I am not a “morning person.” I especially do not like early morning commitments. I’m one of those people who lays awake worrying about whether I’ll wake up in time. That tends to shorten one’s already short night. Add an unexpected 10:30 p.m. tornado siren to a 6:05 a.m. airline departure, and one begins to wonder if there’s any point in trying to sleep.

Amazingly, I woke up when the alarm went off and was able to navigate to the shower without assistance. We were on time for the hotel’s airport shuttle and were past security and at our gate shortly after 4:30 a.m. Our departure was right on schedule, and although our connecting flight in Miami was a half hour late taking off, the pilot made up some time in the air. We landed just a few minutes later than scheduled, gathered our luggage, and headed to customs.

Two hundred and fifty people and their luggage joined us.

Most exhibited behavior suggesting that they were in class the day reading signs and forming lines were presented, and the customs people were friendly and efficient. Twenty minutes later, passports checked and exit forms stamped, we walked through the checkpoint, into another line. Ten minutes later, we were out of the airport and headed for the taxi to the hotel. By the time we drove to the hotel and checked in, another half hour passed. We arrived in our hotel room about 15-1/2 hours after our early morning wake-up call. Hubby had dives scheduled the next morning, so he dialed the dive shop number to check in. No answer. We went down to the front desk and the clerk tried to call.  No answer.  We decided to check their web site. No Internet access. Then I discovered that no receptacle in the room looked anything like the business end of any of our electrical devices. The front desk gave us a power adapter, which solved the electrical problem as long as all the devices were willing to cooperate with a now-needed recharge schedule. The desk also sent someone right away to check the Internet connection. No luck. We were tired, hungry, and fussy. Whether you’re four or forty, fussy isn’t pretty.

Hubby was the first to reflect on how good a day we’d actually had up to that point. We experienced no real delays in airport security or flights, we had no problem making our way from the airport to the hotel, and we found the hotel to be exactly as advertised. “Worst case, I call the dive shop in the morning and maybe I just miss a dive,” he said. “I’m tired and hungry; I just need some food and sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.”

Having no time to really get our bearings before dark, we decided to eat on-site. Only one restaurant was open that particular night, an outdoor open air establishment. The breeze and the sound of the ocean were relaxing. The food was delicious.

We nearly choked on the bill.

Still convinced things would look better by morning light, we headed back to our room, plugged in the first device on the recharge schedule, and went to bed.

At least there aren’t tornadoes in this country…