This week I had the pleasure of visiting the most shocking vacation spot I have seen in ages, San Juan, Puerto Rico. Itâ€™s shocking in a good way. Why donâ€™t more people know about this fantastic island? I am not sure, but as a West Coast native, I never even hear about folks traveling to San Juan. While I plan to offer more on this gem in future writings and video, my story starts 37,000 ft. in the air, an hour outside of Los Angeles — when the bad lima beans hit.
They tasted only curiously bad when I was eating them at home watching bad reality television, but something went into overdrive in seat number 27D. I visited the teeny, tiny airplane bathroom 300 times (perhaps I exaggerate, but it was a lot), doubled over in heaving agony. At one point I thought my brain would explode out of my skull. Fortunately, it didn’t.
I know what you are thinking, This is In The Know Traveler, not In The Know Puke Man! Youâ€™re right, so letâ€™s get to the travel section of my thought. My mistake is not lima beans. Ill-prepared lima beans and other “curious” food happens to everyone once in a while. My mistake was checking my bags for my flight.
I never recommend checking bags, if at all possible. If something goes wrong it can make an otherwise wonderful trip crummy. Normally, I never check my bags. My bag is carry-on sized. Why did I do it this time? I was just being lazy.
In this case, I was sick as a dog in Boston waiting for a connecting flight to San Juan. If I was ill enough to decide not to travel, I would have been stuck in Boston with nothing but the clothes on my back: a T-shirt, cargo shorts, sunglasses and flip-flops â€“ it was 30 degrees outside. Even still, I would have had the option to dress warmer or ball-up a jacket to lay on to get more comfortable. I recognize most baggage handlers do a professional job, but mistakes happen. However, this one was all on me.
So, is there a remedy for the 37,000 feet, tiny toilet blues? No, I crawled to a Logan Airport news stand and purchased the pink stuff, ibuprophen, water, got on the plane and threw up all the way to San Juan. However, even checked baggage could ruin this trip. I felt much better after resting for a few hours in my cozy Marriott bed and meandering the street of Old San Juan later in the day.