Vacations...are they really fun?

There is an old saying: Home is where the heart is. I have to agree. Going away on a vacation is fun, but it is always great to come home. Which is a good thing. My following article may sound like a bit of lamenting, but it does have a bit of truth in it. Please, read it to the end.

We just came  back home after spending two weeks in Cuba. We stayed at the Memories Caribe Beach Resort in Cayo Coco, an island north of Cuba. It  is connected to the mainland via a land-bridge.

We enjoyed our stay, but we’re happy to be home again, at least I am, even though we came back to minus 18 Celsius and snow. When we left Cuba yesterday it was in the high twenties, the sun was shining and the ocean was like a tub.

It is great to go on a holiday, but after two weeks I am ready to go home again. Home to my comfortable bed, to my books, my computer, my fish, our canary, and all the other things that provide the comforts in my life. When I’m away from home I  miss all that, but most of all I miss my grand children. They are my greatest joy in life.

When I’m standing in my shower and the water temperature is just the way I like it, and the water comes out of the shower-head in a strong, steady spray I ask myself why do I bother to even go somewhere else. I’m like an old tree...my roots are at home.

I also ask why do I punish myself sleeping in uncomfortable, lumpy beds in small rooms with noisy air conditioners that work only half the time, rooms with cold, sterile ceramic floors, bathrooms with toilets that break down and showers with low water pressure and water that can change in a moment from ice-cold to scalding hot...or stop delivering water at all? The soap doesn’t foam and towels are like sandpaper. Sometimes there is no soap at all. I can’t even sing in the shower. Even the lighting in these rooms is never adequate.

At  home I have a big screen TV. In these rooms I’m lucky to get a descent channel on a 20inch TV with a bad sound. On top of that  I can’t turn up the volume because I have neighbors all around me who might want to sleep. But at the same time some of these neighbors don’t give a crap about if I want to sleep. They may even get up at six in the morning and  talk loudly in the hallway. Who the hell gets up at six in the morning anyway on vacation?

Closet space is at a premium and drawers are few. Of course, I don’t have much to put into the closet or drawers, because I brought only what I thought was necessary, expecting hot weather every day, my warm clothing, which I may need on cold evenings, is at home where I have many closets.

I also wonder why I want to suffer the annoying part before I board an airplane, when I get x-rayed and possibly prodded by people who make me feel like a criminal, where I have to prove that I am who I say I am, where I’m limited to the kind of stuff I can have in my pockets. They even make me empty my pockets, make me take off my belt, trust them with my wallet in a tray, while I get none of their trust. Then I finally have to sit for hours in a cramped airplane, afraid to get up to go to the bathroom because I don’t want to disturb the person who squeezed herself into the isle seat and is taking a nap. All because I wanted to have a window seat near a window that doesn’t really provide me with a great view of anything but clouds.

When I finally can’t hold it in any longer and I’ll make it to the bathroom I can’t stand up and have to crouch over the toilet because of the curved wall.

Yes, two weeks is enough for me, even if I see snow when I look out of the window. But it is my window and my yard that I see, my trees, my shrubs, my driveway that needs to be cleaned.

There are some benefits when staying home. I can put a CD into my CD player and play my kind of music. I can turn the sound up or down (well...to a point, because there is my wife to consider. She usually tells me to turn it down, but that is just a minor inconvenience).

In the morning I can sleep in if I feel so inclined. I don’t have to worry about getting up early and rush down to the beach to secure a beach chair and a spot in a shady location before other early risers do. And believe me, there are plenty of those.

I can broil a steak the way I like it on my own barbeque and eat it in my comfortable kitchen instead of in a huge room filled with noisy strangers sitting at tables much too close together. And I don’t have to tip anyone to get a good table. I can drink the water from the tap without getting sick and I don’t have to scrub my hands with hand sanitizer before I touch my food.

Yes, it is good to be home, and yet...why am I already thinking where I might go on my next vacation?

Is that crazy or what?

Well, anyway, we did have a good time and we're missing it already. Sometimes it is good to get away from all the comforts we're so used to and see how other people live. Not all are as lucky as we are. That's when we appreciate our comfortable homes and way of life so much more.

If you're interested in reading about our experience in Cayo Coco or look at some pictures click on 'Memories Caribe, Cayo Coco, Cuba' under the picture above and it will take you to that page.