Tell us about the farthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
It was 1993 and I had just married my husband. We were going on our honeymoon to St. Maarten. There was only one other time that I had been in an airplane and that was to Las Vegas. Definitely not for the fun and games of Vegas as everyone might expect as I was a minor, but as this was my second time in an airplane and I would be going over a vast amount of water I was quite nervous. I grabbed my husband’s arm and yammered the entire time to him while looking out the window. I believe I was a complete annoyance.
When we stepped off the plane at the little airport, it was muggy and hot but quaint. It was still a time where they accepted a birth certificate as a form of passage back into the U.S. and that was all I had having never travelled outside our country. The people were friendly, the scenery was fantastic, and since we had a small car we travelled to both sides of the island (Dutch/French). I remember we stopped along the road at this little restaurant on the French side of the island and all they spoke was French. we did not know French, but were able to purchase some wine, cheese and bread. I don’t remember how but the view from this little place was breathtaking and loved every minute of our language barrier lunch. I don’t think the waiter did though. All in all, we had a lovely time.
Since then, my nerves have settled down when flying. I might still grab hold of the seat arm as we land or grab my husband or sons arm, but that is just something I think I will always do. We have flown quite regularly, so everyone knows what to expect.
The small airport with a welcome sign as we arrive. I love this now and loved it then.
A small shopping area for tourist and locals. The pictures are old, so forgive me.
In response to the Daily Prompt: Far From Home