Having another driver in the house, and one of our vehicles being a 1997 model that screams and sparks whenever you ask it to perform a turn signal, Jason thought it best to obtain another car.
That was the start of a big week. On Wednesday we celebrated Halfway Day.
Even Jeddy and Maddie came, who are both also very good at oohing and aahing.
And on Friday…
Jason and I took off for Saint Lucia!
It’s been five years since we celebrated our 15th anniversary in St. Lucia. It was even easier to get away this time, most of our kids being teenagers and one being a legal adult—but thanks to Grandpa for sleeping over once Jeddy went back to school. It gave me peace of mind and the kids appreciated it too, particularly when the smoke and carbon monoxide alarms both went off and an unusual cold snap put the pipes in danger of freezing.
We flew into Atlanta on Friday for the best chance of escaping any wintery weather so we could fly early from there to St. Lucia on Saturday. We have not forgotten our cancelled flight five years ago.
Fun fact: Atlanta International Airport is the busiest airport in the world. I would not have guessed. But having now experienced it, I’m pretty sure it’s bigger than some sovereign nations.
There’s a Marriott conveniently located right off the Sky Train which runs from the airport.
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| Sky Train! |
Guess which one had our reservation.
Marriott number two, however, did have a hotel restaurant and bar with margaritas and dinner, which was just fine by us.
Jason really wanted the rooms up on the hill overlooking the water. They came with a private plunge pool, which I’ve always wanted. They’re a higher-tier room so they automatically come with personal butler service.
Our flight to St. Lucia started boarding at 7:20am, so we were at the gate ready to go at 6:50. I went to pick up breakfast at McDonald’s, as you do, since presumably it’s called fast food for a reason. This little guy was also picking up McDonald’s.
It took a full twenty minutes to get my order. Pro tip: early morning passengers in a fast food line at an airport probably aren’t the most relaxed and understanding patrons in the world.
Fortunately the puppy in a bag acted as a therapy animal for the whole crowd.
And that afternoon…
Touchdown!
Jason changed into his Hawaiian shirt as soon as we got to the Sandals airport lounge.
The all-inclusive beverage service started right away, but all I wanted was a cup of coffee (they had that too).
This time we had a shuttle ride in daylight, a nice change from last time.
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| Our first glimpse of the resort—a different Sandals than last time |
Yes, this has inspired weeks of butt jokes and speculation at our house about what we can make our butler do.
Step one of having a butler is that you bypass the main lobby and get off the shuttle at the butler lounge. We were greeted with cold washcloths and glasses of rum punch—as if they read our mind after the hour-long shuttle up and down winding roads.
From there, our personal butler, Titus, showed us to our room. As soon as we walked in he popped open a bottle of French champagne, took the empty punch glass out of my hand, and handed us filled champagne glasses.
We sipped champagne and looked at the overwhelmingly beautiful view while Titus said a lot of things. And at the end, he said, “You got up very early today. You had a long flight and you’ve had champagne. You’re going to forget 90% of what I told you. Any questions, just call us.”
It’s really like they read our minds.
We got our own burner phone just for calling the butler—actually the butlerS, since we had a team of three working in shifts: Titus, Marvin, and Abra (“like abracadabra,” she helpfully told us).
Is a female butler a buttress?
Titus gave us a printed grid with a column for each day, in which he wrote all our dinner reservations. He didn’t ask when we wanted to eat where, he just told us, which we so appreciated at that point. He marked which day was our anniversary and when our excursions were. He told us to eat at the restaurant right across from our room for dinner that night, and to either eat there again for breakfast or call him for room service.
When Titus left us alone, having already forgotten our 90%, it seemed like the only reasonable thing to do was to jump right in the plunge pool and finish the bottle of champagne.
It was at this point that we discovered the plunge pool was approximately 32.5 degrees.
So I took pictures while Jason plunged.
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| We named the lion Timba, like Simba but he was a little tipsy. |
Eventually we cleaned up for dinner at the Italian restaurant just across the way.
We slept with the patio door open so we could breathe the warm fresh air and listen to Timba’s fountain all night long.
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