The plan was simple. We would go to Europe and head to “the Kids” in Nîmes. Bounce around from there and see, eat and sunbathe our way through Europe for three months. After all, he was as retired as he could ever possibly pretend to be and I had just embarked on a journey of food, drink and photography that left my corporate job in hell (where it thoroughly belonged).
We would eat our way through and hit all the countries, restaurants and wine growing regions that meant something to us. Also see the beaches, weather permitting, lots of beaches.
I wanted to show him how I traveled. Free. Wild. Adventurous.
Now that I had the means, and no longer on a shoestring budget, we could stay in the nicer places. I could show him the world through the eyes of someone who loved to travel for the sake of seeing something you had never seen, heard or tasted. Not through the eyes of someone who was sent places.
I had not anticipated hearing that he could not make the entire trip, because of “work”(more on this new job later). In a stubborn rage I declared that I would go alone. If he could not go then I would sample the flavors and see the continent without him. After all, I am a strong independent woman!
We would fly from Honolulu to Ramstein, Germany on a Military Space A flight. These are a benefit to military personnel and retirees. Large military carriers with the occasional extra seats that will take you from base to base anywhere that they are going. Imagine standby, with fewer frills and military procedure.
This was the kind of wild travel that my little hippie heart dreams of.
As making up for our shortened travel, he bought us commercial flights to DC and from there we would get on the first available flight from Andrews Airforce Base to wherever we could get into Europe. Not a problem…
We would bee-bop around DC for a few days waiting for a flight as the schedules are posted every 72 hours. So no planning on the other end as we don’t know where we will end up.
This sounds perfect. What could go wrong?