(Photo from http://www.chateauelan.com/)We aren't going to this vineyard, but isn't this beautiful?
I'm not a big fan of road trips. I liked the movie of the same name, but I can't say that I enjoy sitting in a car for hours on end. Perhaps it was the overabundance of car trips I suffered through as a child, but I'd rather fly if given a choice. I'm fairly certain that I still have phantom pains in my back from being kicked repeatedly on the way to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina in 1995 by my brother.
My husband, however, is a major fan of road trips. You could even say he's in love with them. Wants to marry them. He loves driving in a car so very much that a few years ago he drove all the way to Colorado and back for fun. FOR FUN! Well, and for baseball games, but you get my point. Keep in mind that he started this little trip in Ohio--that's a whole lotta driving, my friends.
So, because I love him so much I finally submitted to his incessant requests to go road trippin' together. It probably helps that I get to depart on said journey behind the wheel of my new car, complete with XM Satellite Radio and the ability to listen to my iPod through my car's speakers. I haven't broken the news to him yet, but the first 2 hours of the trip will be all Lady Gaga, all the time. Anyone who complains will listen to "Poker Face" on repeat ten times as a penance.
We have a week of relaxation, spa treatments, wineries, B&B's, breweries, baseball games and relaxtion planned. Seems worth all that driving, no?
Also, per request, we will be making frequent stops for bathroom breaks and assorted fun. Not for snacks though, because I totally have that area covered. Covered in peanut butter-filled pretzel nuggets, almonds, trail mix and animal crackers, that is.
But not these animal cookies, which I am totally obsessed with. No, I bought the crappy ones because I know myself and myself would have already eaten the entire bag if I had bought the Keebler pink icing variety to snack on. Those are an entire meal, not a snack. If it were socially acceptable (and provided even a shred of daily nutrition) I would eat them for dinner every night.
So, we're hitting the road in my new ride and seeing where the asphalt takes us. Actually, that's a lie: We know where it's taking us because my husband has created a detailed itinerary complete with bullet points to guide us. Isn't it fun when your OCD/Type A tendencies rub off on others? Personally, it causes me to squeal with delight.
The best part of every trip is being guided by the GPS, of course. We don't have a Garmin, but I kinda feel this way about my Tom Tom GPS, too. Except when it's instructing me to drive through a field of cows. That's not exactly helpful.