The Calm After the Lock-In
Day six of our American escapade was meant to be all about taking it easy, lounging around, and generally giving our feet (and livers) a rest. But, as ever, life had other plans. Before we even got to the bit where we could stretch out on sun-kissed sands and sip something stronger than orange juice, we had a bit of an incident…
Let me set the scene: the night before, Michele and I had just tucked ourselves in for a peaceful night in our cosy Airbnb bedroom. All was right with the world until we attempted to leave the room. The door handle, clearly having had enough of our company, decided to give up the ghost. Broken. Done. Kaput.
Michele tried the usual British approach: phone the neighbours for help. In this case, Helen and Brian – our travel companions, heroes, and unsuspecting saviours – were the neighbours in question. Unfortunately, the phones rang out into the abyss. So she resorted to the tried-and-tested method of yelling. Loudly.
Our Knights in Shining Pyjamas responded swiftly. Brian sprang into action and released us from our wooden prison. Not quite a dramatic rescue, but a rescue nonetheless. The downside? We had to sleep with the door open like Victorian children terrified of ghosts. One can only imagine the horror if it had just been Michele and me in that Airbnb – we’d have been stuck for days, possibly surviving on nothing but sarcasm and leftover bagels.
The Morning Race (I Lost Again)
Morning broke, and I was up by 08:00, determined to beat the early risers. Alas, I was once again outpaced by Helen and Brian, who were already sipping coffee and looking far too smug for people on holiday. Michele stumbled out a good thirty minutes after me, clearly not competing in any Olympic breakfast prep events.
Breakfast of Champions
Now, let’s talk breakfast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and bagels. Oh, and cream cheese – because we’re fancy like that. A true team effort: Helen did the eggs and bacon, Michele and I mastered the mushrooms, and Brian… well, he took on the glamorous role of Dish Washer Extraordinaire. We all have our strengths.
By the time we were finished, we’d consumed enough protein to sustain a rugby team. Possibly two.
A Trip to the Land of Oddities: Walmart
With bellies full and energy high, it was time for a vital American ritual – a trip to Walmart. I’d been warned, but nothing quite prepares you for the cultural experience that is a Floridian Walmart. The people-watching is truly next level.
There we were, innocently trying to buy bread and cheese, when we encountered the Checkout of Doom. Picture this: a sweet little old lady ahead of us, clutching a stack of coupons like they were golden tickets. Her 50-cent saving had to be just right, and it took approximately ten minutes of back-and-forth before the cashier conceded. Bless her thriftiness, but also – we were beginning to age.
Where’s the Booze?
Another thing about American supermarkets – they don’t tend to sell hard booze. Nope. You’ve got to pop next door to what’s known as the liquor store. Sounds all very hush-hush and prohibition-esque. Thankfully, Michele found her beloved Amaretto, so the day was saved. Crisis averted. We could all now look forward to a civilised evening drink (or three).
Lunch and a Beach Walk on Anna Maria Island
After the drama of doors and discount divas, we returned to the condo for a well-earned lunch. Nothing fancy – a sub roll with ham, which was just the ticket. Light, simple, and perfect fuel for a saunter down to the beach.
Anna Maria Island: You Beauty
The beach is a mere five-minute wander from the condo, and honestly, it felt like walking into a postcard. The sand? Flat, white, and softer than most luxury pillows. The water? A shimmering turquoise slice of the Gulf of Mexico. Or should that be the Gulf of America? Either way, it was idyllic.
The afternoon melted away in a delightful blur of:
- Swimming in the warm waves (with only minimal splashing and screeching)
- Wandering along the shoreline with the elegance of David Attenborough on a nature walk
- Reading a book while occasionally pretending not to fall asleep
- Soaking up the sun like seasoned sun-worshippers
Back to Base and Pizza Dreams
Eventually, the sun began to dip, and we reluctantly returned to the condo. A cool shower rinsed off the sand and salt (and hopefully the evidence of that odd crab dance I did in the shallows). Then it was time for a cold beer and the international holiday staple: pizza.
There’s something unbeatable about a low-effort meal after a high-effort beach day. We didn’t even argue about toppings. It was, in short, perfection.
Evening Musings and World Domination (Sort Of)
The evening was one of those gentle, golden ones where everyone just seems to sink into their seats and get philosophical. We chatted about everything and nothing – fixing the world one opinion at a time, all from the comfort of our Airbnb balcony. It’s amazing what a bit of sun and beer can do for global diplomacy.
There was laughter, a few dramatic retellings of the door handle saga, and even some loose planning for tomorrow (which will, no doubt, go out the window the moment we spot a good café or beach bar).
A Day of Simple Pleasures
While it wasn’t the most action-packed of days, day six was exactly what we needed. A bit of relaxation, a touch of absurdity, a dash of suncream, and just the right amount of supermarket silliness.
The thing about travel – especially with people you like – is that even the mundane becomes memorable. A jammed door becomes a story. A slow checkout line becomes comedy gold. And a beach walk becomes one of the best bits of the trip.
Bring on day seven – though hopefully, with all doors functioning correctly.
