Paradise Found

July 27th, 2007 at 09:13pm Keith Hemstreet 8

I just returned from a vacation to Florida. I’ve never considered going back to the place where I grew up "a vacation" and argued with my wife that we go somewhere different. “Let’s go to Kauai, or Zihuatanejo, or Alaska,” I begged, but my wife wouldn’t have it. “We’re going home,” she said, and that was that.

Typically when I go back to Florida, my wife and I spend most of our time driving all over God’s half acre to see family and friends. Breakfast with my parents, coffee with an old high school buddy, lunch with my sister, a visit to grandma’s, dinner with my wife’s parents. Not that that is a bad thing. I enjoy spending time with these people. It’s just not a vacation.

Walking from the airport with our heavy bags, the heat hit us like a warm blanket. Before I got to the car, I was drenched in sweat and ready to rip someone’s head off. We drove through downtown and hit dead-stop traffic. Roads everywhere were under construction, the neighborhoods in disrepair. Sketchy characters loitered on the sidewalks like buzzards waiting for a helpless victim on which they could feast. I felt as if we were at risk of being car jacked.

Safely at my parents, I turned on the local news. The feature story was “how to protect yourself from becoming a murder victim.” Not the kind of thing you need to worry about in Aspen, but in Florida, you never know when you’re going to find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I sat there for a minute, lamenting our decision to spend our valuable vacation time in this humid, sprawling, traffic-riddled, murder-happy-metropolis. Fortunately, my wife is a glass-half-full kind of gal. She pointed out that millions of people each year actually choose Florida as their vacation destination and suggested we view our home state through the eyes of a tourist.

Surprisingly, this simple suggestion made all the difference.

We spent most of our days on the beach with grandparents, sisters, brothers, cousins, nieces and nephews. We ate packed lunches, sipped cold beers brewed in Key West, swam in the warm summer waters, read our novels under the shade of umbrellas, and watched with sheer joy as our girls splashed around in the waves, collected shells and built sandcastles.

Since our parents were there to help with our kids, I even had the time to do some kayaking. I paddled aimlessly, visited along the way by manatees and dolphins, until I came to a deserted island, it’s trees mangled and fallen from the hurricanes of 2005. There, on my own private beach, I swam in the shallows amongst tiny fish and a family of stingrays. Three pelicans flew past, patrolling the beach like F-16 fighter jets in formation. I have to admit, I was actually enjoying myself.

At night I would take a swim in the pool. Following a long day in the sun, the nighttime air actually felt cool on your wet skin. After swimming I’d walk to the beach to watch the nighttime thunderstorms on the horizon, a light show of orange and white that could challenge the aurora borealis.

I, a consummate nail biter, determine the relaxation quotient of a vacation by the length of my nails at trips end. Sipping a coffee at the airport terminal before returning to Aspen, I noticed that my nails were as long as they had been in years.

It suddenly became clear. What you take away from any destination depends on the eyes through which you choose to see it.

Entry Filed under: Aspen, Travel