Travelling with my parents

I haven’t travelled with my parents on a trip since I was child. I’ve never been on an airplane with my dad. It was very nice to travel with them as an adult. I’m very glad we did that. I only had a little meltdown on the last day when I had had enough of all the tourists and the being herded around like cattle. And my parents were good about giving me space and letting my have a nap to sleep it off and being very, very quiet. After that we had a great time at a cool Alaskan restaurant in Fairbanks with a very fun waiter in a quiet restaurant with no tourists! Or at least very few.

My mother was very cute. She loved Alaska. She took in everything that she possibly could. In the mornings she would get up and walk around the promenade deck several times as her morning exercise. She loved the glaciers and the water and the ice and the whales and otters we could see far away from the boat. Sometimes she would sit up tall and straight when on the bus and look at all she possibly could out the window. When we were on the train, she shouted out with glee when she sighted a Dall sheep on the mountainside. My dad shouted out with glee when he saw mushrooms in the East Prussian looking Birch forest. My poor dad ended up getting an infection in his foot after having overdone it with walking in Juneau and working out at the gym on the ship. We ended up taking him to the ship’s doctor who pumped him full of antibiotics which worked beautifully. So he ended up making himself comfortable in our little room with his foot up watching all he possibly could about Alaska on TV while my mother and I went out exploring and adventuring. Somehow it all worked out despite the misfortune.