Going Off-Resort in Mexico: Swimming with Dead Bodies

Missed the first three parts? Start here.

After 45 minutes of hiking we arrived at a clearing in the jungle. It was a short structure that had two four-by-fours coming out of the ground and one across the top of them. Then a thin yellow twine ladder that disappeared into a three-by-three-foot hole in the ground. The hole I didn’t even see upon arrival.

We were to connect our harnesses to a paracord and rappel down into the abyss. Um, no. I’m afraid of the dark so I made my groom go first. He happily hooked up and headed into the black hole beneath us. A few minutes later we heard a splash. This was where we were swimming. In the black hole in the ground. Whelp, if I’m gonna die, this is at least a good story. After I slid down the rope and hit water, the guide quickly followed. Once he did, he turned on a flashlight so we could see our new pool and hundreds of bats fluttered to life, swarming above our heads and eventually flying out of the hole. “That’s why we had to enter in the dark, so they wouldn’t be flying around when we were trying to pass,” our guide explained.

He pointed his flashlight to the ceiling, and all of the walls around us. We were in a sphere of limestone that was about a third of the way filled with water. Most of it had seeped through the rock so it was crystal clear. It was about 100 feet across and actually romantic once you got passed the bats above. That is until the guide directed us to look down to the floor of the pool.

“This is a cenote, which was used to bury the dead. If you let the water go still you can see 126 skeletons lined up across the bottom. Cool, eh?”

And we could in fact see all of the bodies in the pool we were swimming in. So that was it for me and I headed to the  twine ladder to finish the swimming part of our adventure.

After a long, heavy climb, the three of us made it to ground level again. Another hike took us to a beautiful look out over a lagoon, where we learned we’d be zip lining across the entire quarter-mile lake. Again, not going first. The guide explained that the stick we’d been wielding was actually our brake and that we should hook it onto the singular line (usually there are two) once we got close to the end to slow down. Plus, two of the petite Mayan people would catch us. 

It was a beautiful ride, and exhilarating since we were flying down the line. Once I got close to the other side of the lagoon, I yanked down hard on my stick only to find that I was not slowing down. Seeing it all happen in slow motion, my partner and our Mayan friends noticed I was turning because I yanked so hard and was only inches from getting my legs sliced off by the nearby trees. Luckily, I tucked and they all caught me together as we tumbled to the ground.

After recovering from that, we were told we’d be canoeing back across the lake, but to be careful because there were alligators. Of course there were.

Having seldom kayaked and canoed before, we were a little wobbly in our strokes and balance, but the Mayan team decided it would be fun to race us back to shore. They of course beat us by many minutes and chuckled as they helped us step out of the boats and back toward the van.

The Save

Wrecked and ragged from the emotional and physical day we had, we both slept on the return to the resort. And the bottle of champagne I drank upon arrival was some of the best I ever tasted out of pure exhaustion and relief. 

So obviously we survived, but would I do it again? Probably not. Just like doing a back flip off my horse, the older I get the less brave I find myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still down for adventure, just calculated risk. 

In that vein, there are a couple tips I can offer you based on what we learned during this excursion and the many we have taken since.

1. Physical safety should always be a top concern.

2. Try as much weird food as you can, as long as you can reasonably presume safe food handling.

3. Trust your travel partner if they seem confident, and empathize with them if they second guess you. 

4. Do something local that you can’t do anywhere else in the world.

5. There is no shame in drinking champagne upon your return.

What was your scariest travel story?

Going Off-Resort in Mexico: Drinking Unknown Substances in the Jungle

Between Coba and our next stop was another hour of driving. This drive was peculiar because it was straight, flat and there was nothing on either side for the entire trip. The jungle rose above us for at least 30 feet; there were no intersections, no driveways, and no other vehicles.

We finally arrived at a clearing and the driver turned in. No signs, no entry gate, no other tours. The guide explained that he didn’t speak Mayan and that the Mayan people assisting us today didn’t speak Spanish, and definitely no English. He shared that we would be seeing a shaman to help us gain spiritual entrance to the jungle, and from there we would be hiking, rappelling, swimming, zip lining and canoeing so we should only bring with us what we were comfortable getting wet. Back in 2013, that meant leaving our phones in the van, no photos, no emergency calls, no identification if we disappeared.

We changed into our swimsuits, tossed on a layer of shorts and a tank top and our trusty Tom’s. Meanwhile the other couple decided they had enough and would not be partaking. The guide explained that he could not return them to the resort at this time and their only options were to join us or sit in the van in the Mexican heat until we returned. They chose the van.

Our guide then took my partner and I on a short walk to a pavilion where we met a petite bearded man, assumably the shaman. He boiled a brew of water, herbs and literal sticks before pouring it into a tin can and passing it to each of us to take a sip. The guide explained that they do this as part of the formal ceremony but the concoction is a sweet drink children often enjoy as a treat. After taking a sip we were directed to close our eyes while the shaman chanted, sang and slapped our faces with a handful of leaved branches. Jarring considering we had our eyes closed. He then blew into an eight-foot horn for what felt like a hour before the guide asked us to repeat after him: We come to enjoy your gifts; we mean no harm. In hopes of the jungle accepting us into its belly for the afternoon.

Before we left for our hike, we were handed a harness and helmet, presumably for zip lining. And then a thick stick about the thickness of a patio umbrella pole. At one end it had another branch, making the whole thing look like a giant check mark. “What’s this for?” I asked naively. “For these,” our guide said after hitting a crude poster full of cougars, monkeys, rodents, spiders, birds and more. “If you see any of these, hit it.”

I thought he was joking until we started our hike and he looked like he was hiding from assassins, shoulders hunched, eyes darting left and right every second, knuckles white from gripping his stick and other supplies.

By this point in the day I had already experienced a rollercoaster of emotions ranging from fear to exhilaration, but all at extreme intensities.

“Don’t touch trees that look like this. It’s poisonous but the antidote takes about three hours to make and you’ll be dead before then.”

“Wait, which tree shouldn’t I touch?!”

Read part four.

Going Off-Resort in Mexico: Unsafe Climbs and Inedible Buffets

Um, what? You want me to get out on the side of a highway and sit on a bus bench to wait for a new tour guide? Suddenly my khaki-shorted pair didn’t seem so scary.

“No,” I declared in the firmest voice I could muster. “We don’t want to be left alone. You will need to wait for the tour guide with us or take us back to the resort.”

“Your tour guide is running very late today so he asked me to pick you up. He’ll be here soon. We can wait with you.”

Would have been nice to know, I probably would have rather waited for him at the resort but sure. 

Eventually, a white and teal-clothed gentleman arrived in a marked van for our tour. And I released all of the nightmare endings in a massive exhale. And there was another couple in the van already, an Asian couple who didn’t speak any English, and only a couple words of Spanish, we tried...

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of our troubles on this adventure.

The day continued with a two-hour drive to Coba, an ancient city of the Mayan culture that was the hub of commerce. Technically larger than Chichen Itza and free to roam and climb as you wish, it was significantly less crowded. We rented bicycles and our guide cautioned us that they had “Mayan brakes,” meaning they didn’t work at all. Plus it was pouring down rain. The guide shared so many amazing stories about the sports stadium, the homes, the granary, the town square. I’ll never forget learning that the winners of the no-longer-played sport “got to” sever their own genitalia as an offering to the gods.

Like many indigenous people of the time, pyramids were common and we got to climb the tallest one in the region. But unlike in the United States where everything would have safety signs and operators on hand, there was no railing, no safety anything. It was a little precarious, but we made it to the top and used a rope to climb down. So magical to be above the tree line of an endless jungle, to look out and see nothing but treetops.

After working up an appetite, we returned our bikes and drove to a little “restaurant” along the side of the road. After climbing and biking all morning we wanted to wash our hands before eating which was impossible because there was no sink in the entire building, not even in the “bathrooms,” which were holes in the floor like a port-a-potty.

Our guide explained that this was a buffet lunch, but that he liked the tomatoes. Just the tomatoes? Yep, he salted tomatoes and that’s all he put on his plate, sliced tomatoes.

If you know me at all, then you know I am a picky eater and texture matters.

As we rounded the buffet table peering at the unlabeled dishes, I began peppering my partner with questions: Is that hot? Is it cold? Is that cheese? Is that mayonnaise-based? What is that meat? Is that mold on the noodles?

He still teases me. But yes, we did get severe indigestion a few hours later. 

But before our diarrheal doom, we had four more hours of adventure.

Read part three.

Going Off-Resort in Mexico: Getting in an Unmarked White Van

We went to Riviera Maya, Mexico in September 2013 and stayed at the foodie, all-inclusive resort El Dorado Casitas Royale. We had a private suite with an outdoor shower, a day bed and a swim-up salt water pool with a bar and a hot tub. I’ll never forget the candlelit dinner on the beach, the coconut macadamia nut pancakes and the phenomenal service we received at the resort. There was plenty to do including a 5k to support the turtle sanctuary, games and activities, and classes and shows. 

But this post isn’t about the five-star resort. It’s about our adventure leaving the resort, one of the few times in my life I felt truly scared.

The Situation

While we did spend most of our time lazing around, stuffing our faces, and drinking way too many beach cocktails, we are not usually the beach bum types. So we knew six days of that would need an active reprieve in the middle. Our travel agent booked us a “hiking, rappelling, zip lining, swimming, canoeing” day in Mayan territory. We chose this particular excursion because it was less touristy than Chichen Itza but still explored some history of the native people plus added all of the fun activities.

We were told by our travel agent and again upon check in that on the day of our excursion we should meet the tour guide (who would be in white shorts and a teal polo) in the lobby of the resort at 7 a.m.

The Stumble

We got there early because, duh! But as we stood there watching each other couple get picked up by their tour operator, we started looking at our phones for the time.

7:10… 

7:16…

7:27…

Finally at 7:35, an unmarked white van pulled up to the resort lobby. A khaki short-wearing gentleman got out of his van, peeked at a clipboard and spoke my new last name. 

Every other vehicle that had pulled up had been wrapped in tour signage and all of them had white shorts and a teal polo.

I gave my partner a dramatic side-eye as I began to consider if it was really the right thing to do, claim that we were The Hendersons.

“He has a clipboard, and knows our name,” whispered my partner.

So we climbed into the white unmarked van with a stranger with whom we didn’t share a native language.

As we drove, neither the guide nor the driver spoke to us. After taking four years of basic Spanish, I could tell they were practicing English, which I thought was charming.

“Gato, cat.”

“Perro, dog.” 

“Caballo, horse.”

This went on for more than 45 minutes before I started checking my phone. We were going in the opposite direction of the expected tour. All my internal alarm bells blared and I started to panic. Silently I tried to not alert our captors. I started looking out the window at billboards and signs and, for some reason my non-panicked brain can’t figure out, memorizing license plates and cars near us. Why?!

My partner had of course fallen asleep so I woke him to help me panic.

After a few moments of imagining my horror movie ending on the broadcast news, the driver pulled off the side of the highway.

“This is your stop. Your driver will pick you up soon.”

Read part two.

Travel Resilience: How to make travel fun even when things aren’t perfect

No trip is perfect. Ever. In all my years or travel, I haven’t been on a single trip that didn’t have something go wrong. You can read more about that in my Travel Nightmares series. It can be something as simple as I couldn’t find a restaurant I was into, or something as big as the Airbnb we booked wasn’t uninhabitable. I’ve gotten a flat tire in the middle of nowhere, been lost in very busy traffic, missed flights and museum reservations, ruined entire suitcases of clothes, ended up a block from a major riot, and so much more.

But like in life, you have to figure out a way to address the situation and move forward. Your attitude can make all the difference as you solve the problem and enjoy the rest of your vacation. You can recover from almost anything. So here are a few examples and what to do to make the most of it.

Missed your flight?

If you’re at the airport, visit the nearest same airline desk agent to ask for help. They may be able to assist you right there, or they can point you in the direction of someone who can. Speaking to a person live is usually better than calling the help center of your airline. 

If it’s your fault you missed the flight or forces of nature, you will need to pay for the newly booked flight out of your own pocket. But if it’s the airline’s fault, they should cover the fare of the new flight and any additional costs you might incur like a hotel room overnight, meal vouchers, and ground transportation transfers. 

Mildly stressful because you may miss out on a few hours of relaxation, but in the end, it’s not a big deal. At least you can still go.

Car troubles?

If it’s an accident or a breakdown, it’s best to stop and get out of the vehicle to assess the problem. Take a breath and consider your options.

Check to see if your or the rental car’s insurance company covers a tow truck or roadside service. Call a local repair shop to see if they can assist you or if they know someone who can.

Luckily when this happened to us, we were traveling with friends in another vehicle who helped us change the tire and followed us to a local repair shop to purchase a new one.

If it’s something less scary, like you’re simply lost in the medina of an international city where you aren’t as familiar with the road signs, try to pull off the road and regroup before continuing driving. This happened to us in Seville, Spain while trying to find our Airbnb. I had printed out and studied all of the Spanish road signs, but those one-way, narrow streets were super confusing. We ended up having a bunch of locals yelling at us in Spanish and trying to help, but we only knew derecha and izquierda (right and left respectively), and with bicyclists ramming their front tires into our back bumper, we were a little flustered. So after making a 57-point turn to get out of that particular intersection, we found a spot to pull off out of the way and regroup. We actually ended up calling our Airbnb host who was awesome enough to come to where we were parked, got in the front seat of our car, and directed us to the parking garage.

Unworkable lodging?

We’ve all been to the grubby hotel or Airbnb in a less than stellar neighborhood. Most of the time we can make it work but if you get into a place you just can’t be comfortable sleeping, don’t force it. You need a good night’s sleep to enjoy the rest of your vacation tomorrow and beyond. Sometimes the hotel can swap rooms, or Airbnb customer service can help you find something else. It may take a few minutes and it’s always a little nerve-wracking telling someone else you’re unhappy and need them to fix it for you, but it’s worth it. And that’s part of their job. Most of the time, the host or hotel would rather have you speak up so they can resolve the issue than have you write a bad review or tell your friends and family how awful it was. 

I bailed on an Airbnb recently and was so glad I was able to find something else last minute rather than suffer through the bad experience.

Health issues?

Before you leave ensure you have health insurance that will cover you and your travel partners in case you get sick or injured on your trip. You may be doing adventurous things or eating strange foods not part of your normal routine so there is a higher likelihood of something going wrong. You should always bring basic medications like ibuprofen, allergy medicine, Tums, band aids, and more with you for minor things. But you should also memorize the 9-1-1 equivalent in the place you are visiting, and know how to find a pharmacy (often in Europe they are denoted by a green cross). I once had to ask for medication for some sinus gunk in Portugal and it was certainly an interesting experience. Medications in other countries are different than the States so be sure to check the dosage and instructions. And don’t be alarmed if the pills have a sweet candy-like coating on them. 

The experience you booked sucked?

Sometimes the concert, museum or excursion you booked just plain stinks. That happens. Not everything can be awe-inspiring or epic. If everything is a 10 out of 10, nothing is. Reframe it in your head as a now you know. I once thought parasailing was going to be exhilarating and it was boring. Now I know that that’s not for me. We once went to a concert at Red Rocks Amphitheater and it was a major fail. If I ever go again, I’ll change how I approach the day so I can prevent the bad parts.

And for me, I always consider that now I can help you have more positive experiences because of my own struggles. With proper planning and a good attitude, travel mishaps can go from a complete disaster to just a good story to tell when you return.

Review: Don’t Go to Seven Springs Mountain Resort

I feel like travel bloggers always talk about the things they love so when I’m looking at a place they haven’t posted about, I always wonder if it’s because they just haven’t been there or if they didn’t enjoy the experience. So for the sake of honesty, I think it’s important to share the life-changing trips as well as the ones that I hope to never do again.

One of those was a last-minute getaway to Seven Springs Mountain Resort earlier this summer. The stay home orders had just lifted in my state and my company had recently announced that they would not be permitting us to roll over any unused PTO. So while I planned a few more detailed itineraries to national parks, I booked my husband and I a week at Seven Springs to decompress and hike a little before the fall chill set in.

About Seven Springs

Seven Springs Mountain Resort is a rustic ski resort in Southwestern Pennsylvania. It normally offers 414 hotel or lodge rooms, 20 cottages/chalets and 16 bars and restaurants and a variety of summer activities for adults, teens and children like pools, horseback riding, bowling, mini golf, stand up paddleboarding, basketball, bocce ball, and more.

The room

I’ll admit, after traveling to so many places, we have experienced a wide variety of lodging and have certainly built up some pretty high expectations. I bet when this place was built, it was an adorably rustic lodge that local families loved to frequent. But it doesn’t appear to have been updated in half a century. It wasn’t unclean, but when furnishings are particularly old, it’s difficult to get the grime and dust out of all of the crevices. Trust me, I own a 120-year-old home.

We booked a queen room with a balcony and it would have been fine in most circumstances because we spend most of our time traveling out and about exploring our locale. But considering the coronavirus pandemic, we ended up spending way too much time in our room and by the end of our trip, it felt like a prison.

Additionally, the internet was poor quality so we ended up hooking up our computers to our phone data plans so we could watch Netflix, browse the internet, and do a little work.

The food

When researching Seven Springs as an option, I saw on their website that they had 16 different bars and restaurants which was great because staying at the same resort and not venturing out much would mean we would have some variety. Unfortunately when we arrived, very few of those were actually open. We had a pizza place, a coffee shop, a bar with only appetizers, the pool bar, a nice restaurant only open for dinner that required advance reservations, and a restaurant that did have service for breakfast lunch and dinner.

I completely understand the need to close restaurants or sections of restaurants to accommodate social distancing. However, I expect that is reflected on the company's website so that travelers can decide if that will suit them and plan accordingly.

With the exception of Helen’s, which was exceptional, the rest of the food was school cafeteria at best. If you live in the area or are passing through, do make a point to enjoy the service, food and wine at Helen’s. Otherwise, don’t bother. We cheekily nicknamed the main restaurant available Slopside instead of Slopeside.

There is a lovely little market up the road from the resort that has sandwiches and groceries if you are staying somewhere with a kitchenette.

The activities

Again, as I was planning this vacation, I explored the Seven Springs website and found all sorts of activities that would be perfect for outdoors and socially distanced from others. Unfortunately, much of that was unavailable for one reason or another. There are two kayaks for the entire resort and you cannot reserve them in advance and they were always in use. There was a disc golf course but on three separate occasions the staff couldn't find the discs and didn’t bother to look or go purchase new ones. The hiking trails were barely that, really just the wash beside the road or through the backyards of the cabins on the resort property. The one section that was a trail had a great view of the massive junk yard. 

We did enjoy services at the spa and sitting by the outdoor pool, but those things couldn’t take up a week’s worth of time on their own.

The service

Check in was a breeze. That is because the woman at the front desk asked for our name, then handed us a key. She did not ask if we had been here before, provide us a map, offer suggestions for meals or activities, share any details about what was closed or available, or even point us to the elevator. As a resort, one would assume that you’re paying for and taking advantage of the amenities on the property, unlike a simple hotel.

We only learned later after walking by another employee checking in another guest that we should have been given a parking pass to hang in our car in order to avoid being towed.

Many of the employees seemed to not take their service jobs seriously, playing pranks on each other in front of the guests, and not having a clue how to help guests.

The first time we tried to kayak, the website and pamphlet said to visit the activity center so we did. That attendant told us to go back to the front desk, on the opposite side of the resort. Once there, that attendant told us we needed to go to the ski lift. Once there, the ski lift attendant told us we didn’t need to take the ski lift up there, but that we needed to go to the activity center. Round and round we went until we finally figured out that we could drive up to the lake and pay for the kayak rental there. A few miles off the resort, a sketchy dirt road and no parking later, we made it to the top only to discover that we’d have to wait in line for a couple hours until the kayaks would be available. How frustrating.

The cost

While the cost is one of the only redeeming qualities, the value isn’t there. We spent about $1,500 for the week on the room alone which means just under $200 per night with no additional inclusive amenities. You can spend much less to get a significantly better experience elsewhere. Meals and all activities cost extra.

Would I go back?

We had terrible circumstances considering the non-stop rain and the coronavirus restrictions, but I still won’t return to Seven Springs Mountain Resort.

If you have a gaggle of children and are looking for a place you can let them run wild, go ahead and try it. But I would not get them excited about any particular activity until you are sure you can do that thing, otherwise risk temper tantrums. Which I had plenty.

We aren’t skiers, so perhaps a winter stay is a much more positive experience. Have you ever been? Let me know and I’ll happily share.

Cruising the Wrong Way: How to get on your ship before it leaves

Have you ever been on a cruise? Did you know you should always plan to arrive in your embarkation city the day before you depart? Back in the day when I first started traveling, I did not, and boy did I learn that lesson quickly.

The Situation

Like most broke post grads, the years after college graduation can be tough. Trying to find a new routine, how to ask for PTO, the best way to use it since you have so little. One of the very first trips I took with my now husband was the winter after I graduated. We were travel newbies and booked ourselves a cruise to the Bahamas using the points he’d racked up traveling for work. Ohio winters can be dreadful and we needed a little vitamin D.

We planned to fly out of Columbus on the first flight out and arrive by noon, the earliest we could board our boat.

The Stumble

Unfortunately, 6 a.m. is pretty early for showing up to work after a night of drinking. As the minutes counted down closer to our boarding time, the desk agent announced that the flight crew hadn’t arrived yet so we would be delayed until their arrival. Not worried yet, we had a 90-minute layover in Chicago so we were good.

When the pilot and his crew finally arrived to our gate, he openly apologized to the gate agent for their tardiness because he “took the gang out drinking last night” and they were “pretty hungover.” What?! Did I just hear the pilot say he’s hungover and I’m supposed to climb in a giant metal death trap with him in the driver’s seat? It’ll be fine, I kept telling myself. It’ll be fine. 

Luckily we got there in one piece, but it was a bad sign for what was to come. After dealing with the delays getting started and some weather in the air, we were now cutting it close to make our connection in Chicago. After grabbing our carry-on bags and running to the gate, we found that we did, in fact, miss our connection. So we spoke with the gate agent and she said that the only other flight from Chicago to Orlando was later that evening, well after our ship left Port Canaveral. She worked some magic and said that she could get us to Memphis and then to Orlando by about 2 p.m. (leaving us an hour to get from MCO to Port Canaveral, an hour before the boat leaves at 4 p.m.).

Feeling a little nervous at this point, I called the cruise company hoping to explain the situation and ask for any advice they might have. They were kind and said to keep them posted. She also explained that since this was just a four-night cruise and the first port was a private island with no airport, we would have to meet up with the ship at our own expense at the last port of call (and pay for lodging until then), missing almost the entire cruise.

Of course, we were delayed in Memphis, and then because we were booked last minute, we had whatever the last boarding zone is and were forced to check our bags at the gate. Even after pleading with the gate agent, she still sent our bags to baggage claim in Orlando.

We were now pushing a 3 p.m. arrival at MCO, and had to wait for our bags at baggage claim, and had now missed the shuttle we paid for in advance.

I called the cruise lady’s direct line she gave me when we landed and stayed on the phone with her indefinitely. She wanted to keep tabs on our location as the minutes ticked closer to the cruise ship leaving port.

Baggage claim felt like forever and then we ran to the taxi area to find a line 35 people long. It was now 3:15 p.m. The boat was leaving us in 45 minutes, but we were not giving up just yet. Desperate to make it before the ship left, we frantically explained our situation to the lovely folks waiting in line and they let us cut to the front, despite the taxi area manager’s dismay.

When we got in the next taxi, the driver sweetly asked where we were headed and explained that this was her second day driving a taxi and that she didn’t know the city well so be patient with her. Seriously? How did we get so unlucky.

My husband explained that we were heading to Port Canaveral and that he would pay her whatever she wanted to drive as fast as she was willing. So with the cruise ship lady giving us directions by phone and my husband on cop watch, this wonderful taxi driver drove 110 miles per hour the entire way. What usually takes an hour took about half that.

As we neared the port parking lot we could see the boat hadn’t left yet, just as the lady on the phone hoped for us. She instructed me to have our cab driver drive through the pay booths (which were opened for us), pass all the normal drop off areas and come directly to the door of the boat with all the queue lines.

She neared dock and of course her credit card machine wasn’t working so she had to find a pen and take down our credit card information so she could do it later. She hadn’t even pulled to a complete stop before a crew of four cruise crew members threw open the car doors and the trunk to grab us and our bags.

“RUN!” they screamed! “We’ll get your bags, just RUN!”

So with all the adrenaline building up all day, we sprinted. There were other crew members who had cleared the queue lines for us and were directing our race to the boat.

Someone must have been watching or radioing the captain because the very moment my foot landed on the red carpet of that ship, the horn sounded and the boat started moving. At 4:02 p.m.

We made it! 

No one checked our IDs, passports, inspected our luggage or even asked our names. They just got us on the boat before it left.

The Save

The crew took our bags to our cabin and sent us to the bar to recover with a drink.

I was a cocktail of emotions that only a tiki cocktail would fix:

• Grateful to the customer service woman who spent so much time and energy on the phone with me that day, and to the entire team who helped us get there

• Stressed out beyond imagination

• Exhausted from the physical and emotional adventure we just went on

• And most of all relieved that we then got to relax for the next few days

After crying out all my feelings and downing a drink, we went to our cabin to freshen up for dinner. We were so embarrassed by the whole thing, we swore that we wouldn’t mention the trip to anyone else on the boat, but the first thing our new table mates asked after introductions at dinner that evening was: “Did you hear we left a little late because there was this couple who was delayed arriving?”

My husband and I couldn’t help but smirk at each other and own up to our shenanigans. We told the story in visceral detail since it was so fresh and laughed it off with our new friends. We weren’t about to let that stress haunt our first cruise. But let me tell you, I will always recommend arriving the day before you leave to avoid another one of those misadventures.

When everyone else loves a thing that stinks: Red Rocks Amphitheatre

When we see all those gorgeous photos on social media it’s hard not to assume that everyone always has perfect, issue-free vacations. But that’s not real life. There are usually surprises that can impact your trip. As long as you take a beat and think through a plan, it’s easy for those little hang ups to lead to just a funny anecdote instead of a ruined trip.

The Situation

The first time I visited Colorado was a trip to Denver for my husband’s birthday. We visited the Red Rocks Amphitheatre but since it was January, there were no bands playing. We always said we’d go back so when I saw that one of our favorite bands was playing this summer, we decided to buy the tickets.

We had friends come in from Greeley to join us at the show too, so the day of the show we got dinner and then headed over. The tickets said 6:30 so using all our usual concert logic, we knew that if the tickets said 6:30 then that meant that doors open at 6:30 and the first band (the one we were excited about) would go on around 7 or 7:30. Planning to tailgate for 30 minutes before doors, we showed up at 6.

Unfortunately, we got separated from our friends when we entered the venue and ended up parking at opposite corners. Not having enough time to find each other before we wanted to head in, we decided to just go get in line. As we headed up the 400 stairs to the closest entrance, we realized we forgot our water bottle. My husband volunteered to go back down to the car to get it and while I found a plug to charge my phone a bit. I did see a 4 foot rattlesnake on my way up which was scary, but I also found an outlet so I could ensure I could take photos of the show without my battery dying. Navigating our trip means my phone dies more quickly than my travel companions’.

The Stumble

When my husband came back with the water bottle he accidentally went to a different entrance than the one we went up the first time, the one I was waiting at. I had all four tickets, the one for my husband and the two for our friends on my phone so he couldn’t just go in the entrance he was at. We tried texting and calling a few times but service is spotty in the mountains so we were having a difficult time connecting. Meanwhile the music began to play and we were missing it. 

We finally got through and I told him to drop a location pin and I would just come to him. When I got to the gate, I explained the situation to the woman and she said I should enter at this gate and then go let my friends in at the gates they were near. Sounded like a predictable answer, I just wanted to double check.

I finally made my way over to the gate where my husband was waiting and the woman at this gate explained that the tickets I have are no longer valid and that everyone must enter at the same gate at the same time. She berated us, but finally gave in and let my husband in the show. Now to do this all over again when we met up with our friends. Then we got a text saying that our friend fell on her way in and was heading to first aid. Luckily the paramedics didn’t give them trouble about getting into the venue but we were stuck on the other side of the stage from first aid.

The only way to get there was to go up the left side of the entire stadium around the back and down the right side. After all the stairs we had just climbed getting in here, I was not about to do that. So I hatched a plan to ask security if there was another way over there and gave my most convincing puppy eyes. The security guard gave into my plea and personally escorted us backstage, underground, and directly beneath the band playing through to the other side, no stairs required.

When we got to our friends, and found out that they were okay, just needed cleaned up a bit, we decided to go out and watch the last 15 minutes of the show. But when I pulled up our tickets, instead of seeing the row and seat numbers that I purchased, they said general admission instead, meaning we did not have actual seats and were going to have to fend for ourselves in this stadium madhouse.

Apparently most people knew to come early because there was an email sent at 9 a.m. that morning with all the details, but it ended up in my spam folder. These folks had been here since the 9 a.m. yoga class and stayed there squatting on seats. More seats than they paid for mind you. As we surveyed our options, we could see that most people were taking up about a seat and a half of the marked bleacher seats and even then, it was jam packed. Thousands of people were already standing along the steps, the top of the stadium, and everywhere you could see. Incredibly frustrated, we decided we would just stand along the steps and enjoy the last few songs. Until the security guards came over and asked everyone to move off the stairs.

Feeling defeated, we went back to first aid to meet up with our friends. They weren’t feeling great and we were mostly there for the first band, not the second.

The Save

Instead of trying to go back into the swarm of summer concert-goers to listen to a band we weren’t that into, we strategized a new plan.

Just leave.

We found a board game bar that was open for another hour and ordered ourselves some boozy milkshakes to get the stink off. While we certainly spent 15 minutes whining about the evening’s experience, we decided to put it behind us and move on.

Every single person I have known to visit Red Rocks had an amazing time, but we did not. Instead of letting it ruin our night or even our trip, we laughed it off and tried something else instead. It can be easy to let the frustration get the better of you, but it’s important to keep your emotions in check so you can think of a new plan in the moment.

I’ll share more travel nightmares in the coming weeks, but in the meantime, what was your worst travel experience and how did you recover?