Our New Year holidays are traditionally characterized by long preliminary troubles on the topic of winter holidays – starting from the summer months, my husband and I systematically carry out discussions about upcoming trips in everyday and non-domestic conversations. Where would we rush this time? .. This year was no exception to the usual rhythm, so by the beginning of winter we had time to dream about future trips more than once. The “American” direction was previously selected by us as a priority. Of course, we weren’t going to go on vacation exclusively to visit Mr. Obbama — I wanted to see other interesting places with the indispensable attributes of a real vacation for the northerners – hot sun, warm sea … A weighty argument in our pre-holiday throwings was my school friend’s summer visit to us, now living in the gangster city of Chicago and contributing scientific and labor contribution to the economy of an ideologically alien state. However, its unpatriotic nature in no way affects our warm friendly relations, therefore, taking into account comprehensive discussions, the following plan for the winter campaign was outlined: we had to fly to Chicago from Moscow (fortunately, a direct flight to this city was recently opened), stay with a friend days, spend them getting to know the city and its environs, then in a rental car drive to the southern states, for example, Miami (we put about 2 days to get to know the “one-story” America), and then plunge onto the cruise ship and over the next 2 weeks in a leisurely voyage across the Caribbean Sea visit as many exotic islands as possible, and fly from some Florida back to Moscow.
In this place I will interrupt for giving … no, not false testimonies, but quite true explanations. The vile features of my vestibular apparatus have long established a number of limitations for me, which, however, do not really spoil my life. However, it begins to frankly stir me up, if, in my presence, they say, for example, the phrase “water transport”. I can only go past the wagons racing along the roller coasters of the roller coaster and screeching in human voices with a bit of ammonia and treacherous stomach contractions. Without dubious merry-go-round pleasures, I live beautifully, and the inability to ride a river bus does not upset me either – not in Venice, tea, we live … However, for some time now my husband began occasionally about and without it to colorfully paint charms and even purely practical advantages of this kind rest like a cruise, in several of which he visited in the recent past (though without me … though). For reference – a cruise, from the English. cruise, this is a sea voyage usually on a closed route with a visit to a number of port cities. Everything in this definition suits me — a trip, a route, and a number of ports … The word “sea” upsets … Therefore, the husband’s enthusiasm drove me down, and I once again for a long time and patiently explained to my half the reasons for my skepticism: I’m happy to be ready for any journey, but with what arguments to convince my capricious body of the complete absence of reasons for it to ugly behavior. There is clearly no way to persuade here … Like any normal inquisitor, of course, I really wanted to look at different places that seemed incredibly distant and magical, especially from snowy Moscow, but no foreign beauty and miracles could brighten up the terrible prospect of feeling in a piquant position in the early stages with brutal toxicosis, ruthlessly tormenting the insides. And instead of a soothing rest and emotionally joyful spectacles, it will turn out only friendly hugs with a toilet (or, as this friend is called on a ship, with a latrine). And the most catastrophic in this situation is that, firstly, it is impossible to accurately predict the reactions of the body (maybe it will be, or maybe not), and secondly, it is completely tired of bodily torment, in the hearts of a panama to land on the ground, non-literary in words, to send far away the climatic pleasures and happiness of the discoverer and to proudly leave the torture chamber does not work. After all, the ill-fated cruise begins not from the Northern River Station of the capital and not even from the Vasyuki station in the Samara province, but from some distant, distant point where you still need to fly. Of course, theoretically you can really drop everything and strangle the toad of stinginess – I would like to look at such a hero. In short, while I was rushing between desires and fear, my husband, like a biblical snake tempter, persistently returned to the cruise topic, convincing that modern liners with the help of a whole system of stabilizers successfully solve the problems of the most finicky vestibular apparatuses. In the end, desires prevailed, and we began to boldly prepare for swimming.