As summer officially starts warming up the northern hemisphere and school ends, the days become a little lazier. The need to wake up early dissipates slowly in the minds of many a student and the long daylight hours take its toll on those who still have to work for a living. Sometimes, it’s a bit too much looking out the window at four in the afternoon and seeing everyone going about their summer pleasures.
Now, if vacation time could only coincide with vacation plans, it would be perfect. But as Murphy’s Law kicks in, those summer plans are delayed for a month. At least it will still be summer. The only problem is that those holidays also coincide with everyone else’s holiday plans, and given the way things go, there’s no real place to stay while on the road. Just about every hotel is booked solid and based on that, the cost of rooms soars higher with the demand from vacationers.
As I carefully plan our annual summer escape it becomes clear that the major hotel chains aren’t available. So, the search goes on for the family-based motels that scatter the backroads off the main highways.
It does seem to be a lot friendlier at check-in time and I will admit that sometimes the first look can be deceiving. Some little inns off the beaten track have a distinct aura of the Bates Motel and can be a little spooky.
But as the first night passes by, I notice the background sound of birds and crickets chirping away with a few frogs chiming in. It’s more pleasant, audibly speaking, than the noise of passing traffic and trucks using Jake brakes to gear down into the slower pace of a small town. I guess that having an urban population of less than 10,000 has its benefits.
I usually travel with a sturdy GPS that’s taped to one of my vents in my vehicle. The mounts that are available have quite a few different attachments which I discard immediately and regret a few thousand kilometres later when the cell service is not available to guide you and keep the passengers happy.
It’s these times when I look in the back seats and see everyone napping away. I keep my silence as the trusty guidance system keeps pace with my totally legal speed limit.
I also prefer the GPS over a cellphone because it has the actual phone number of the establishment to call when in range. I can’t wait for the new satellite system that will work anywhere, even while drifting away on some raft without oars to propel it to land or wandering around some vast piece of land that doesn’t seem to have any connecting roads.
Back in the day, we would have to stop and use our two-kilo satellite phone and point it to the heavens just to get a signal. Often it wouldn’t work unless you were on top of some hill or mountain peak to get through. On occasion, only an answering service would be on the other end, advising you to pay another hundred bucks for an extra 10 minutes. The clock started ticking right after you dialed the number and not when someone answered. I knew a few folks who used up their data while checking to see if they had enough money to cover the expensive hookup.
Today, cellular service is just about everywhere, and the only real problem is the arguments over who is the best provider. Oh, bring me back to the days when letter writing was still good as putting off a disgruntled phone company by stating that the cheque is in the mail and won’t get there for a few weeks.
Today, it’s pay up in the next millisecond or else get disconnec…