Sup Yo Dude!

There's a certain type of dreaming that occurs, at least for me, on a red eye flight.  And, of course, I'm not referring to the high quality R.E.M., blissful dreaming of the truly comfortable.  No, it's more the "day"dreams of a restless, groggy economy class traveller with a child sleeping on her (and in this case, not even her own child) with visions of a business-class Air Canada pod bed dancing in her head.

I don't think I'll ever love flying and we are lucky to be able to fly at all as a family and visit interesting places and wonderful people, but flying first class has got to make the red-eye less painful.

Less than pleasant travel moments are also conducive to imaginings of booking places to stay without a thought to a budget:  desirable locations, super comfy beds and pillows, a little extra room for nine pieces of luggage, a yacht with two helicopter pads for Lily...you get the idea.  But then, if you really could travel like Beyonce, your children would never be inspired by the Olympics to invent the "Medals for the Dodgiest Accommodation" game.

I thought I would share stories from the Silver and Gold winners, as awarded by the judges Grace and Lily.  Up first, the silver medal that went to a north end Halifax, Canada apartment.

This apartment could have very well pulled out a gold medal finish if it was judged solely on our arrival night.  We had been so looking forward to spending four nights with a whole apartment to ourselves and our baggage, and I think that anticipation made our first impressions all the more disappointing.  We were clearly not in the best part of town, and arriving after dark likely amplified our misgivings.  There was garbage and a random pair of high heels littering the lawn, and some tags on the side of the house, as you can see from these photos taken the next morning.

 
Our Halifax friends later told us that they had been a bit surprised with the area we had chosen to stay in, but had figured we had just wanted to experience the "real Halifax".

From the moment we pulled up, Lily was imploring us to take money out of her bank account and take her to a hotel room.  On entering the apartment, I was simultaneously trying to calm the girls down and trying to handle my own qualms about the dirty bathtub and stained pull-out couch the girls were to sleep on.  I also quickly closed the door to the "junk" room.

Thank goodness for the great distraction of Olympic swimming!  The girls had just settled down with the T.V. and I was enjoying some quiet, alone time out in the kitchen (a rarity with hotel living), when there was a very close and very loud bang.  I was startled and let out a scream, which started the girls screaming.  All three came rushing to join me in the kitchen.  Both girls were convinced it was a gunshot.   Barry tried to reassure all of us that it was just a car backfiring.  I agreed because I had no other explanation that wouldn't further terrify the girls, but kept giving him the hairy eyeball when the girls weren't looking that said "That was so not a car backfiring!".

By this time it was close to eleven p.m. and we found ourselves trying to now convince both girls (and a bit myself!), that we were safe in the apartment and that we wouldn't be leaving to get a hotel room  We had had some recent heart felt conversations about keeping as safe as possible while travelling, and it was difficult to see them so scared.

Then things got weirder.  I noticed a pool of dark maroon liquid that appeared to be coming from the fridge.  Lily had been keeping a very close eye on me, and when her eyes saw what I was looking at, she became hysterical.  In her mind, there was only one possible link between the bang and the liquid and it was a scary one.

I was about to capitulate.  I felt not even Penny Oleksiak could help us now.  I was about to leave Barry in his "reasonably priced" apartment and get us three to a hotel room.

Barry had two girls wrapped around him and so, before making any final decisions, I ventured forth to take a closer look.

Ahha!  The dark liquid was not coming from the fridge, but from a high cupboard to the left of it.  I opened it and discovered....

a bottle of blueberry juice had exploded.

Well, that explained everything!

Both girls needed a parent with them before falling asleep, but sleep they did.  And, the apartment and area, well, it seemed a whole lot safer to them in daylight.  In fact, some of the writing on the wall has become a go-to family tag line.

   
The rest of our Halifax time was nothing but fun and rewarding!

With the mystery of the "exploding blueberry juice" solved, we could enjoy ourselves on Halifax's Citadel Hill.