While we were in Guatemala City we decided at the last minute to go visit my mom. As far as travel goes, Guatemala City is no Mexico. Flights are tough unless you happen to live in Houston, and once you are in Guatemala City it is about a 7-hour drive out to Rio Dulce. So, we knew there was no way my mom was going to be able to visit us, and with our plans for the coming season constantly in flux, we thought we’d better all get together while we could.

We hadn’t been planning the trip, but we had our passports with us, and that’s all we really need. We booked a last minute flight, dropped our bag off at a hotel (no need to bring a bag of dirty clothes with us), and boarded the plane with nothing but a backpack full of computers and cameras. I often wonder how we would explain ourselves if we were stopped by security and questioned. Family of four, been in Guatemala for months, leaving the country with nothing but the pretty raggedy looking clothes on their backs—totally normal.

Because it was so last minute we decided to make it a surprise for the kids. When we had first gotten to Guatemala City we had told them we would go to Wal-Mart after a couple days. Inexplicably, our kids were excited to go to Wal-Mart because there are frozen pancakes and frozen blueberries there. Yeah, that’s the sort of thing that they get excited about.

So throughout the week we kept putting the trip to the store off, eventually telling them we were just going to stop there on the way back to the boat. So the morning of the trip our flight was at 7 o’clock. We told the kids we were taking a shuttle back to the boat. Yay! Nobody wanted to take the bus. We were up at 4:45 in the morning, and so far nobody is questioning why. We get in an Uber on the deserted street. Still no questions. The car takes us to a hotel where I get out and drop off a duffel bag with the bell boy. The questions begin. Ali tells the kids we don’t want to drag our bag around Wal-Mart. It’s still very early, so they buy that explanation. We then proceed to the airport. As we’re pulling up they ask why we’re stopping at the airport. Ali tells them we get out here and then walk the rest of the way to the Wal-Mart. Puzzled looks, but they somehow still go right along with it. Man, are they trusting kids.

We get out of the car, on the sidewalk in front of the Departures gate at 5:30 in the morning, the kids bleary eyed and thinking we’re about to go walking through the dark streets to Wal-Mart to buy frozen blueberries. Ali finally tells them, “You guys, we don’t really like Wal-Mart, so we decided to go to Target instead. But we have to fly there. And it’s right down the road from Grammy’s new house, so…”

My mom moved to Arizona a few months back. Ali and the kids hadn’t been here yet, so everyone was pretty excited.

Bridget never leaves the kids when we are here. A complete traitor to the lady who cares for her 99.9% of the time.

It was a super busy few days’ visit. I later realized this was the only picture we took of Grammy. She looks great, though. Arizona life seems to suit her. As much as we are all going to miss our regular visits to Portland, at least one person isn’t going to miss the long dreary Portland winters.

My days were filled with hanging light fixtures and ceiling fans, building garage storage cabinets, and adjusting doors. Full-time handyman with a part-time apprentice.

Lowe was stoked to have his bike back for a while. Looking at these pics now I realize I kept meaning to move the seat up higher but never did. He’s growing.

Quite a bit of shopping was done on this trip. The only things Ouest had been wanting were new sunglasses and books. Easy enough. We also took the opportunity to get new dive masks (every single pair we had broke last season), two more solar panels, some miscellaneous small boat bits, and piles of clothes.

The Porsche fired right up, as always, and I took her out for a spin around the neighborhood. That’s when this happened. It’s painful for me to even look at. The tires were definitely due for a refresh, but I hadn’t even noticed how badly this one had worn. I changed the tire in my bare feet on the Arizona pavement (a sort of penance, I suppose), limped back to the garage, and promised not to drive her again without new rubber.

Despite spending most of their lives in countries south of the border, my kids still ask me to convert local currencies to US dollars for them in order to put the price in perspective when they are debating a purchase. So it was kind of funny when we were in the Dallas airport snack shop and Lowe held something up asking, “Papa, how much is $2.99?”

“$2.99 is $2.99,” I said

“No, I mean, how much is it?”

“Lowe, we’re in the U.S. now, so $2.99 is $2.99.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s too much.”

We left Grammy’s at five in the morning, finally landed in Guatemala City around seven at night, checked into a hotel and retrieved our dirty laundry bag. The next morning the shuttle back to the boat arrived and we got to the boat around two in the afternoon, thirty-three hours of travel.

The first thing I saw was this beauty.