The tickets are booked. The Princess Mom and I are flying back from Charleston, SC instead of parking our carcasses (because you do feel like dead meat after a few hours) in another motor coach for the 13+ hour trek back to Sarasota. We've emailed the travel agent the happy news. (God, I wouldn't want to be in his shoes the next time he hears from TPM. It ain't going to be pretty.)
You have no idea what a relief this is.
As an added bonus, because of the only available flight timing we'll actually be able to ditch our luggage and take a tour of Charleston, rather than just passing through. Given the bits we saw of it on our way to the ship, that's really going to be a treat.
The ride from the motel to Charleston was the very best part of the whole uncomfortable journey. Low Country is breathtaking. If my ass was aching, at least my eyes were feasting and happy. (And I'm going to have to find my way to blogmeets in both Charleston and Savannah. Both stunningly beautiful cities, both of which I want to spend a LOT more time exploring.)
After another round of Chinese firedrills and how many clowns can you fit into one of those tiny trick circus car routines, we were finally able to board our ship. It's a lot smaller than ones I've been on in the past, but it's also a brightly-polished gem. The food has been great so far -- a far cry from our last experience with Princess. There appear to be at least 5 cruise staff members per guest, and the scheduled events are pretty interesting.
It's an at sea day today, so we're mostly being slugs -- eating, reading and napping. This is what vacation is supposed to be all about -- truly relaxing. Ahhhhhhhhhh............