Day Four: Goodbye

I am so late posting an entry about the last day of my birthday trip! This is the fourth and final installment of my captivating and surprise-filled 40th birthday trip. Warning: Contents may cause eyes to turn green. To alleviate, please laugh and be entertained by the retelling of my hijinks! You also may want to start reading here.


Holy smokes! It's been forever since I wrote about my birthday trip. I have one more day to go . . . I'll have to recollect my thoughts as I type as it's been a while since this most extraordinary experience! Let's see, where did I leave off . . . oh yeah, we were hopping up the stairs to our big, high bed. Nighttime activities are noneya (none ya business!)


Morning time, another lazy day in the bed -- not wanting to get up but not really tired anymore. And so not hungry after we've stuffed our faces all weekend long. What's that I hear? Could it be raindrops on the roof? Nope, no disappointment here. I'm done with Catching Fire and I really need the final book, Mockingjay, so I can curl up with another good read. Good thing our cabin is right next to the library so I can use the Wi-Fi to download to my new iPad. Got it! Now it's time for me to hustle on over to the spa (dashing through the rain) for yet another one of my birthday surprises - CLH booked a massage for me. Oh, how I love massages.


An hour or so later, I'm back to my honey who whiled  the morning away in our cozy little cabin. Our stomachs were finally starting to rumble. Lunchtime - time to make our way to the pool's cabana bar to order something delectable and sample some of the island's specialty drinks. Luckily we had the same great bartender that made those scrumptious welcome margaritas but I have to say, nothing else beat them so I stuck with my favorite salty drink. 


Although not a swim up bar, it was just a hop and a skip away from the pool. The slight drizzle hadn't deterred a couple of couples from taking a dip. I don't know if it was for our benefit but one of the men started to get obnoxious. He was convinced that his voice was smooth as silk and his fingers moved with magic across a guitar. I hated to break it to him that we were wincing with every sound that came out of his mouth and with the size of his belly, it looked like his fingers might conjure up more magic opening the refrigerator. He summoned the resort manager like he was some Arabian prince and practically demanded that some special guitar be located on the mainland and brought over. He wanted to perform at dinner. CLH and I gathered ourselves up and moved to the verandah on the other side of the resort. All I know is that we didn't see that guy again. More importantly, we didn't hear him again!


With feet propped up, an icy drink beside me and the light drizzle softly pelting the porch overhang, I got lost in the land of Panem.  Oh, poor Peeta, Katniss and Gale. You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? Get yourself the Hunger Games series, seriously. The movie opens in March. Be prepared.



Time to get ready for dinner. My, how times flies! We wandered the rest of the island on the way back to our intimate little cabin and the awaiting outdoor shower. Let's just say showering outside is not all it's cracked up to be -- although every shower we took was outside, even though we had the indoor option. No need to get too fancied up -- this place is very laid back. CLH likes me best in a sundress and little makeup anyway. The rain had disappeared a little too late to dine on the beach but in its wake, it had left another orangey-pink, cloud-spotted, lightning-streaked sky. As the maitre d' scooted us closer to the table, we got quite a show . . .

I was handed my own personalized menu wishing me a happy birthday. I can't even remember what we had but it was delicious. The atmosphere, the individual attention and service, the view and of course, the company wiped my memory. It was complete sensory overload -- give me a break, at least I can remember the visual enough to give you that run down. 

Dinner and dessert, done. Now comes time to sign the chit and CLH needs to run all the way back to the cabin for the bathroom.
Me: Just go here.
CLH: I don't want to go here.
Me: Ok, whatever. (Who am I to argue about? I wouldn't have either.)

After joking with the server about being ditched on my birthday, I made way through the dark with my little flashlight, which now seemed miniscule.  Oops, I think I took a wrong turn. There's a big black rock in my pathway. Freeze! That's not a rock. Whatever it was, it was facing me head-on and had also frozen in its tracks. Ever so calmly, I turned on my heel and headed in the other direction -- quickly. Bam! I ran right into our cabin. What a relief.


As I was ascending the stairs, I noticed the flicker of candlelight through the ajar door. I pushed it open a little further and the room was awash in candles. I followed the trail of rose petals to the enormous bed --  and CLH. Enough said.


Morning has broken. Bummer. Time to head back to reality. Still not ready for something else to eat, we packed up our stuff, called for the bell hop and headed to the dock to await The Truman to take us back to the mainland. Once again, we were at Little Palm Island's Welcome Center. It was time to pony up some cash. I doubt we'll be taking a trip like this again anytime soon. They handed us the keys to the convertible that was already running. How cute! They left us a card in the dashboard that said, "Don't be sad to leave. Be glad it happened." True that.

A quick jaunt back to the Key West airport and another quickie back to Jacksonville and we were home to our much-missed babies. If only they had missed us as much. They didn't want to leave their Yaya. I hugged them close and said, "Don't be sad to leave. Be glad it happened."

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