SECURITY, SECURITY, STUPIDCURITY

It cost $7 to drive literally 3 minutes to the St. Thomas airport. My hotel was as close as you could get to the terminal without being on a runway so I was shocked at the cost seeing how it was only $10 from the airport to the ferry when I arrived, and only $3 from the ferry to Neptune's Treasure on Anegada.

I hate clearing security. And on this trip I have attempted to get liquids through in my carry on luggage that I didn't put in the zip lock bag as it was already full. And I can report to you that I got them through without detection EVERY SINGLE TIME. We're talking 5 times through security because I went through from YVR to Yuma, from Yuma to Los Angeles and three freaking times on the way home - that's right, for all three connections on the way back I had to go through security again. Of course I had to clear security in St. Thomas, then on my first stop in Miami the arrival terminal and the departure terminal for the next flight were not joined behind security so I had to exit into the general population area and cross back. In Toronto, I had to clear Canadian customs so had to leave the secure area to do that and then, go back. What a pain in the rear. Anyway, way to go TSA. You didn't see the two small tubes of moisturizer on the way down to the islands nor the two small (a couple of oz's) bottles of Pussers Rum on the way home. Good thing I wasn't planning on blowing up the plane with either of them.

When the plane banked, this island came into view. I have no idea which island it is but it was right out of the St.Thomas airport. I love the look of it.

Another lovely little island. Kind of bat shaped.

This amazing stretch of water went on for miles. I remember my friends from Zero to Cruising saying that they sailed for a long time in water that wasn't more than 12 feet deep and clear as a pool to the bottom. I have a feeling this might be it.

When I arrived at the Miami airport I was hungry and planned to get a meal but, as usual for me, wanted to find my gate first and then buy something at one of the great little restaurants that are all over the place behind the security gates. Well, I guess they don't think much of those of us traveling to Canada at that airport because the departure terminal for West Jet was way down several mile-long corridors to who knows where, and when I got there it looked like the waiting room for welfare and not a shop, restaurant, or even news stand in sight. Nothing. I had to walk for another quarter mile to find a Burger King and a Pizza Hut. No nice restaurants like the part I walked through when I landed. I ended up buying a bag of cinnamon pretzel chips at a news stand. Not exactly lunch

Ugly gate at Miami airport.

Ugly, ugly, UGLY.

When the agent was about to start boarding, she came on the intercom and said, "I have some good news and bad news." There was a collective groan from everyone waiting. "The good news is you will be flying on a brand new 737 with only 30 hours on it so far." Now I don't know how everyone else felt, but this was not exactly good news in my books. As far as I am concerned, that's not long enough to make sure everything is in good working order and it's not going to fall out of the sky. So I was not looking forward to the bad news. Turns out that was just that the plane was so new, there were no TV's installed on it yet.

The plane was so new it smelled like new car. Or new plane, rather.

Spotless new carpet.

Usually the plane wing and engine is crusted in dirt and always looks to me like it's about to fall apart. You could eat dinner off of this one.

Bye-bye, Miami. I wish I could have stayed a bit because I think you're great.

One real concern I have when flying is my swelling feet. By the time I reach my destination my feet look like two loaves of bread. So I was thrilled to find out that I had a whole row of seats to myself on my flight from Toronto to Vancouver and could put my feet up the entire way. Consequently my feel were barely swollen by the time I got home. Seeing how it took two weeks for my feet to go down after arriving in the BVI, I was really thankful for this.

When I was planning my trip to the BVI I was worried about cockroaches and spiders in my room so I bought sticky pads to put on the floors to trap any that strolled by. But I couldn't fit the ones that were shaped like a small box in my luggage. I had opened one up at home and decided to put it down on the floor by my bed to trap anything that might stroll by at home while I was gone. I am very happy to report I didn't need them in the BVI - I never saw a single spider except for a couple in webs in the vegetation, and I never saw a single cockroach at all. But when I got home.....

This thing is freaking HUGE!! Or was before it curled up and died. I hate having a basement room.

I have made a little arrangement to remember my time in the BVI with things I found on the beach along with a card I loved, a Christmas ornament I got on Anegada, and a magazine that captures the color of the water. I will try hard not to worship at this little shrine to my wonderful month in the BVI.

THANKS, TSA!

It's no secret amongst people who know me well that I have no regard whatsoever for the TSA. I feel they are a bureaucracy set in place to intimidate the masses into restricting their travel; a populace that is trapped at home is easier to keep tabs on. I don't believe they do one bit to make air travel safer. And, supposing that they DO somehow make it safer (do you know that, in their however many years of existence, they haven't found one SINGLE element that could be used to blow up a plane, yet have confiscated thousands of deadly nail clippers, explosive cans of shaving cream, and hundreds upon hundreds of the ever threatening snow globes?), the way they go about it is unsupportable. There is no lack of anecdotal reports of how inappropriate the agents behave on a daily basis. I am sure there are lovely people in the mix - I myself was patted down thoroughly by a very sweet young woman on my last trip to Palm Springs - but there are enough stories of thieves, voyeurs, and child porn lovers in the barrel to taint the whole lot.

So it is, without hesitation, that I blame the TSA for getting sunburned yesterday.

I rarely burn. I am blessed with (pale) olive toned skin that tans easily, thanks to what I believe is some Italian in my blood. I have relatives that look like they just stepped off of the plane from Rome and, indeed, the Romans occupied my native Great Britain for nearly four hundred years so it isn't past the realm of probability that a soldier got hold of one of my ancestors, either by legitimate marriage or a quick roll in the hay, and our ability to tan quickly and darkly was 'born', as it were.

When I come through the winter and enter spring with skin that hasn't seen the raw light of day, let alone sunshine, for 6 months, I use sunscreen with SPF 8 for the first few days of serious tanning sessions. Once a base tan is established, I switch to SPF 4. When searching for regulation 3oz bottles (this is where the TSA comes in) of sunscreen, I could only find SPF 35. It seems people who travel don't handle the sun very well, or so one would conclude. So I bought a 3oz bottle of SPF 35 - something that has never touched my skin before.

After three days of laying out in the sun with this stuff rubbed in, AND keeping in mind that I was on medication from the Dentist that advised NOT being in the sun or one would burn (I didn't know that as the directions were in Spanish, see post), the change in my skin color was barely noticeable. So yesterday I sat by the pool, where there is no shade after 10am, and read for a couple of hours with no sunscreen on at all (I was off the medication by now). And I burned. Had there been no stupid rule in place that limits the size of liquid containers we can bring on a flight (AND limiting said containers to what will fit into a stupidly small baggie) I would have had my usual two bottles of SPF 8 and 4 with me, and would be well on my way to that lovely dark tan by now. Instead I will probably start peeling in two days.

Oh well, the upside of this is when I fly out of here to the BVI in two days, if the TSA minions want to pat me down, my peeling flesh should make it as unpleasant for them as it will be for me.

Post Script: for those of you who are about to bombard me with comments that I should just have bought what I needed when I arrived here - I was in no shape to go shopping the first few days and when I DID go, I forgot sunscreen. And I am not so sure I would have bought it if I did remember; it goes against my grain to pay for two full size bottles, use hardly any, and then have to discard them to fly to the BVI and then buy it again there. In any case I maintain that, were these stupid rules not in place, I would have had the items with me, purchased at home when preparing for the trip, like we all used to do.

6:00 to YUMA

It was such an early start this morning, I didn't bother going to bed last night. My dear friend, Fran, was picking me up at 2:30 AM to drive me to the airport. We got there in good time as we tried a way I hadn't ever gone before but someone at work had suggested. Basically we took the exact same route I take to work, turned right instead of left on Marine Way and drove all the way to Arthur Lange Bridge. I think we made it in well under an hour - helped by the fact that there's no traffic at that time of night.

We hung out for a bit at the airport Starbucks and soon it was time for me to head through security. I went to the one I am used to going through, International, just to find that I was at the wrong one - there's a totally different area for those traveling from Canada to the States. I haven't ever flown from Canada to the States before...I always go from just over the border in either Bellingham or down in Seattle. I cleared without any issues. I did set off the metal detector and I wasn't wearing any metal but for two rings and I have been through with those before and didn't set anything off. She waved the wand over me and my lower legs set the wand off. Huh? She patted my legs down but there was nothing there but me. I said that it must be my magnetic personality but she didn't bat an eye at the joke. Humourless lot, those guys are. I took a look back as my carry on was going through the Xray and could clearly see all of my vitamins laid out in a layer between my clothing. I didn't use the pill caddies after all as they just took up far too much space. I put each serving (serving? I can't think of the word) into tiny zip lock bags and then put the whole lot into one huge one.

I had a moment there where I thought the woman was going to pull me over for drug dealing but, after pointing at the screen and consulting with a colleague, and a look back at me, they clearly saw my need for vitamins and other assorted drugs and let me leave unmolested, as it were.

My first flight left on time and all was good. I sat at the window beside a lovely young woman who was flying to Hawaii for the first time since she was a small girl, and her husband's very first trip there. I felt badly that they couldn't sit together but he had an isle seat and I really didn't want to give up my window seat. I have found that I get bumped a lot by the attendants going by with their cart when I sit in the aisle, which I used to do all of the time so I could stretch out my bad knee. It keeps me from sleeping and I ended up sleeping most of the way.

When I got off in the San Francisco airport, I asked at the desk where my next flight was boarding. The lady told me and then asked if I wanted to take an earlier flight. I said I would. I had been worried about only having an hour between flights at LAX so this would give me more time. She said that the flight I was booked on was way overbooked so it would help them out. She said it cost $50 to bump to an earlier flight and then looked at me expectantly. I wasn't about to pay that so I said it was okay, I'd take my scheduled flight. She then said that, as it was helping them out, she would waive it. I then told her how it was helping me and she looked at me, surprised. "Why did you have to take three flights to get to Yuma?" I told her that my flight to LAX from Vancouver had been canceled. "Oh well, then you get the earlier flight for no charge anyway." She handed me a new boarding pass and then indicated that I should walk back down the ramp I had just come up and get back on the same plane. So I ended up sitting exactly two rows back from the seat I had just vacated. As there's no food served on any of the flights I was taking, it would give me some time to get lunch in LAX.

A Nice Lunch at Wolfgang Puck's

A Best Buy VENDING MACHINE!

When I went to board the third plane, we actually had to walk across the tarmac like in the olden days or like you do if you are in a tiny Caribbean nation.

I actually took this picture after we landed in Yuma

The plane was small inside and I felt like I had traveled back in time.

It was ancient; an EMB 120 Brasilia (that's for you, Kim). Sitting in my seat I looked out of the window and the wing and engine put me in mind of the plane Carole Lombard perished in when it slammed into a Nevada mountain.

And when the entire capsule shuddered and the engines screamed as the pilot pushed his foot to the floor (or whatever it is they do) in what was starting to feel like a feeble attempt to gain enough speed to get us airborne, I felt sure I was about to follow Ms Lombard's fate. You know the sound seaplanes make over Coal Harbour (for all of my local readers)? Well it sounded just like that only about 1,000 times louder. I felt the vibrations of the strain on the plane down to the very marrow of my bones. After that experience, the much dreaded dentist drill tomorrow will seem, at least I hope, like a whisper and a tickle.

I ended up sleeping, as I had for the first two flights, for most of the way. I woke with a start when we experienced a bit of turbulence and looked down to see the land divided by a river; all dry scrub and desert on one side, and fertile farm fields on the other. The incongruous juxtaposition of the two was vivid.

There was also a cool mountain or big hill that was very rugged except for a portion right in the center that looked like it had giant stairs carved into it. I marvelled at it, so much so I forgot to take a photo, and wondered if the stairs were man made or natural.

After a rather bumpy descent and somewhat rough landing, we were safe on the ground once again, only now in the glorious blazing sunshine of the Arizona desert.

I hopped in a cab for the short ride to the Howard Johnson Inn I was booked into and thought to ask the driver how far it is from the Inn to the border at Los Algodones. She told me it is about 15 miles. I asked how much a cab would cost to there and was startled when she said $30. "Each way?" I gasped. "Yes." Ouch. She said there were places closer to the border and so when I checked in I told the receptionist that I would only be staying one night and explained why. As I walked to my room I found the place to be somewhat shabby but when I got inside, was pleasantly surprised to see it had been recently refurbished. A quick look around, however, turned up some rather shoddy housekeeping. The tub looks like it needs a good Vimming, and the taps are crusted with old soap and stains that would be rather easy to remove with some elbow grease and more Vim. I am happy to be staying just the one night.

I found a similar deal to the one I have here at the Best Western Yuma Mall Inn Suites. The place looks lovely in the photos and the pool area looks great. And their pool is heated; I found out shortly after I arrived that the one here isn't. And it is too cold to use. Anyway I am booked into that place for the rest of my stay and, they have free shuttle from the airport so I am taking a cab back to the airport tomorrow morning and then calling the shuttle instead of the, what would have been, expensive cab ride out to the BW Inn.

Back in the Land of PALM TREES!!!

Poolside With My Plane-Ride-Swollen Feet

Dinner at Applebee's, Just Across the Road

THAT'S NOT HOW I LEFT THIS!!

On my last three or four trips, my checked luggage has contained a 'love note' from the TSA - a letter stating that they felt it necessary to go through my luggage, mess it all up, and give it back to me without attempting to restore it to any sort of order.

I HATE THAT!!

As someone who is compulsively organized, there is nothing that upsets me more than to see my carefully placed items all askew.

The worst time this happened to me had nothing to do with the TSA.

Every time I go away, I like to leave a spotlessly clean house and clean sheets on all of the beds. I know I most likely will be coming home with suitcases full of dirty laundry - and when there were five of us, that was a lot of laundry - so the last thing I want to face is any sort of mess in the house. The laundry is enough, thank you very much.

Back in 1993 I was taking a trip with the kids to Seattle from Kelowna to meet up with their dad who was working there, to see if it was somewhere they would be happy moving to. I left the house in spic-span condition knowing that it would be lovely to come home to in a week. (We drove down in our mini van and hit the worst snow storm I have ever encountered on the Coquihalla Highway - in mid April!! but that is another story.)

We had a great time in Seattle and the kids loved it. We eventually moved there and hated it but, again, that is another story.

When I arrived home with the three kids and four suitcases full of dirty laundry I opened the door expecting to see my spotless house. Instead I found chaos! There were books on the floor, several ornaments and a precious domed clock which should have been on the mantle over the fireplace were all over the hearth and floor - the dome smashed to bits and the clock in pieces, and cracker crumbs and bits all over the couch and floor. In the kitchen the bread box was open and there was a trail of cracker crumbs and wrappings leading from it to the edge of the counter and all over the floor. A bunch of bananas looked like they had been chewed into. What on EARTH could have caused this havoc? And if it was an animal, which it was looking like to me, how did it open the bread box's roll front door?

I had spied a little pile of droppings of some kind on the arm of the couch, quite a large pile actually. It seemed this was the favourite resting place of whatever it was that did this. We soon found out what it was. A streak of silver darted past us into the dining room and we followed hard on it's heels. As we peeked under the table, a pair of beady little eyes in a furry face peeked back. We recognized him instantly; it was the squirrel the kids had been feeding peanuts to off of our deck all winter. Turns out I had inadvertently left the fireplace damper open and he had scampered down the chimney looking for his usual treats.

It took me an hour to get him out of the house, and three more to clean up his mess. Then I started on the laundry.

Anyway, back to my luggage issues. I always lock my luggage with a TSA accessible lock, and then, when I remember, zip strip the zippers together as an extra deterrent to anyone thinking of opening it up. Every time but one that my luggage has been opened by the TSA, it has been when I haven't used the zip strips. So there's a tip for you - use a zip strip as well as a lock and most likely they won't go through the bag.

There has been a lot of talk lately about TSA agents stealing items from luggage. To deter them from doing this I make an exhaustive list of every single item in my bag along with the line "owner in possession of a copy of this list" and place it right on top when I zip it closed. That way they know that I know exactly what is in the bag and will immediately miss anything they choose to help themselves to. As an aside - I also tape a piece of paper inside the mesh zipper part in the lid that lists my home address as well as my destination address and the dates I will be there, so that - should the unthinkable happen and my luggage gets misdirected - at least it shouldn't end up on the Unclaimed Baggage Center's website. So far I haven't had anything stolen. And my bag has only gone missing once; if you like, you can read about it here.

To help keep my items organized when they do decide to go through my bags, I ordered a set of Rick Steve's Packing Cubes from Amazon. I picked them up yesterday along with my Kindle. I plan on putting underwear and socks in one (not that I am taking any socks on my next trip), bathing suits in another, and not sure what I will put in the large one yet. They come highly recommended by frequent travelers and I am sure I will get much use out of them. Although I am going to try to have only carry-on luggage on this trip, I still like the idea of everything inside the bag being so organized. Once at my destination, I can just - easy-peasy - pull the mesh bags out of my luggage and pop them into a dresser drawer. And should the truly unthinkable happen and there's no room for my bag in the overhead compartment and it has to be checked, then I am prepared for the slovenly habits of the TSA.

Another thing I picked up in the same order yesterday was a Rick Steve's money belt. As I blogged about earlier, I am worried about the large amount of cash I must carry with me for the first leg of my trip, to Mexico, for dental work. They only take American cash as payment. And, as I don't have a credit card with a large limit, I will also need to take more cash and travelers cheques for the Caribbean portion of my trip. Reading stories lately of TSA agents teaming together to steal money from luggage as it goes through the scanners in security, I have been very concerned as to how I will safely carry so much cash and have concluded that the best way is a money belt.

The design of the belt has changed and so the one I have is different from the one pictured when I ordered it. Now instead of one small pocket for credit cards with a large one beside it for cash, the front pocket is divided straight down the middle meaning that the cash has to go in the back pocket along with any larger items, such as a passport. I don't like it as much as the one I thought I was ordering.

According to Rick Steve's, travel guru, this is what every good traveler should have in his or her travel belt:

Packing light applies to your money belt as well as your luggage. Here's what to pack in your money belt:
•Passport: You're legally supposed to have it with you at all times.
•Railpass: This is as valuable as cash.
•Driver's license: This works just about anywhere in Europe and is necessary if you want to rent a car on the spur of the moment.
•Credit card: It's required for car rental and handy to have if your cash runs low.
•Debit card: A Visa debit card is the most versatile for ATM withdrawals. (I no longer use traveler's checks.)
•Cash: Keep only major bills in your money belt.
•Plastic sheath: Money belts easily get sweaty and slimy (YUK!!!). Damp plane tickets and railpasses can be disgusting and sometimes worthless. Even a plain old baggie helps keep things dry.
•Contact list: Print small, and include every phone number or email address of importance in your life.
•Trip calendar page: Include your hotel list and all necessary details from your itinerary

That's a lot of stuff for one small money belt. I won't have a rail pass so that should leave some room! And this one has a waterproof lining so I don't have to worry about the plastic sheath.

With all that stuff in there, I wonder if I will have room for the cash?