy New Year to All.
