Vacation All I Ever Wanted

Ah!

Back to civilization a few days ago after nine days’ vacation, mostly spent 850 miles south in gorgeous Hilton Head, South Carolina, former stomping grounds of a younger Mrs. Hopper. In a nutshell, those nine days were the perfect mixture of activity and relaxation, and, I must admit, I am wholly recharged for what new adventures may come upon us, or just the old, recurring ones (back-to-school, birthdays, holidays, and the night time tax job in the new year).

Again we rented a villa for about $40 a day more than your typical chain hotel. This is the third one time we’ve done that over the past year, and this recent one ranks just slightly lower than last summer’s villa, only because it didn’t have a spiral staircase and a balcony with a water view. What it did have was an extra bedroom, a spacious desk and reading room, and a patio overlooking a golf course where I spent four or five hours reading. The beds were humongous, and each of us got our own private shower.

We consciously did more than we did last year, activity-wise, now that the girls are growing older (nine-going-on-ten and thirteen-going-on-eighteen). We rented bicycles for an afternoon – Little One and I roaming about on a tandem, a bicycle-built-for-two, and we must have clocked thirty miles in four hours. Another morning we went out kayaking, to more adventure: we spotted a bald eagle, ospreys flying about with live fish in their talons, and a dolphin that nearly flipped into the wife’s kayak. I walked every morning for an hour, and spotted gators in the lagoons four times. Once the wife and I walked the a.m. beach, which felt like SEAL training to me. And, of course, there were two afternoons in the pool and one at the beach (the ladies ventured out again on our last day while I chilled in the AC). The Atlantic just off Hilton Head was incredibly warm, sauna-warm. Despite an attack by seaweed on my leg, no wildlife was spotted.

It was also super relaxing. As usual, I had a used book store (actually a thrift shop where my mother-in-law volunteers) scoped out; one afternoon I purchased a paperback Lincoln and His Generals and Book Five of Churchill’s six-volume history of WW II. But I was reading a long tome detailing the economic miracle of communist China. It’s what all the kids are reading nowadays, I know. Actually, every Fall I like to read something economics-oriented to chat with my co-workers and clients in between tax returns. All in all, I finished the 435 page cinder block in the week allotted, in many different comfy chairs in many different locations.

We also ate like royalty, as we always do when visiting the in-laws. True, my father-in-law, the gourmet’s gourmet, had passed on three months ago, and his presence was missed, but my mother-in-law is just as amazing in the kitchen. We had everything from shrimp and rice to home-made pizzas, and I loved just about everything. One night we treated her by taking her out to a new Italian eatery on the island. I had Bolognese, which I enjoyed, and both girls, normally culinary complainers, found their seafood dishes delicious.

The vacation was bookended by two long, uneventful car rides. The trip down there is a solid fifteen hours, with the wife and I alternating driving duties. My parents dog-sat, and we got the old boy Sunday morning (much to their sadness and regret, despite the bloody bruises on their arms from Charlie’s overly zealous affection and, uh, overly sharp nails). Patch had a scrimmage Sunday night versus an older girls team, which kicked their butts and signaled that it’s time for sleeve-rolling-up and getting back to work for the upcoming soccer season. I started reading Bruce Catton’s Never Call Retreat, being in a Civil War phase, and before I knew it, two weekdays speed by and it’s now Tuesday evening.

And the past two days that Go-Gos song is still echoing in my head …