Hitting the road early has always been a family tradition for me. Now that I have my own family, that tradition is continued and looked on with fond memories. From the time the alarm goes off at 5:30, my eyes open widely with a “where am I?’ Moment! After the initial shock of that wears off, it’s time for a quick hot shower to shake the reset of the sleep out of my system and find the first caffeine burst of the day.

Melissa, My better half, has already started the furious last minute details only she can accomplish with her motherly love and patience as I exit the shower. Bless her heart! After the hustle and bustle of the pre-planned efforts to load the truck and the kids, it’s time for M to get her much needed and well deserved coffee as we hit the road.

Now I’m going to go ahead and say this, but try not to judge to harshly. I was in fact the “passenger princess” for the first 3.5 hrs of the first leg of our trip. That fact is a direct action in that Melissa gets motion sickness, and the first bit of our journey had some windy roads that she can navigate herself, without the effects of her nausea kicking in. There, full disclosure.

Being the navigator of the first leg was still pretty relaxing if I’m being honest. As we drove through the mountains of East TN on our way up to Asheville, NC, the clouds were still lying heavy on the ancient mountains. A dense and ethereal fog hung draped over the trees, reminding us that even though we are on our way to the ocean, the beauty and majesty of our home is still reminding us of why we call it our happy place.

After 3.5 hrs of Melissa behind the helm, it was my turn to take over the duties of navigating the interstates traffic. For anyone who has been behind the wheel lately, you know what I mean when I say, that shit sucks! It seems that during Covid, people in general forgot how to be a decent driver, and human being. The common sense we used to have, has completely vanished. People drive around like they have nine lives to live. Blows my mind, but that’s a soapbox I can get on later in a different post.

After an uneventful drive down, thankfully, we made it to the condo. Now here is where it gets interesting. Upon arrival, we grab our gear and stuff into what looks like an old Target shopping cart that has been rebranded as the owners of our suite’s personal property. Clue number one as to the shit show that was about to unfold.

We quickly hit the elevator and go up one story to our room that sits just off to the side of it. Hit the door code and enter. First looks are that everything is going to be hunky-dory, but that my friends was not the case.

Kids pile into their room with a stacked bunked bed theme, hit their bathrooms, and then we proceed down the hall to our master suite that faces the ocean. I was lagging behind, trying to get the dilapidated cart offloaded and the gear stowed safely into the hall way when I hear something to the effect of, “Are you serious? What’s going on here”, to which I responded confoundedly, “HUH!”

Entering the room, I am suddenly hit with the conflict I was previously alerted to a few moments ago.

Charleston was hit by the recent storm(Debby), and apparently that storm had unleashed its fury on our specific master suite’s floor.

Now, I am not one to complain, but this, this had me a little torn up. Pun intended.

I guess after reflection, now that I am writing this, our family motto is “Adapt and Overcome”, which is great when you’re in the woods and a sudden hail storm comes rolling through unexpectedly, but this kinda rubbed me the wrong way. You pay for a nice place, expecting things to be in top shape after spending top money, and BOOM, you walk into this disaster unfolding in front of your very eyes.

What is one to do? How do you proceed with the issue at hand? First response is “well this could be an issue that pisses me off the entire time, or just try to fix what we can, hit the owner up and explain the situation, and let them deal with it in kind”. That’s what Melissa did. She contacted the owner, to which she responded, “I’ve been on vacation myself and I was not aware of the situation” (Maybe BS, maybe not). After a lengthy back-and-forth communication via an app, the owner’s resolution was to refund a portion of the money, find a suitable runner to cover up the damaged spot, and wait to see what a contractor can do on Monday.

So I did what any reasonable adult of drinking age would do, I cracked a beer, replaced some wooden slats, threw some rugs over the troubled area and took the ladies down to the ocean, and enjoyed a frothy adult beverage as the waves crashed around us, drowning out the belligerent cursing racing through my head.

After the beach and all its wondrous glory, we trekked back to the pool area and washed ourselves off. Having been calmed by the adult suds and the ocean spray in my face for a couple of hours, we were ready for some dinner!

Earlier down at the pool, we met a guy and his daughter, the same age as Melissa’s youngest. The kids having hit it off, we engaged with the gentleman and exchanged the usual pleasantries one does when meeting a stranger for the first time.

Having learned he had been here almost a week already, we inquired about the best places to eat and visit around the Island.

He gave us some hot takes and we listened.

We stopped into a place called Rita’s, and let me tell you, it definitely lived up to the hype. After putting our name in the waiting pool, we on a little shopping side adventure and awaited our text to come back.

Let me say this. The portions you receive there are hearty ones so buyer beware! I had the BBQ nachos that were stacked to the ceiling, and well more than i imagined! Delicious!

Melissa had the pork belly with grits which were slamming! Highly recommend!

Now, I’m sitting on the deck which faces the ocean as Melissa takes pictures of the moon, which tomorrow is supposed to be a Super Blue Moon, one of the biggest of the year, and we are plotting our next move.