I know you thought I was originally going for the alliteration.
But actually, I’m sharing with you the tradition my husband has set up for us, which he got from his father. When we go on a trip, he gets us a CD or music from a specific artist, and we listen to it a lot, or all the time, while we’re away. Ever afterward, when I hear that artist or a song from the CD, I think of the wonderful time we had together.
It all started six weeks after we began our relationship, in July 2011. Joshua was leaving for Israel for over a month, and he left Andrea Bocelli’s Sogno with me, to keep me company. It was supposed to be romantic, but I actually can’t listen to that CD anymore without feeling sad. 🙂
After that, we decided to keep the CDs for times when we were together, not apart. Carla Bruni accompanied us on our honeymoon in Paris, France, and we made the obvious choice of bringing all of Chicago’s best hits with us to Chicago, IL. This past weekend, Michael Buble’s newest album, To Be Loved, came to Beaufort, SC.
I was expecting beach, and had built my entire wardrobe and our packed food for Saturday around beach. We had found a beach within easy walking distance from our hotel, and planned to do that on Saturday. That morning, we discovered that it was actually three miles, but the whole thing was sidewalked, and the alternative was sitting in our hotel room and reading, or something. Joshua decided that we should be more adventurous.
We started off, clad in bathing suits, cover-ups, and flippies, to the water park. It very quickly got very hot. After what felt like 2.75 miles (it had only been 1, it turned out), we took a break at a small, scenic battery, where a hawk also decided to take a break, within 10 feet of us. Majestic creature, that.
We trundled on, or rather, trudged, until we FINALLY reached the water park. Except that it was a waterfront park. I had been under the impression it was a water park, which is why I was in a bathing suit, because I expected to be able to touch some kind of water. But no. This was a park in front of the water, which means the water is right in front of you – you can look, but you better not touch. There are ropes to prevent you from getting close to the water.
I couldn’t believe we had walked for three miles, creating enormous bubble blisters on my heels, to sit on a wall and look at water. Joshua was sympathetic. I can be quite a whiner, when the conditions are right.
First he offered to walk all the way back by himself, and drive over to pick me up, but I protested that he doesn’t like to drive on Shabbat. I suggested we sit and wait until Shabbat ended, around 9:15pm, and then he walk back and drive over and pick me up. <GRIN> But that was just a joke.
Then, Joshua had the bright idea that answered the whole problem.
I mean, not in the most literal, thumb-out-on-the-highway kind of hitchhiking. I mean in the catch-someone-keys-in-hand-in-the-parking-lot kind of hitchhiking. Much safer and, as it turned out, no fail. The kindest of kind women took us back to our hotel in her SUV. Her name was Katherine/Katharine/Catherine. She was a godsend.
The rest of our trip was pretty uneventful; we left Beaufort the next morning, after a delicious dinner the previous night at Saltus River Grill – highly recommend their parmesan truffle fries! – to drive up to Charleston, SC. We walked around that lovely city for a bit, had some amazing food at Caviar & Bananas (which, incidentally, does not seem to serve either caviar OR bananas) and chocolate at Christophe’s, and then drove home to celebrate my brother‘s birthday.
It was a very good time.