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I'm pleased to bring to you our first crew member submitted travelog!
Virginia P. of Miami Shores, Florida, a seasoned traveler and wonderful
friend of Christine Columbus, shares this delightfully entertaining story of
grumbling tempers, an "out-cold" traveling companion, and a tour group
nearly run amok by growling stomachs. Virginia clearly shows us the
importance of packing your sense of humor (and a few breakfast bars!) when
you set off on your next adventure.
— Annette
The Continental Breakfast
Submitted by Virginia P., Miami Shores, FloridaThe package tours of Europe offer scenic grandeur at budget prices. The brochures I received in autumn promised such thrilling travel the following spring that I could scarcely afford not to go. I wondered how the Travel Agencies could offer such bargains. Now I know. It is because of THE CONTINENTAL BREAKFAST.
To the wise stay-at-homes, I should explain that with the Continental Breakfast you are issued a useless plastic knife, fork and spoon wrapped in a paper napkin with your pot of tea or coffee and a minuscule container of jelly on the cover of which says, "Please use before 1987". Finally, two new 4- letter words which have come to strike terror in the hearts of travelers everywhere -- the hard roll.
For the first several days, partakers of the hard roll pretend it is exactly what they need or the "famine is fun" syndrome. Everyone agrees we eat much too much on these trips, therefore a light breakfast is sensible. Actually, the hard roll was not designed to take off weight. Even though eaten in small pieces, once in the body it will form again into its original hard ball form creating a build-up across the hips and abdomen. The Continental Breakfast, the literal translation "keep out of the reach of children" takes a gradual but unmistakable effort on the part of travelers to eat it for a week or more. Gracefully, that is.
Consider the situation of dear Dr. Winters, a Shakespearean scholar and professor of literature at Wilmington, a prestigious school for young lads in Vermont. At Verona, Italy, around 11:00 a.m. our mode of conveyance "Le Bus" paused two blocks from the home of Juliet Capulet. Adjacent streets were too narrow to accommodate "Le Bus" so we hoofed it over uneven cobblestones to the gateway of the charming courtyard where one could see not only the famous love scene with Romeo balcony but also a delightful statue of Miss Capulet herself with hand outstretched -- a hand worn quite smooth from kisses by numerous devoted travelers and admirers.
As Dr. Winters puckered and advanced to kiss the hand, he toppled and fell unconscious to the ground, out cold! Our curious group immediately crowded around Dr. Winters to effectively shield him from any life-supporting oxygen. Had Dr. Winters been carried away with the emotion of the moment? Could Dr. Winters be dead? He certainly looked so. Mrs. Winters was unavailable to provide a clue to Dr. Winters malady as she had remained on "Le Bus" recuperating from a sprained ankle which she had sustained while running to escape from the police in the red-light district of Amsterdam several nights before.
Maurice, our responsible tour director, phoned for an ambulance. Meantime we loosened Dr. Winters collar, put a sweater under his head and an overcoat over him to protect him from shock while entreating the crowd to disperse to give the poor man some air. With surprising speed, the ambulance corps arrived. They quickly gathered up the still inert, pale gray and unconscious Dr. Winters and whisked him off to the hospital.
Several hours later they returned Dr. Winters to us. He was smiling broadly and rosy as a mullet. That rascal had been eating! Breakfast! Ham and eggs -- and toast with jam -- all those good things!
We learned that Dr. Winters suffered from hypoglycemia and six days of the Continental Breakfast had done him in. The hard roll simply was not sufficient nourishment to sustain him until lunchtime. Furthermore, the physician who had attended Dr. Winters decreed that he should forthwith be given a full breakfast each remaining morning of the tour.
Like remoras circling a shark, we jockeyed to sit close to Dr. Winters each morning, but the few crumbs he did not eat, he dutifully passed along to Mrs. Winters so she could keep up her strength in case she had to flee from any more brothels. Several others of us diagnosed we had hypoglycemia too. A veritable epidemic of hypoglycemia erupted in the ranks -- along with claims of having caught it from Dr. Winters. We begged for respite from the Continental Breakfast and the hard roll without success. Maurice had made another phone call and he had satisfied himself that hypoglycemia was not contagious. None of the other travelers in our group were satisfied, however. I tell you, on the European mainland, the Continental Breakfast is an institution. There's just no getting away from it.
After the eleventh day, the hard roll makes you mean. We had been served our first hard roll on April 15. By April 26, the group was irritable and uncommunicative. By the end of the nineteenth day, the prospect of a hard roll caused some travelers to remain in their beds with their faces turned to the wall. Others used the hard roll to pry open their luggage, prop open their doors, or to rub stubborn stains from their shirts and collars.
Maurice found the group secretive and somewhat restless the last day of the tour. He was a bit apprehensive when we asked him to stand alone by the wall and he laughed rather nervously as he declined the blindfold we offered him. The strong and well fed Dr. Winters issued the commands: "Read-eee, Aaaiimmm- -FIRE!!!" With that a veritable barrage of hard rolls were hurled toward Maurice amidst much laughing and shouting. Maurice was a good sport. He enjoyed the joke too -- especially after he noticed each of us had hollowed out the hard roll and thoughtfully enclosed therein a generous tip for him.###
Specials!
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