On a recent business trip to Las Vegas, I decided to partake in the hotel's happy hour that they provide to their guests Monday-Friday. Trying to be obscure, I drank my free beer and ate my free tortilla chips with salsa while standing at a bar top table in the corner, alone, until, that is, a flight crew joined me at the table. We started chatting and (since I had just read the article I share above) I had asked them if any of them explored the cities where they travel to for business. They all laughed and said, "no - not really". Me too, I admitted - thinking back to an earlier blog post about how I was going to make the most of my time in each city I traveled to. This was my first time at the hotel's happy hour event, so I guess that counts as doing something different and new!
Anyway, the pilot admitted that his wife always tries to encourage him to do something new and fun while he's away. On this trip, he decided to walk down the Las Vegas Strip. He happened upon the Bellagio hotel right when the water fountains started their impressive show. He stopped to watch the 10 minute show, took a picture of it on his iPhone, then emailed it to his wife. When it stopped, he thought to himself, "that's cool" and headed right back to the hotel. He laughed at the fact that he was only gone for about 25 minutes, but his wife congratulated him on "getting out" while in Las Vegas.
What perks me up while on the road is knowing that I'll get a solid 8 hours of sleep, I can watch whatever I want on the TV, that I can actually take the time to groom my eyebrows in the large magnifying mirror in the bathroom instead of the rear view mirror of my car between appointments, and, finally, the venti latte and Big Dipper Donut from Starbucks that I can expense as "Breakfast". It's the little things...
Great post, Mary!
ReplyDeleteMy most recent project had our team traveling regularily to LaCrosse, MN by car - a 3 1/2 hour drive. Our ritual starting by meeting at a park and ride in the wee hours (5am) and taking the scenic drive along the Missippi river. By 6:30, we'd be in Red Wing, MN and stop at the Caribou Coffee that occupies an old railroad depot for their yummy 7 grain oatmeal and a medium latte (expensed as breakfast). By then the sun would be rising and the scenery came to life: the bluffs on the west and eagles soaring over the river to the east. It put everyone in a good mood prior to the all day meetings in a dimly lit conference room with dark green carpet and mauve walls!
Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep--SLAM. Grr.
ReplyDeleteIt's 0400. I'm out on the first flight out today, as usual. Not because I’m a morning person, but because the first flight means empty trains, shorter lines, and a full day of work on the other end. But it boards in 90 minutes. Good thing my bag's already packed and by the door. Quick morning ablutions, grab the travel clothes I’ve already laid out, and I'm gone.
On the El, Chicago's brilliant public train. One goes straight to O’Hare, another straight to Midway. Both run within blocks of my place. Can't imagine going any other way, but strangely this is the only time I ride it. I'm being automatically admonished that "smoking, gambling, and solicitation are not permitted on this train”-- like they know me or something. Still can't help but think how much more fun this would be if they were.
In the terminal, I swipe my credit card into the magic e-ticket box and Yes, I'd like to change my seat. And Hell Yes I'd like to pay a few bucks extra to board early. Daddy don't do cattle calls.
Up to the security line to start the disrobing / de-metal-ing process. While shuffling along in line. Everything goes into the pockets of my bag -- wallet, watch, belt, money, phone -- so I'm now standing at the TSA podium with my ID out, nothing in my pockets, and my pants falling down. I feel like I'm in line at a soup kitchen. But I breeze through the rest of the process, as usual. (I've mastered the Shoe-Replacement Hop.)
Next? The Book. Have to find The Book. Straight into the first obscenely-overpriced newsstand to find what I'm reading on this trip. Absolutely anything that looks right for my mood. It’s ranged from “American on Purpose” to “Zag” to “I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell”. I pay my $97 for a book and a pack of gum and I’m off to the gate.
Ahhh, The Gate. No matter where I travel, no matter the airport, airline, time, or concourse, I’m always at Gate Z99. It’s the one located just on the far side of Hackensack. I pass two McDonald’s, three Starbucks, and ten obscenely-overpriced newsstands. Which begs the question Why am I lugging this bloody book around? I schlep onward and wonder why I didn’t just frickin’ walk to New York today... (continued)
...Settled into my seat now -- as far forward as possible and at the window. Light on, a little air, headphones for solitude, and The Book. The Do Not Disturb sign is now hung. I don't pay attention to the flight attendants - because in the event of a water landing, the a floatation device will be the least of my worries - except of course when it comes time for apple juice. Yes, I’d like the can please.
ReplyDelete...Hotels are hotels. I work the entire day before I check in, so it’s late and I’m invariably tired and hungry. Once, after a particularly gruelling day in Minneapolis, I was welcomed by a stunningly beautiful clerk at the Chambers with a warm How was your day? “Rough.” I said, “I could use a cold beer and a hot shower. Which would you like to join me for?” (Turns out, the beer, a little later on.)
I never really unpack; I’m never around long enough. A quick drink at the hotel bar to get my bearings, then straight out to see the city. Doesn’t even matter what city I’m in -- every city has great food, solid drinking venues, and decent people. I never really do any touristy-stuff, but I do take cell-phone snaps of cool stuff I see. And I always find the local scene.
At home I eat to simply carry on with my day. On the road I eat to really enjoy food. Nothing to do with the per-diem, mind you, I’ve pretty much blown that on the first drink at the hotel bar. To me “eating like the locals do” is one of the best parts of being on the road. So good in fact that I usually parlay that into DrinkingLikeTheLocalsDo, DancingLikeTheLocalsDo, MeetingCuteGirlsLikeTheLocalsDo, etc. I’m such a wallflower.
Then it’s back to the room to stow my Red Bull on ice for the morning, set the ol' beep-beep for whenever breakfast starts, and pick up where I left off in The Book. And fall asleep with the light on.
Brilliant! Thank you for taking us along for the ride on your recent business travels, Esteban. Your life is a reality show I would watch. :-)
ReplyDeleteKaren - I've been to that charming Caribou in Red Wing. That morning drive sounds beautiful. Thanks for sharing!
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