In January of 2019, I went on a business trip in January to Alabama. Being somewhat OCD about my travel being comfortable, I flew Southwest[1] to Pensacola and then took a Greyhound bus[2] to Mobile. Most of my travel is to aviation hubs in Europe. I take buses and trains there, so I thought since I would be sitting in a hotel for 5 days, renting a car was silly. If buses were fine in Germany, shouldn’t they be fine in the States too[3]?
The bus ride from Pensacola to Mobile was much different than the buses around Toulouse[4] or the tram that runs from the airport to downtown there. The biggest difference was that the bus stations in both cities was far, far away from where I needed to be making the logistics less than ideal. I have found it quite easy to not have a car when traveling in Europe. On this trip, I had to take an Uber each way to both bus stations. There was no connecting city bus. It still ended up being cheaper than renting a car, but I probably would have rented one if I had known how crazy it was going to get.
As I look back on it, that trip was almost cursed. My trip to Pensacola had to start a day earlier than planned because of a snowstorm hitting the DC area. Then, my flight back to DC got cancelled due to another snowstorm the next weekend[5]. While in the Gulf, most of the days were quite cool with little sunshine. It was a good work trip, and I had fun, but it was the most disrupted trip I had ever taken.
But then, after the flight got cancelled, I realized I was only 15 miles from Pensacola Beach. I had been there once with NumberOneNiece when she was about 8 years old, and I remember thinking it was awesome. We stayed on the beach at a Hampton Inn. We didn’t know we weren’t supposed to sit on the lounge chairs unless we paid for them.
With those fond memories in my heart, I took an Uber to Pensacola Beach and spend a lovely afternoon walking around in the weak January sunshine. Not wanting to pay ridiculous amounts of money for drinks at the hotel bar, I walked to a liquor store to get a bottle of wine. But, there was one problem. I didn’t know how to open a bottle of bubbly.
I looked at the bottle of prosecco and I looked at the sad selection of cider they had, and I made up my mind. I would figure it out. I could do it.
Enter Google. Then YouTube[6].
Voila! Yes, it was easy to open a bottle of bubbly if you used a towel. A towel! I mean, I think I have even seen servers do this when we ordered a bottle in a fancy restaurant, but the idea never clicked with me before. You put the towel loosely over the cork and gentle slide out the cork. The trick is to not put your hand over where the cork is going to come out.
As I sit on this sunny Saturday morning with a glass of prosecco[7] celebrating a quiet weekend and the advent of fall, I realized it is probably a little silly to still use a towel to open a bottle of prosecco. I am much better at it and I even understand the physics that would let me just use my hand as Husband does or the various other people I have watched to this over the past two and a half years since I learned the magic trick.
But.
I still use a towel. I am ok with that. I keep learning things and facing fears[8], and maybe it is ok to give myself grace not to be the Olympic Champion of everything. Or anything.
Being a pentagenairan[9], letting learning come to me, seeking it out, and challenging myself gently is awesome. I like that I use the towel. It reminded me of that trip when life was simpler, complicated, and I still had the courage to go see the world according to my rules.
[1] Since it was domestic. My favorite airline in the world is Icelandair.
[2] This was a mistake.
[3] Bless my heart.
[4] I particularly remember the smell.
[5] I had wanted to fly home on an earlier flight, but they were going to charge me $300 to change my flight. I am cheap so I said no way.
[6] I swear there is a YouTube video for everything. You could probably do open heart surgery if you followed the right one.
[7] Prosecco is best as a breakfast drink.
[8] I love prosecco and cava, but I had always before been scared of the cork.
[9] This should be a word. Seriously.