The girls were resplendent in uniform polo shirts and track suits (thanks to Gazing), each with matching backpacks and hold-alls courtesy of Ultimate Destinations, who were there in the personage of Alan, smoothing the check-in process.
Those who own a teenager or two may wonder what it was like to travel with 16 of them. You may be pleasantly surprised; certainly we were. The old saw that kids only misbehave for their parents and are lovely for everyone else proved true: throughout the journey they were excited and hardly silent, but never rude or discourteous to fellow travellers.
The first flight passed with films, from Creed and Hunger Games through Star Wars and Peanuts to Mrs Doubtfire and Home Alone (Sas showing her evident love of feel-good retro). Landing at Newark, Jacqs promised us a glorious glimpse of the Manhattan skyline, but the low cloud drifting in off the Atlantic had other ideas.
After grabbing a slice of pizza in Newark airport – a pleasantly American way to start – came the second flight. A three-hour hop down the Eastern Seaboard, with Chile vs Argentina on the in-flight telly-box and an electrical storm raging 50 miles off the port side, the cosmic lightshow a safe distance away but the plane bumping along sympathetically anyway.
Into two 15-seat travel-wagons – with Amy Coppola leading the way in a much smaller car 80% filled with bags – and up the I-75 to Saddlebrook Resort, an expansive and attractive tennis-and-golf affair and no bad base for teenage girls on tour.
There’s some mix-up over the accommodation details, and while the grown-ups sort that, the girls get whizzed round in golf carts, high-fiving each other as they pass. An overnight compromise is reached and after 20 hours’ travel, heads can hit pillows. Thanks to all who made it possible. Especially the pillows bit.
Great blog, Gary. It's almost like being there but without any of the effort. Keep them coming. See y'all Tuesday.
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