THE HONEYMOON, PART I

         We drive away from my aunt’s home and head for the freeway. I’m so tired, I would have been happy to go back to our apartment for the night, but John had the bit between his teeth. Besides all the rice and shaving cream or whatever they put on our car, we should have had a sign, “PORTLAND OR BUST.”

          It seemed to take forever to get to Portland, but finally, John pulled off and registered us for the first time as man and wife at some hotel just off the freeway. At the room, he opened the door, picked me up and carried me across the threshold. He didn’t set me down until he was in front of the phone.

          “Call your aunt, right now!!!”

          Thankfully, there was information back then because I didn’t have a phone number. I got the number and asked the operator to make the call for me. It took a number of rings before someone answered and I asked for my aunt.

          “We’re here in Portland.”

          “How do I know you’re in Portland?” she responded sleepily.

          “Wait until you get the bill. I called collect. Good night.” and I hung up.

          Then it was into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I came out in my brand new sexy nighty. John was already in bed and almost asleep, but we did the “deed,” and I have to say it was probably not the best time we ever had together. Still, you can’t just go to sleep on your wedding night…right?

          The next morning, we had breakfast and headed down I-5. We had talked about where we wanted to go for our honeymoon. We both loved the idea of Hongkong, but that was way more expensive than we could afford. John decided on Mexico and we got the visas we needed to enter the country.

          Since John drove truck for a living, he did the driving. I talked to him, looked out the window and read my book. When we got to Tijuana, he found the airport and went inside. I stayed in the car until he came back and said, “Come on, let’s go. The plane leaves in an hour.”

          Well, something else that’s changed for the better is how you can dress these days. I was in shorts and a shirt. You didn’t go anywhere in public like that. I had to go into the restroom, get into my suitcase and change. Before I knew it, we were on board the plane headed for Mexico City. I do have to say I still remember the meal we were served on the plane…the best plane food I’ve ever had.

          In Mexico City, John found a cab only to learn the driver didn’t speak any English. I sat in the back seat almost in tears, imagining us in some park surrounded by our luggage. Instead, our cab driver found another one who did speak English and he translated for us. As a result we were taken to this huge, old hotel in downtown. There was a park across the street and the room keys were metal and huge. John really wanted to keep that key, but it simply wasn’t possible.

          The next morning while I got ready, John went and talked to the concierge. This gentleman took us down the street and helped us rent a convertible. He also made plane reservations to and from Acapulco and back to Tijuana. We followed him down the street and for a short guy, he was fast. By the time we got to the car rental place I could barely breath. I’d forgotten how high Mexico City was.

          We drove all around the city and look at the sights. We saw the new housing that was built for people who lived there. The Olympics were coming in a couple of years. The new housing was long rows of concrete blocks with a door in the center and a window on either side. Each family got to paint their blocks whatever color they’d like.

          When it was time to head to the airport, we could see and hear it, but we couldn’t find the road that would let us in. Fortunately, we came to a stop light and John talked to the people in the adjacent car. They explained what he needed to do to get into the airport.

          I don’t remember much about that flight. I do remember stepping out of the plane and my first experience with really high humidity. It was like walking into a wall and I could barely breath. No problems like those in Mexico City. John got us a cab and we were taken to this lovely hotel. It was a series of cottages or cabanas, each with its own entrance. And, as in Mexico City, it had twin beds. I still laugh about that. It didn’t really matter to us because we were both a lot smaller than we eventually became, so a twin bed for two wasn’t a problem…at least until later in the honeymoon when we used both of them.

          Are you getting the idea that John was ever so much more adventurous in his youth. I’m sure some of our friends and family who knew him in his later life wouldn’t have recognized him. Anyway, our honeymoon adventure had just begun. I’ve lots more memories to share as this week progresses. It was a wonderfully happy time and looking back at it makes me smile a lot…just wish I’d had a digital camera back then.