Wednesday: We left for Mackinac Island. It never rains when when we travel by car, but that day, it rained all the way. ALL the way. I drove the first 60 miles or so, then Duane took over. (This is always a happy thing for him—he hates my driving. I’m not thrilled with his, either, but I am polite—that is to say silent—about it.) He immediately made two wrong turns, quickly corrected but good for a laugh.
Hey, he said, do we have our passports? Oh, crap, I said, no we don’t. We’d thought maybe we’d go to Canada. Guess not.
On the way, we stopped at McDonald’s and had coffee. An hour later, we pulled into a motel for the night.
I didn’t have my purse. With all my credit cards and what little cash I carry.
Really? My purse? I left my purse in a strange McDonald’s in a state I didn’t grow up in where it had been so busy we’d nearly had to wait to find a seat? But we hadn’t, and I’d hooked my Vera Bradley over the back of the chair. And left it.
We turned around and headed back. What was the name of the town where we were? Neither of us could remember. And then I did and called. They had found the purse and put it in the safe. It would be there when I got there. I nearly cried with the relief of it. I left them a book, a business card, and 20 bucks—it was a small price to pay. I am so grateful to the employees of the Lake City, Michigan McDonald’s.
It was still raining. We checked into a hotel. Duane started to get out of the car, grabbed the
That was the first day.
We just got home Sunday morning, having cut our trip short by a day. It continued to be a strange kind of vacation, with more missed turns, more things forgotten, more “gee, we should haves” than usual.
But the food was good—I ate a bowl of glumpke soup at Cunningham’s Family Restaurant in Mackinaw City and thought I’d died and gone to heaven. In one hotel, I woke at 4:00 (their time, which was wrong—it was really 5:00), went to the dining area off the lobby, and had had a wonderful day of writing in the three hours before anyone else showed up. I got a dishy new sweatshirt. I was with my favorite person in all the world—even though we did have to buy him new shirts and a jacket. And we laughed long, hard, and often.
Like I said, the roommate and I are pretty good travelers.