We've just returned from our vacation in Avon, North Carolina. I've been going to North Carolina's Outer Banks for decades (my first trip was at the age of 13 and I'm 49 now, and it is an annual event). This year, instead of our usual rental house on the sound side, we went all out and stayed oceanfront.
It was a wonderful vacation. I missed last year's vacation and had considered skipping it again this year just to give us a chance to get our finances in order, but we had put ourselves on a strict budget and have been saving (even more than we were saving back when I was making $20,000 more a year) and we felt we deserved a vacation.
The house was incredible - a short walk to the beach from the back door, a private swimming pool, and the best fishing I've seen in more than a decade (I made one cast and caught a flounder).
Then the Ground Shook
We were resting after a day at the beach. Some were out shopping, some napping in their rooms, and I was on the couch chatting with my sister and brother in law. Then I noticed the couch I was sitting on -- it was shaking back and forth. I thought maybe one of my nephews was awake, maybe shaking the couch from behind, but when I looked behind me, no one was there. My sister and I then thought aloud that maybe the washer was in the midst of an out-of-balance spin cycle.
The shaking went on for almost a minute, but the intensity had dropped. I wondered aloud, jokingly, if it were an earthquake (then dismissed the idea). I went down the stairs to our room to check on my room mate, who confirmed that he felt an earthquake, and when we turned on the television, we watched the news break on MSNBC.
Then the Heavens Rent Asunder
We knew there was a hurricane that was working its way up the eastern seaboard, but we had thought it would not arrive at the Outer Banks until Saturday. So four days into our week-long vacation, we decided to check on things via the internets. To our dismay, we learned that there was a mandatory evacuation for all vacationers along the Outer Banks. We ended up sleeping for a few hours and then quickly packing and some cleaning, leaving Avon at 330am Thursday morning, hoping to avoid the expected crushing traffic jams. We were back in Richmond VA by 930am.
Then We Beat a Hasty Retreat
Since our beach vacation was originally planned for a week, our flight back to Phoenix wasn't scheduled until Sunday, four days away. With Hurricane Irene making landfall in Virginia on Saturday, we didn't think a Sunday flight would be possible. So, once again, we used the internets and found a flight that would leave the same afternoon that we had returned to Richmond. Getting out of Richmond ended up being an exciting task, as a huge thunderstorm bore down on the airport as we left. Delta decided to have the flight leave 30 minutes early in order to beat the storm, and as we hurriedly boarded the plane, stewardesses and even the pilot got on the intercomm, imploring us to seat ourselves as quickly as possible. The pilot even tersely said, "There's no reason why it would take anyone moer than 90 seconds to stow your gear and strap yourselves in, so everyone please get out of the aisle so we can leave..."
There's No Place Like Home
The flight home ended up being uneventful. We landed in Atlanta and had a 90 minute layover, where we enjoyed ham sandwiches made by my mother (which really saved us, my room mate's back was killing him and I had a headache, so getting to enjoy a sandwiche without having to stand in line to pay for it was a luxury). We then took off for Phoenix, landing in Sky Harbor Airport at 1115pm. We took a taxi home, and were enjoying a reunion with our kitties before midnight.
We're hoping our next trip won't be nearly as eventful or exciting.
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