My week long vacation to Puerto Rico has come to an end. I’m on a flight to Boston. In two weeks I should be heading back out to Central Asia. Back to work.
I couldn’t imagine a better vacation. The kids had fun on the beach, everybody got along, everybody did what they wanted to do.
We essentially just rented an apartment on the beach and let everyone go wild. There were no programs, no tours, no schedules, no obligations. One day we drove to the rain forest, and that was it for organized activities. We all just kind of hung out with each other, all doing our own respective version of nothing — I wrote, my one and a half year old ate sand, everyone else sat in a row reading their novels.
We returned to San Juan the day before our flight and the same went there. I played in the pool at the hotel with my seven year old and then just walked around the old city.
I was able to do enough work to get through the day — I don’t have the type of job where days off are realistic — and then went out and played. Although I have to admit that I relaxed as well.
It was a real vacation.