First Flight to Paradise

When I told Alex that he was going to fly high in the sky where Astro Boy patrols in the Millennium Falcon piloted by Han Solo and Luke Skywalker to visit the Pirate Islands, his eyes grew wider than his smile and the excitement began to build. When I told him that he wouldn’t be allowed on the Millennium Falcon if he didn’t poop in the potty, despite a lot of argument, negotiation, big old Crocodile tears, it finally happened after a year of desperate trying on my part to get him to do it– a huge step for us, and as far as I’m concerned, this single act paid for the all 3 plane tickets (if you know how much diapers, pull ups & wipes cost, plus environmental waste, you’ll agree.) Don’t worry, this post is not about potty training, that’s a whole other entry. I know you’re waiting with baited breath.



Anyway, on Friday, the day before our departure, I packed my luggage as well as Alex’s (and 2 days into the trip I realized I should’ve packed Peter’s as well… but again, different blog post about the virtue of the male versus female sensibility.) Alex had been waiting for a chance to sport his PB Kids matching Star Wars backpack and roller bag, and this was his big debut. So once all the flip flops, bathing suits, and every numeric SPF were safely in their designated sections and Ziploc bags, we moved the 8 pieces of baggage to the side doors, including carry-ons, and attempted to turn in early so that we could be bright eyed for our 2:30am wake up. Yup. 2:30. Wasn’t sure how that was going to go.

Naturally, I was in and out of terrible sleep, being an insomniac usually between 1-4 anyway, and a light sleeper the rest of the night; so at 2:10, I told myself to screw it, feed the fish, and get the coffee maker on. Everything went smoothly, since getting up that early to go to a tropical location made it much easier. Alex was in his car seat by 3:15 and we were pulling out of the driveway, with a very excited toddler who couldn’t help but announce very loudly that we were going to fly in the Millennium Falcon.

He stayed up the whole drive to LAX, and we made it with almost 2 hours to spare for our 6am flight despite the 405 SHUT DOWN and DETOUR through Long Beach. That’s right. SHUT DOWN and DETOUR. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal since it was 4am on a Saturday morning by the time we got there, but for the fact that the signs leading us through the detour stopped 3/4 of the way through the detour, and all of a sudden the compass on the car had us going East in a less than desirable neighborhood (lots of bars on the windows) and the three adults in the car (me, Pete, mom who was kind enough to get up at this miserable hour to drive our car home so we didn’t have to leave it in long term parking) looked at each other and decided that the AM/PM would be a wise stop for directions. So out I prance, a little overly jovial for 4am, to a mildly confused attendant who kindly redirected us back towards the direction we came, about 2 miles south west, towards another freeway which would take us South, then North, then back to the 405 N. Needless to say, he agreed with us that the detour signs and their counterparts who posted them failed miserably.



At LAX, we took advantage of the overpriced curbside check-in since we didn’t really feel like lugging all those bags plus car seat plus toddler inch by inch through the AA check-in; 2 minutes later, we were heading to an empty security line, where the stern TSA agent asked Alex his name, to which he responded “Luke Skywalker, Jedi;” it was nice to see a frown melt into a fit of laughter that quickly, and the line that was forming behind us got a kick out of our kid as well, despite the early hour. Off to our gate and breakfast, and before we knew it, with Swiss efficiency, we were boarded, belted, and taking off to Miami Int’l.

It was a pretty amazing warm and fuzzy moment to watch my son’s excitement as we taxi’d and took off, and for the next 2 hours he named each flight attendant a character from Star Wars, and we managed to occupy him with Duck Tales on the portable DVD player, snacks, a minute with the coloring book, and finally, he passed out.

The flight was an easy 4.5 hours, and with an early arrival, we landed in Miami to blue skies and a “train trip” to the baggage carousel, where all of our bags plus car seat were the very first ones down the chute. I don’t know what I did right in the universe that week, but I wasn’t about to tempt fate. Yes, I did thank God so far and asked him to keep it up. Please.

Naturally, Alex loved the train, the shuttle to the car rental, and was happy with a milk sippy cup as we drove the 80 miles south through the Keys to beautifully rustic Islamorada, a group of small islands that are part of the Upper Keys. We arrived at the Cheeca Lodge & Spa, an oceanfront 27 acre haven on Matacumbe Key, and took a deep breath. Vacation. The first get in the plane and go someplace tropical since our (not fabulous) honeymoon 9 years ago. Pete was long overdue.

Upon check in we were handed 2 glasses of champagne in the Tommy Bahama inspired lobby, with dark wood and ceiling fans that replaced the frigid a/c usually found in the south, and I almost teared up from happiness. The lobby was small, and by 5 paces I was at the back glass double doors and staring at warm water. Perfection.



We checked into our double queen with fridge (not mini-bar, fridge, major bonus points for moms traveling with kids who don’t need mini liquors and overpriced candy bars but a cool place to keep milk and yogurts.) We had a large screened in balcony which allowed us to keep the sliding glass doors open all night long – my only “complaint” (more an observation) was that while our room was supposed to be golf course view, we were totally obstructed by enormous palm leave, couldn’t see anything but the sky. On the flip side, we had total privacy, which is good since I have a habit of just disrobing without paying mind to open windows, and there was no direct sunlight to fry the room.



It was 88 degrees, blue sky, not too humid. Amazing.

Naturally, the first thing we did was toss on bathing suits and sunscreen, and head out to the water. There was an ocean front pool, Tiki Bar, plenty of ocean front lounge seating, a huge pier, and ocean front lagoon filled with fish for the kids in which to “snorkel,” but the beach was… well. Wasn’t. Sinking feeling set in. I was used to the beaches in the BVI’s, soft, white, powders – this was more rough, pebbly, not a spot you’d put a towel down it. I could see Pete’s disappointment too.

But this didn’t last; 1. No need to lay towel in sand. That’s what the excessive number of lounge chairs were for. 2. No sand castle building! We do plenty of that at home. 3. Exceptional pool and fish filled lagoon – Alex could practice swimming in both, no barracuda, sting rays, or tarpon. 4. We still could go in the ocean – warm, gorgeous 88 degrees clear ocean with NO waves. Perfect for me.

First dip in the lagoon

Naturally, Alex saw the lagoon with waterfall, and immediately we were in. And then he discovered that the lagoon was filled with small and medium sized fish, and we stayed in for the better part of the next week…

The next 24 hours, Pete and I spent a lot of time learning how to just relax. It had been a while since we weren’t on a schedule- no work demands, no contractors in the house, appointments, groceries, dry cleaners, dogs, cooking, karate, gymnastics… so after I hopped on the elliptical, Pete went for a gorgeous 4 miles run, and Alex spent a day in 3 different bodies of water, we figured out that it was ok to just do nothing. Or at least, not get in the car.





























The bulk of our beautiful stay was spent at the resort, where we kayaked 2 miles roundtrip everyday south of the resort to admire the beautiful coastline, real estate, and take a look at some amazing marine life in the 3-4 feet of water. We saw mostly rays and a few fish, but there was a lot of low growing plant life. We would float by sandbars, so at one point Pete thought it would be fun if we took turns getting out of the kayak for a photo – so we were standing in less than waist deep of water with Alex- which was fine while I was in the kayak taking the pictures of Pete and Alex, and then when it was my turn, I got out on the side of the kayak going against the very small current, but current nonetheless, and all of a sudden I’m there with Alex in my arms and Pete in the kayak is starting to gently, slowly, float away from me – which in retrospect wasn’t a big deal because I was in 2 feet of water, he had both paddles, and was within 6 feet of me at the farthest, but I am a panicky type in water, and all of a sudden my bare feet started to tingle and the gently swaying plant life started to reach out and grab me and I had the biggest creepy crawly feeling and … yes, freaked out in the water. Big surprise. Pete, laughing, told me to smile for the pictures, which I did through gritted teeth, and then he paddled back over to us (again, 6 long feet), grabbed Alex, and I threw myself into the kayak. Good thing we saw the huge Tarpon the next day…

Alex got a snorkel and mask, and practiced his swimming skills, we lounged by the pool, in the pool which was kept at a comfortable 90 degrees, walked around the resort, managed to work out, ate absolutely amazing locally caught seafood (Islamorada is considered the fishing capital of the world, and now I know why), - I’ve got to give Cheeca lodge massive credit for excellent food – I normally don’t eat much on vacation and frankly don’t want to given the whole constantly in a bathing suit scenario, but the food at the Lodge was so darn good, I cleaned my plate at every meal; I discovered and fell in love with Conch Fritters, and of course, took advantage of the amazing sushi on site, and most nights we got “take out” from the sushi restaurant at the resort where they prepared it picnic style of us and served us anywhere we wanted – which was usually on the gorgeous outdoor lounge furniture overlooking the ocean….

and we even saw a shark feeding…







I could technically walk across Matacumbe Key from East to West in about 5 minutes – it’s was a long skinny glorified sandbar, and we were on the Ocean side, as opposed to the Bay Side. The Bay Side looked more like what you see in movies about the Gulf of Florida – thick green vegetation, very still water, sharks, crocodiles. In fact, this area is the only area in the Northern Hemisphere that has true crocodiles… awesome, I know… Luckily, the sharks were also predominantly on the Bay Side as opposed to the Ocean Side, so guess which side we didn’t get in the water? Yup. Bay. But Alex and Pete did see the daily shark feeding at dusk when we went to a fabulous dinner at the Islamorada Fish Company just across the street from Cheeca Lodge on the Bay Side – nurse sharks, bull sharks, and tiger sharks all know where to get dinner. I stayed at the table and finished my margarita.

We had originally planned to venture down to Key West since we had a car rental, but time got away from us, and we ended up staying on Matacumbe Key. Pete didn’t shave for the whole week. I knew he was loving life.

Cheeca Lodge has a long pier used to dock the recreational boats but also is used for “fishing” – catch and release fishing which was naturally a huge hit with Alex. We bought live shrimp bait and he and Pete spent an hour carefully lowering the line in the water to “fish” – nothing was caught, so nothing had to get released, but Alex was thrilled. At one point huge black 4 foot long finned water creatures casting enormous shadows started circling the pier – mommy had a small heart attack at the sight, since I didn’t know it they were sharks or Tarpon. Turns out… Tarpon. Yay.







One big activity towards the end of the week was a quick 10 minute drive south to Robbie’s of Islamorada, a great restaurant made up of picnic style tables Bay front serving only freshly and locally caught seafood (think street food style) and beer (fresh mahi tacos and a corona made for very happy parents), overlooking the water; after a delicious lunch, we bought 3 buckets of bait, joined a flock of greedy pelicans on the private pier, and fed these giant biting fish called Tarpon (no fishing value and also protected in the Keys under Catch and Release laws) – the Tarpon numbered in the hundreds that day, some measuring up to 6 feet long, and were excited enough about the lunch hour that they were jumping out of the water to grab bait out of tourists’ hands – note, there was a precautionary sign indicating the danger of dangling a hand full of bait over the water… a couple people did get nipped. No blood though. The tarpon feeding was of course a highlight for Alex.













Friday was our last full day on the island and by that point, we figured out how to vacation. It was also our best day, and one that I will cherish for the rest of my life. A couple of day earlier I had decided to splurge and arranged for a private boat charter to take us on a couple hours water adventure. So Friday just after lunch Pete, Alex and I headed down to the pier to meet Captain Steve and board our vessel. Alex was a champ about wearing his life jacket, a relief to us that we didn’t have to battle a protesting toddler, and so in his vest he went, and off we went. Captain Steve took us a coulple of miles due East from the resort into open ocean, where depths in the clear blue water reached no more than 15 feet. We reached a protected reef area where boats are not permitted to drop anchors in order to safeguard the coral, and so we anchored to a mooring buoy (a big floating ball) and cut the engine. I was the first one in the water, which at 88 degrees in 88 degrees heat was ideal, next we lowered Alex in with us, in his life jacket and on his noodle, and then Pete jumped in. For the next 45 minutes, we snorkeled the reefs; Alex was absolutely giddy, life jacket and goggles on, holding on to his noodle, putting his face in the water to see the “Nemos.” We saw thousands of beautiful fish - schools of silvery fish, clown fish (a major bonus given the Nemo reference), purple and yellow fish, and the highlight for me was two giant parrot fish (I’m talking larger than our Cavalier Harrison) feeding on coral by repeatedly pecking so loudly I could hear it; towards the end of our swim, Pete and Alex were about 20 feet away from me, as I boldly decided to follow the parrot fish, and all of a sudden I look down and see an enormous sting ray that had a circumference of at least 6 feet and a stinger that was at 4 feet long… and it was elegantly flapping its wings? In a constant motion in order to cover itself with sand – but that stinger was still out and about and a little too long… and if you know me at all, you know that I’m nervous in the water to begin with, and so this is where panic started to set it. The lapping of the water against my mask went from peaceful and relaxing to deafening, I could hear my own heart beating, my breath got shorter, muscles tightened, but I didn’t want to freak out for no reason, and I didn’t want to freak Pete out, so I motioned to him and he and Alex swam in my direction, and stopped to see the ray doing its dance as we headed back towards the boat. A minute later I froze, since out of the corner of my eye I saw something shiny, and looked to my left – a perfectly still 3-4 foot long silver spear was suspended in the water, looking at me sideways with one eye… barracuda. Great. I’ve snorkeled in the BVI’s several times and have gotten caught in schools of barracuda before, so I was happy to see no more than one as opposed to… more than one. But still, where there’s one, there’s more. So I grabbed Alex’s noodle with him on it, and swam as fast as I could back to the boat while trying not to freak out more. Captain Steve lifted Alex into the boat first, who was so thrilled to tell him about the fish in the water, and next Pete and I climbed up the ladder, and our dear Captain handed us cold beers from the cooler, Alex got his apple juice. Once the beers were open Pete looked at me nervously and asked if I saw the barracuda to which I replied yes, that would be the moment where I grabbed Alex and swam like hell back to the boat; he laughed, admitting that he saw it too right after the ray, and was hoping I hadn’t since he was afraid I’d have a mini heart attack.









Captain Steve then took us to a sandbar a couple miles north of where we had snorkeled, about a mile off the coast this time; we found ourselves standing in 18 inches of pool-clarity water and white pebbly sand, and he anchored alongside other boaters who were wading and picnicking, and while we enjoyed and early happy hour, Alex played with water guns and inflatables. We finally climbed back into the boat, and after Alex demanded that Captain Steve go “faster and faster” we went on a little tour along the coast and headed back to the resort for rest and pool time before our last dinner on the island.

For our last night, we dined at the Morada Bay Café, a bay side restaurant also across the street from our resort, with chairs and tables in the sand and maybe the most glorious sunset I’ve ever seen. We enjoyed tapas style seafood, of course my conch fritters, Alex added red snapper to his diet, and we finally got in a slice of key lime pie.





We were sorry to leave, since vacation is so sweet, but now our appetite is whetted, and we’re looking forward to making more wonderful family memories next year. I’m thinking Turks & Caicos?