As some of you know, I haven’t been able to travel for two years because of this pesky little thing called cancer that’s been sucking up way too much of my time.
I know, you haven’t been able to travel because of COVID-19, but I can’t really worry about that. Because I already have one potentially fatal illness, and I just don’t have enough space in my brain to worry about another one at the same time.
This has been strangely calming, because while everyone is obsessed with wiping down the paper bags that their groceries arrived in, and keeping track of the ICU capacity in their towns, I’ve been just relaxing and enjoying my giant new TV that’s so big you can see it from space. Luckily, everyone in my life has been healthy, so the only effect COVID-19 has had on us, other than being forced to interact more, is the inability to travel anywhere.
Since I’m a travel junkie, this has been harsh. I’ve spent many an afternoon, too sick from chemo to do anything else on my smart phone, making plans for trips to places I can’t go. However, one side effect of the pandemic is that airfares have fallen to ridiculously low levels —something that spikes my blood pressure and tends to have the same effect on me that the scent of an escaped prisoner has on bloodhounds on the trail. Arf. Or I guess bloodhounds bay, don’t they? Well, you get the idea.
I keep track of airfares to places I want to go by setting up email alerts on sites like Kayak.com, and there have been so many this year that I find myself hyperventilating on a daily basis. Even though I’m still quite gimpy, I’ve decided to get out there and start going about my life, which includes traveling every chance I get.
Yes, I can’t do everything I used to do. But even if I just sit at a cafe and watch people, it’s a lot more interesting than sitting in my recliner and watching Netflix. (Sorry, Netflix. I do like you.)
Last May, when everyone was in maximum nuclear meltdown mode, I got an offer from Volaris Airlines to fly roundtrip, nonstop to Guatemala for $93 from LAX. This is a small fraction of the usual price. I called up my friends and said, “Are you willing to gamble $93 that I will be well enough to go to Guatemala next March?” And several of them said, “Hell yes.” So, we’re all starting to get ready for our trip at the end of the month. Fortunately, we’ll all be vaccinated before we go. At this writing, Guatemala requires a negative COVID-19 test before entry, unless you can prove you were vaccinated.
Now, the last time I mentioned this trip in my column, I got an infuriated two-page email from a retired nurse asking how dare I go to another country and subject them to my possible germs. Well, I understand her point, but I don’t care. Tourism is the No. 1 industry in Guatemala and they’re suffering like crazy because no one’s visiting. Times are hard there, as they are many places. We’re going to spread our American money around, and not a single Guatemalan I’ve interacted with seems unhappy with that concept. I have no intention of infecting anyone. I’ll be wearing a mask, but my wallet will be wide open.
Now, for those of you wondering how the heck I’m getting around Guatemala as a card-carrying cancer gimp, here’s the answer: Ground floor hotels. And realistic expectations. Can I hike around Tikal — the famous Mayan ruins that are on many travelers’ must-do lists? No, I cannot. So guess what? I’m not going there.
Can I stay in one of the gorgeous hotels perched on the side of a volcano at the impossibly picturesque Lake Atitlan? No, I cannot. Because I can’t climb the stairs. We’ll be staying in the flat town instead, at a pleasant hotel with a garden, outdoor massage gazebo and natural hot springs.
While the rest of my party is off hiking, kayaking and hang gliding, I’ll be back at the hotel getting a massage, pedicure and soaking in the hot tub. It will be pure unadulterated misery. Did I mention they also sell beer?
When I went to Alaska in 2019, I was so gobsmacked from my chemo that I spent most of my time sitting looking out the hotel’s picture window at a glacier, although there was some eating of amazingly fresh salmon and crab involved. The kids were running around exploring the town, and I was looking out the window, except for when they helped me onto a boat for a glacier cruise.
Was it worth it? You bet. Ditto with our trip to the Galapagos in January 2020. It was still better than sitting in my Barcalounger petting the dog. Sorry, dog. But it’s true.
Next time we get together, I’ll tell you about the other places I couldn’t resist buying cheap airfares to go.
Meanwhile, sign up for my next Happy Hour with the Frumpy Mom! It will be at 5 p.m. Friday, March 19. Sign up here: scng.com/virtualevents.
And if you missed out on the first printing of my book, note that the second printing is now out. Order it wherever you like to buy books. And thanks! As soon as my second shot kicks in, I’m going to start having book signings again. Tell me where I should have one.
