England Cont...

     My dad decided to tackle the driving, oh what a brave man. It’s hard enough to drive on the left side of the road with a small automatic car; I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been to drive a bus with a stick shift on the left side. Every driving instinct he had needed to be ignored and full concentration was necessary to drive us around safely. 
     As my dad drove us out of the rental lot, Kate and my mom sat shotgun watching the windshield wipers move wildly. The placement of the wipers and the turn signals on that English vehicle were very confusing to an American driver. The wipers were located in the American car’s turn signal position and turn signal in the wiper’s position. Every time the car made a turn those damn wipers went on, needless to say cuss words out of my dad’s mouth became commonplace during the unforgettable driving experience. I don’t think that our semi muted chuckles helped the situation either. 
     Oxford was our first destination, so at least my dad had time to practice his shuttle bus driving skills on country roads without too much traffic interference. And it was not always pretty. He was so focused on the road and shifting that he often neglected to notice tree limbs that were hanging over the road. Soon we would find ourselves naturally drifting to the left only to hear the sound of branches viciously scraping the side of the car. The sound of those branches would alert my dad causing him to panic then to quickly turn the wheel right, shaking up the luggage and all of us. 
     We all felt so out of control which made everyone, except my dad, laugh uncontrollably. We could not help it. Nothing about the car ride was normal and apparently living on the edge in a beast of a car was humorous to us. 
     My dad eventually lost it, looked into his rear view mirror and yelled, “This is not funny!” Unfortunately for me, the mirror was pointed in my direction so I received his glare along with his frustrated words. I remember a dead silence for a few seconds and then Shelly blurted, “Dad yelled at Ang.” We all looked at each other desperately trying to hold back smirks but we could not compose ourselves and soon burst into laughter. Apparently, if a group of travelers compile jetlag, crazy driving and a beastly car into one experience, the end result is delirious laughter that cannot be controlled. 
     After our laughter subsided, my dad immediately apologized for snapping at me then asked us to assist him with his English driving skills. He encouraged us to yell at him if he was getting too close to the side of the road, a random bush or tree limbs of any kind. He said that this would be the only time he would ever ask us to yell at him, he just had way too much to concentrate on with the car itself and needed more eyes to keep us safely on the road without incident. 
     As we traveled the countryside, my dad white knuckling it at the wheel, Shelly, Lora and I laid down in the back and slept. With sixteen seats back there, we had plenty of room to stretch out. While our dad fought the difficulties brought on by the shuttle bus, we actually enjoyed the many perks it had to offer. 
     Kate and my mom continued to sit shotgun and once the chaos settled down, my mom found some time to daydream about her parents. They had planned on making the trip with us, but because of my grandfather’s heart condition they had to cancel their tickets and stay home. That upset my mother very much and she later spoke with us about her sadness. Of course, we all agreed, that the car ride alone would have given both of her parent’s heart attacks so her sadness about their absence quickly faded. 
     With luck on our side, we reached Oxford in one piece, thank God. The town was so beautiful but unfortunately for us, most of our concentration was on the size of the roads compared to the size of our vehicle. Our tour bus gave us no room for error, yet error we did. My mom, the designated co-pilot, accidentally misread our map so we found ourselves unexpectedly traveling down the wrong street. Now in any other vehicle the wrong street would not have been a big deal, but that street ended in a dead-end and turning a sixteen passenger vehicle around the parameters of a dead-end was not going to be an easy task. 
     As my dad pondered his driving options, his mind cluttered with a million thoughts, he inadvertently hit a pedestrian in the arm with his side mirror. She shot him a look to kill and continued to stare the rest of us down as we drove by her. My dad did not realize that he hit her until we shouted, “Dad, you just hit a woman in the arm with your mirror!” He slammed on the brakes, stuck his head out of the window and tried to apologize to her. Because we were moving about five miles per hour, she was not hurt but she was pissed off. She showed zero interest in his apology and continued to stare him down as he tried to explain himself. It seemed as though she just wanted him to shut up and disappear. Of course, that was impossible for two reasons, the bus was too damn big and because we were heading into the dead-end. 
     Somehow my dad pulled it together enough to make the u-turn look fairly smooth but once we turned around, we had to drive back where we came from only to see the jaded woman again. We all ducked to avoid her evil eye while my dad shot her an “I’m sorry look.” That beast of a vehicle was nothing but trouble. 
     Fortunately, that form of transportation only cursed us and all pedestrians in our path for about a week. We eventually traded it in before heading to Ireland where we would leave the driving to the train conductor. 
     The final memories I have of the car are an eighty dollar parking ticket that we received from parking a vehicle with tandem wheels on a public street and a great picture of my family standing in front of the unforgettable beast. 
     The rental company ultimately paid for the eighty dollar ticket and the hilarious picture of my family sporting huge smiles graces one of the Haider family photo albums.
     I really did enjoy the art, history and architecture of our trip as well!

England 1999

     Stonehenge, Caernarfon castle, the ruins of Bath, St. Andrew’s Golf Course and Trinity College in Dublin are a few of the places my family visited while on a three week excursion to Great Britain and Ireland in 1999.

     The art, the architecture and the history were amazing and the education from such a personal experience, priceless, having said that, you will be shocked to learn that I am not going to write about any of it. The reason for this is that one of the funniest experiences we had involved our transportation and I will never forget it.

     My family arrived in London with enough luggage to clothe a small country. With the knowledge that we would rent a car for the entire trip, my mom got the idea that we should pack heavy and launder less. I’m not saying that her reasoning didn’t make sense, it’s just that European people travel differently than American people; Case in point, the size of one’s luggage.

     For starters, we each had one large piece of luggage on wheels, then we added a duffle bag and a backpack and there we were: the Haider family ready to backpack around Europe.

     Once our luggage had been gathered from baggage claim, we dragged our countless bags across the airport, down the elevator, through a parking lot, to the rental place where we finally stopped at our chosen car rental desk.

     We waited and waited and waited for my dad to get our vehicle. All of us were jet lagged, hungry and now cranky. What was taking so long? After an eternity of impatience, my dad approached us and asked us to follow him to the parking lot with our luggage. The rental place had given us the two largest cars they had on the lot. Yes cars—not car like we had expected.

     We dragged our luggage through the parking lot to the cars and piled the bags inside. It soon became apparent that the six of us and our obscene amount of luggage were never going to fit into those two “large” European cars. What to do, what to do?

     European people don’t just travel differently than Americans, they travel lighter; smaller bags, smaller cars. We looked like a bunch of gluttons trying to squeeze into those mini cars. It was terribly embarrassing. We sheepishly dragged our bags out of the cars and walked back to the lobby.

     The Haider women felt defeated by the embarrassing scene but not my dad. He’s a guy who gets things done, and he knew that there had to be a solution to the problem.

     After much negotiation and multiple trips to and from the parking lot, the rental people and my dad worked out a deal.

     My sisters, Shelly and Lora, followed my dad out to the car while Kate and I stayed with my mom as she signed the paperwork.

     I can honestly say that I was not the least bit prepared for what awaited us in the parking lot. My dad had just returned from the car to help with the remaining bags and directed me to the back of the lot saying, “just look for the biggest vehicle you see and that is our car.” Sure dad, biggest car, back of lot. I was really fighting my jetlag at that point.

     I walked slowly as I scanned my surroundings. Then I saw what looked like an assisted living bus and made a double take. Lora and Shelly were sitting inside of it. What the hell? That cannot be our “car.” The girls saw me coming their way and videotaped my reaction as I approached the beast. With my mouth gaping open and it’s sides curving up, I shook my head in disbelief. The girls were laughing and soon I was laughing along with them. When my dad said “look for the biggest vehicle” I thought conversion van, not city bus.

     The thing was so big that my six foot tall sister Kate could stand in it with room to breathe. A sign in the back read “Capacity Sixteen People.” The thing had an aisle and an emergency exit and there was room for two people to sit shotgun. Plus, it used diesel gas and had tandem wheels in the back. Oh yeah, the stick shift was on the opposite site of the car than at home. We were, after all, in England and now our dad had to drive on the left side of the road shifting with his left hand, how confusing!

     The thought of riding in this massive machine gave my sisters and me the giggles. Then we saw our mom. Her eyes were huge and she was shaking her head no as she approached us. “We cannot ride in this, we cannot ride in this,” was her response.

     My dad said that after much negotiation, it was our only option if we wanted our luggage to travel along with us. Then my mom got the giggles too, and with a few quick glances at one another, we all agreed to accept the beast as our transportation.

So Sorry

Hi People,
I am so sorry that I have missed a few Monday date nights. I have been diligently working on the completion of my book and the marketing strategies. I have now posted the second half of my Hawaii story below and hope you enjoy the conclusion. Look for my book trailer soon!

Hawaii 2

     One of the large group excursions included snorkeling and scuba diving. My certified sisters and dad decided to scuba dive while the rest of the group focused more on snorkeling. I wanted to snorkel so badly but after weighing my options, I chose to hang on the beach with my baby girl instead of joining the group in the water. I was very nervous that a shark would see my pregnant bod, mistake me for a large seal and have me for dinner. Dry land seemed to be a safer option, although Tina’s godfather thought otherwise.
     He is a Hawaiian cop and was very concerned with our choice of beach for our water activities. I guess many illegal happenings had occurred in that park and he was concerned for our safety. Luckily for us, he sent out a squad car to monitor the area while we enjoyed ourselves.
     But even with a police escort, my mother, with her sometimes skeptical attitude, thought that she should also monitor the area. She literally sat in a lawn chair next to the cars the entire time we were at the beach. I’m not sure what she thought she was going to do if someone actually tried to break into the cars, but she sat there just the same. I knew I got my stubbornness from someone. We all tried to convince her that a cop with a gun had a much better chance with “the bad guys” than she did as a fifty-four year old female, non-cop. She did not listen to our reasoning so we gave up and chose the beach over the parking lot. And in case you were wondering, “the bad guys” never showed up.
     Following our scuba/snorkeling outing, Tina’s godparents invited our entire group to Ala Moana Park the next afternoon for a real Hawaiian barbeque. How exciting!
     The barbeque was on a Sunday and apparently it was the thing to do that day because every Hawaiian on Oahu seemed to be grilling out in the park. Because of their experience with that particular park, Tina’s godparents showed up early and found us a nice spot on a peninsula and were well into the cooking process by the time we met up with them.
     My dad and I decided to strike up a conversation about Hawaii with Tina’s godfather as he cooked Hawaiian hot dogs. We both love Hawaii and wanted to know about his family and the Hawaiian culture but we could not stop staring at the hot dogs. They were red, bright red, almost fluorescent. I swear to you, I have never seen hot dogs like that before. With a little convincing, I did finally take a bite and they tasted the same as an everyday dog. I just hope that they were not as radioactive as they looked.
     While we tried to relax in the park, my daughter ran around like crazy exercising her little legs. Her favorite thing to say on this trip was “walk? walk?” She was just learning to speak and the word walk came out of her mouth most of the day starting at six o’clock every morning. Everyone in our group assisted me by taking turns walking with her because my pregnant body could only take so much. My girl and I were so lucky to have so many loving people around willing to help us out.
     The other focus at the barbeque, besides the hot dogs and my baby girl, was Tina and Luke’s wedding. Even though we were all on vacation, we were also extremely excited get moving on the wedding plans. We could not wait for the two love birds to tie the knot.
     First of all, we attended the groom’s dinner at Duke’s Restaurant and Barefoot Bar. That place has everything a person could ask for when visiting a tropical island. It has tiki torches, thatched umbrellas, a great view of the beach and ocean and great food. We ate, drank and enjoyed Tina and Luke’s last night of singledom.
     Later that night, the guys got together for a stag party in one of our hotel rooms and the girls hosted a shower/bachelorette party for the bride-to-be in another room. I can’t speak for the guys but the girls had a blast. We laughed, played naughty games and gave Tina naughty presents. We know how to have a good time.
     The wedding was the next day and took place midweek, leaving the bride and groom ample time for a honeymoon. And crazy enough, it was cold that day. When I lived in Hawaii, it did not get below eighty degrees ever but that day it was maybe seventy and windy. We were cold and we are from Minnesota. Nobody anticipated cold weather, so we were lucky if we had a light sweater in our luggage.
     We all met in the lobby of the hotel and received a lot of attention. Weddings in Hawaii are very common but being a part of one made all of us feel very special. We all looked great and were beaming from ear to ear.
     Once we arrived at the wedding site, the location helped us forget about the cold, for a while anyway. The site overlooked the ocean on a rocky cliff with Diamond Head in the background. Then beautiful trellises with flowers and vines enhanced the atmosphere while my dad strolled around playing the ukulele Tina’s Godparents brought to the wedding. Luke’s mom, brother and friend also joined us at the last minute giving us a grand total of twenty-two people at the destination wedding.
     My daughter was slated to be the flower girl and had practiced her flower tossing moves with Tina’s sisters before the main event, but once the wedding began, she decided to give up her roll and explore her surroundings instead. Luckily, someone videotaped the wedding because I missed the whole thing chasing after her. And let me tell you, running after an eighteen month old child in heals and pregnant was not an easy task.
     What I did experience during my time at the wedding, was ultimate joy. Tina looked beautiful and Luke as handsome as ever. Our mothers cried for most of the ceremony along with the bride, groom and all of the sisters. We are quite an emotional group.
     The pictures followed the nuptials and they were amazing. The ocean surrounded the backdrop with Diamond Head in the far distance. The sun was setting as everyone radiated happy thoughts toward the bride and groom. Even though it was cold, the pictures captured the spirit of the event not the goose bumps. I am now a huge fan of destination weddings after that wonderful experience.
     Eventually we had hit our tolerance of cold, windy weather so we gathered our things and headed to the Sheraton for the reception. I just love that hotel. It looks like an old southern manor with white porches surrounding it and the most beautiful banyan tree filling the entire outdoor patio. Then you add the smell of the ocean, the sound of live Hawaiian music and a loving family—what more could one ask for? That is what life is all about. If you don’t have family and friends to share life’s great moments, you don’t have anything. I feel blessed to understand this much about life at my age. Thank you, Haider and Fonio families, for your everlasting love, constant support and for a fabulous vacation.