Thirty-Eight on 30A

30A Beach Trip: Day One — Waiting, Wandering, and Way Too Many Naps

Our trip to 30A in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida officially started on April 22, but for Pete, it started very early.

Actually, maybe too early.

Pete made it down to the beach about eight hours before Jessica, Tandi, and Rudy arrived. Which sounds peaceful in theory, eight hours at the beach, no responsibilities, just sunshine and salt air. But in reality, it turned into a full day of waiting, wandering, and trying to figure out how to pass the time without getting too bored.

First stop: grocery shopping.

There is something about doing the grocery run before everyone arrives that makes you feel both responsible and slightly abandoned. But the house needed food, snacks, drinks, and all the beach-trip essentials, so Pete knocked that out early.

Then came the bike rental situation.

We decided we wanted bikes for the trip, so Pete went and rented four of them. That part was easy enough. The difficult part was trying to actually get them back. Riding one bike while holding onto the handlebars of another bike sounds simple until you’re actually doing it and realizing that one wrong move could send you, two bikes, and your dignity straight into traffic. Somehow, by the grace of God and a questionable amount of balance, all four bikes made it back safely.

After that heroic effort, Pete did what any exhausted early-arriving beach traveler would do.

He took a nap.

Then he drove up and down the beach for a while, taking in the views, exploring the area, and trying to kill time.

Then he took another nap.

At some point, ice cream felt like the right decision,  because at the beach, ice cream is not a dessert. It is an activity. So Pete grabbed some ice cream, wandered a little more, and then, you guessed it…

Took another nap.

Eventually, after a full day of waiting, Jessica, Tandi, and Rudy finally arrived, and just like that, the trip really began.

We all met up at Red Fish Taco, and it was the perfect first stop. The food was amazing, the atmosphere was relaxed, and after a long day of traveling and waiting, it just felt good to finally be together. There is something special about that first meal on a trip, when everybody has arrived, bags are mostly unpacked, the stress of getting there starts to fade, and you can finally breathe a little.

After tacos, we did what any reasonable group of people at the beach would do.

We got more ice cream.

Because apparently, ice cream was going to be a theme of the day.

From there, we headed back to the house for the night, full, tired, happy, and ready for a few days of beach, bikes, food, and time together.

Day one was a little chaotic, a little sleepy, and a lot of fun, which honestly might be the perfect way to start a beach trip.

30A Beach Trip: Day Two — The Ultimate Beach Day

Day two was what every beach trip hopes to become: sunshine, waves, music, food, laughter, and just enough chaos to make the memories better.

As any good vacation day would begin, we had a “tentative” schedule.

Now, for those unfamiliar with what “tentative” means when traveling with Tandi, it means whatever time you thought you were leaving, go ahead and add 45 more minutes.

Also, consider this a public service announcement for anyone who may vacation with Tandi in the future: do not speak to her until she has had her coffee.

Not a word.

Not a question.

Not even a cheerful “good morning.”

Just imagine you are staying in a haunted house, and when the ghost moves around, you all quietly agree to act like it was just your imagination. That is the safest approach until the coffee has fully entered her system.

After a couple cups of coffee and breakfast at the house, life began to feel a little safer. Spirits lifted. Conversations resumed. And eventually, the girls assigned Rudy and Pete the sacred responsibility of setting up the beach site.

Now, for anyone reading this, that may sound like a simple task.

It is not.

There is a very specific kind of pressure that falls on a man when he is asked to set up a beach spot without female supervision. You’re not just choosing a place to put chairs. You are making a decision that will be judged for shade, distance from water, distance from people, wind direction, walking distance, view quality, cooler accessibility, towel layout, and probably four other things we didn’t even know existed.

Pete and Rudy loaded up the bikes and rode all the gear down to the beach. And yes, we said gear, because apparently a chair and an umbrella are no longer enough to survive a few hours by the ocean. There were chairs, blankets, bags, food, towels, music, and enough supplies to make it feel like we were preparing to establish a small coastal village.

Once we arrived, we looked out across the vastness of the beach and immediately began debating where the girls would most likely approve.

Actually, “debating” may be too calm of a word.

It felt more like offering a sacrifice to the beach gods and hoping the location would be acceptable enough that we would not be struck down by lightning when the girls arrived.

After making our petitions known to God and asking for wisdom, we finally chose a spot and set up camp. Chairs were placed. Blankets were spread. Food was arranged. And, of course, music was playing.

Side note: Rudy is absolutely obsessed with his portable speakers. I am pretty confident that may have been the only thing he packed for the beach. Clothes? Optional. Toothbrush? Maybe. Speaker? Absolutely essential.

Eventually, the girls arrived, examined the site, and gave their approval.

Victory.

For about five minutes.

Then the waves came crashing in and tried to soak everything we owned, so we had to move the entire setup farther back. Because apparently, even the ocean wanted a say in where we sat.

Once we recovered and relocated, the day became everything we had hoped for. The sun was out, the waves were crashing, the music was playing, and everyone was loving life. It was one of those beach days where time slows down a little. Nobody is in a hurry. Nobody is checking the clock. You just sit there, laugh, eat snacks, listen to music, and remember why getting away together matters so much.

That evening, we all got dressed up and headed over to Inlet Beach. We walked around, shopped a little, took tons of photos, and had dinner together. The whole night had that perfect vacation energy, sun-kissed skin, full hearts, and everybody laughing at something.

One of the highlights of the evening was Rudy’s conspiracy theory about cell service.

His phone wasn’t working in certain areas, which naturally led him to conclude that “they” must control the cell service depending on where you are. Who is “they”? We still are not sure. But Rudy had thoughts, and we were all privileged to hear them.

We laughed all night long, took more pictures than necessary, and ended the evening the only way this trip apparently knew how to end a day:

With ice cream.

Day two was the ultimate beach day, a little sun, a little sand, a little stress over chair placement, a little conspiracy theory, and a whole lot of laughter. Honestly, it was perfect.

30A Beach Trip: Day Three — Bikes, Booty, and Bridges

Day three began with a decision that sounded innocent enough: “Let’s ride bikes.”

Now, when most people say they want to ride bikes at the beach, they mean a casual little ride down the street. Maybe grab coffee. Maybe look at some houses. Maybe feel the breeze for twenty minutes and call it exercise.

That is not what happened.

Somehow, we ended up riding like we were training for an Ironman.

First of all, I (Pete) have long legs. The rest of the group? Think Bilbo Baggins and friends…Enough said.

So when I was accused of being an “overachiever,” I would like to respectfully clarify that I was simply riding at a normal pace and then waiting for the hobbits to catch up.

The ride started with big dreams and beach-trip confidence. But your mind can have all the ambition in the world until your lack of recent exercise pops that bubble real quick.

There were hills.

There was heavy breathing.

There were questionable decisions.

And there were certain people… names will not be mentioned… walked their bikes up the very first hill.

These same people “allegedly” rode some obscene distance, like twenty miles, the last time they were here. Like I said there were no witnesses so I stand by “Allegedly.”

After the walk of shame, we kept riding and eventually made our way to Scratch Biscuit Kitchen for breakfast. And let us just say, it was worth every pedal, every hill, and every moment of questioning our life choices. The food was amazing. It was one of those meals where everyone gets quiet for a second because the biscuits are doing what they came to do.

After breakfast, we stopped in Seaside to do some shopping and wandering around. We came across the cutest bookstore, where a local author was signing books, which made the whole stop feel even more charming and perfectly 30A.

We took more pictures, because apparently that is just what you do on vacation. Then we found a frozen banana that was, honestly, to die for. It was one of those random beach treats that you do not expect to be a highlight, but then suddenly you’re wondering why frozen bananas are not part of your regular life back home.

After that, we started heading back.

Tandi told us she wanted to take a picture at the Draper Lake Bridge, so that became the next mission. Somehow or another, Jessica and I got ahead of Tandi and Rudy, and while we were standing near the bridge waiting, the peaceful moment was suddenly interrupted.

Out of nowhere, Tandi came flying down the hill like she was being chased by a bear. She yelled something that sounded like, “Get out of the way!” and blew right past us like she had lost control and accepted her fate.

Then came Rudy. Not to be overshadowed, Rudy came in even faster and somehow even more out of control. He locked up the brakes on that bike like he was on a drag strip timing a quarter mile.

All I could think was, “Yeah, I am definitely not getting my deposit back on these bikes.”

Thankfully, everyone survived the bridge incident, and we made it back to the house. We changed for the beach and quickly realized we were all dealing with the same painful truth:

Our butts were sore.

Beach biking sounds cute and aesthetic until you have been on that seat long enough to question every choice you have ever made.

But sore or not, we rallied and made our way back to the beach for more sun, sand, and relaxing.

And of course, we cannot talk about day three without mentioning Jessica’s dream:Pizza by the Sea.

The dinner conversation turned into a full debate over where we should eat, which eventually became less of a discussion and more like the old “Who’s on First?” sketch.

“Where are we eating?”

“Pizza by the Sea.”

“Right, but where?”

“Pizza by the Sea.”

“Yes, pizza by the sea sounds great, but what’s the name of the place?”

“Pizza by the Sea.”

“But are we eating pizza by the sea or is the place we are eating called pizza by the sea?!?!?”

“Yes”

It took longer than it should have, but eventually Rudy and Pete went and picked up the pizza. Jessica, naturally, took her aesthetic pictures of the pizza boxes, because if you eat pizza at the beach and do not photograph it, did it even happen?

Then we all dove in.

After a day full of bikes, bridges, biscuits, sore backsides, frozen bananas, and pizza boxes, we were tired in the best possible way.

Day three was hilarious, exhausting, beautiful, and completely unforgettable.

In other words, it was a great day.

First Day at Moondance — Our Glamping Adventure Begins

🌙 First Day at Moondance — Our Glamping Adventure Begins

There’s something magical about trading the noise of everyday life for the quiet hum of nature — and that’s exactly what we found at Destination Resort in Dadeville, Alabama.

Tucked beneath a canopy of trees, our glamp site — affectionately named “Moondance” — greeted us with twinkle lights, cozy comforts, and the soft sound of the creek just beyond the trees. It’s camping, but with every touch of charm and luxury you could dream of.

On the drive up to our cabin, we also had a brief moment where we both wondered if our friends were actually leading us into the woods to murder us. Every turn seemed to get darker and more “Deliverance-y,” and the GPS had stopped talking to us about two miles back. I told Jess that if they offered to show us a “really cool spot by the creek,” we were flooring it.

We started the day settling in — unpacking our bags, sitting on the deck while enjoying a quick snack and a Mexican Coke from the gas station before wandering down to the Adirondack chairs set right in the creek, and letting the cool water rush past our feet. The whole place feels designed to make you slow down and breathe a little deeper.

Later, we had dinner at Niffers where we enjoyed seven whole rounds of Bingo. Jess won a round, but nobody else at the table did. However, she was too nervous to shout “BINGO!” in front of a crowd of locals who clearly took their Bingo very seriously. So instead, she quietly slid her card over to me and made me walk it up front. There I was — explaining to the sweet but skeptical Bingo lady why the handwriting on the card looked way too neat to be mine. (Apparently, men don’t have the ability to have nice handwriting… which I dont but still).

Back at Moondance, we took full advantage of the private hot tub on our balcony. The stars — oh my word, the stars. There were so many of them! There’s nothing quite like that mix of fresh air, warm water, and stillness. Jess even tried to get a photo of the night sky but ended up with 37 blurry shots of sky because of the flash but we did capture a few.

To cap off the night, we watched an episode of The Summer I Turned Pretty on the laptop, which felt oddly appropriate — two people pretending they know what “relaxing” means while sneaking in our computer so that we can still connect to our technology.

Here’s to our first night at Moondance — where the stars are strong, and apparently so is my Bingo embarrassment tolerance.

Day 2 at Destination Resort – Dadeville, AL

🌄 Day 2 at Destination Resort – Dadeville, AL

Moondance Glamp Adventures Continue

We woke up to the peaceful sounds of the creek and started our morning with a delicious breakfast — and a dirty Alani to kick things off. (If you know, you know.)

After fueling up, we set out for a little adventure — hiking the Smith Mountain Tower and trails. The views were beautiful, the air was crisp… and our sense of direction? Questionable at best.

Feeling brave, we climbed up the Smith Mountain Fire Tower — or tried to. Halfway up, we realized there were more wasps than stairs. Every landing had a buzzing welcoming committee ready to defend their territory. I’m not saying we panicked, but the speed at which we turned around would’ve qualified us for an Olympic event. There’s bravery… and then there’s “nope, not today Satan” energy.

We thought we were confidently following the White Trail. Turns out, we were confidently lost off the White Trail. At one point, the trees got denser, the path disappeared, the pine straw got slicker and all four of us started wondering if this was how we were going to end up on a missing-persons documentary. Jess said, “If a bear shows up, you’re going to have. to figure this out because I cant drag you out of the woods…I’m not built for that life”. I told her not to worry — bears prefer snacks with less hairspray.

Eventually, we stumbled back onto civilization (or what felt like it) with a new respect for trail markers and a slightly higher heart rate.

After surviving nature’s surprise obstacle course, we returned to Moondance for some well-earned relaxation. We changed into our bathing suits and headed straight for the creek. The cool water and sound of the flowing stream were the perfect combo for reading, laughing, and pretending we were professional wilderness survivors.

Later, we had a couples massage right on our deck — surrounded by open air and nothing but nature. Pure bliss. Well, Pete said his masseuse almost made him cry when she was using her super human strength to massage out his childhood trama.

We ended the night with a Jamaican dinner full of flavor and laughter, followed by a few rounds of games with friends. Every time we’re together, it’s like the best kind of chaos — where the laughs never stop, the inside jokes never end (tp), and even getting lost turns into one of our favorite stories.

Day 3: Glamping at Moondance

🌤️ Glamping at Moondance – Day 3: Creekside Adventures and Cozy Moments

We started our third morning the same way we began our trip — back at our favorite breakfast spot for another dirty Alani and a toasted cream cheese bagel. There’s something about that little place that just feels like vacation — probably because calories and caffeine don’t count when you’re technically outdoors.

Before our next adventure, we stopped by a local market to pick up our traditional travel Christmas ornament — a little keepsake to remember each getaway — and grabbed a few snacks for the road.

A few peaceful hours kayaking down the creek and out to the lake sounded easy enough. The water was calm, the air warm, and the scenery pure Alabama beauty. But five minutes in, we realized steering a kayak together should count as couples therapy. Jess swore we were gliding in perfect rhythm; I was more concerned we were reenacting Titanic..iceberg dead ahead… or maybe a bolder would be more accurate.

Along the way, we spotted turtles sunbathing, a blue heron soaring above, and a snake casually swimming across the creek. Jess was sure it “locked eyes” with her. I was trying to reassure her that they were more afraid of us than we are of them, while trying to figure out a manly way to bail the boat if it came at us and scream “everyone for themselves”.

We eventually found a small sandy “beach” and decided it was the perfect lunch spot — a peaceful little island for our picnic. The plan was simple: pull up, step out, enjoy lunch. Except when I stepped out, I learned the hard way that not all “beaches” are created equal. What looked like a gentle shoreline turned out to be a trapdoor to the deep. One second I was ankle-deep… the next, chest-deep in freezing water. Jess laughed so hard she nearly dropped the chicken salad, and I came up looking like a man who just discovered his life jacket’s purpose. I’ve never seen a drop-off so steep in my life — one small step for man, one giant plunge for Pete.

Once I dried off (and my dignity partially returned), we finally sat down for our picnic — chicken salad, grape salad, crackers.

The way back oddly enough seemed faster than getting there and after getting beached again on some rocks we made it back to the dock. If we could have had a camera crew videoing us getting back on the dock and then getting the kayaks and canoes back in their spots we would be rich. Y’all the struggle was real.

Once everything was put back we went back to our favorite seats in the creek and played a long round of Would You Rather that had us laughing so hard we nearly fell back in.

The hot tub was calling our names, and after a soak under the trees, we both crashed into a nap that could only be described as “it touched our souls.”

That evening, we walked from our glamp to the host lodge for a private dinner made just for the two couples. The house was stunning — modern, elegant, and perched with a view that looked straight out of a movie. Before dinner, I somehow got talked into playing the piano, and soon everyone was standing around the kitchen swapping stories about life while the smell of dinner filled the air.

When it was time to eat, we were escorted downstairs to the wine cellar — dim lighting, perfect music, and the kind of atmosphere that makes you whisper even when you don’t need to. The host prepared everything himself, starting with his homemade Caesar salad dressing that honestly could’ve been served with a straw. (I said it, and I stand by it.)

Then came the steak and shrimp — hands-down, top five meals of our entire lives. Every bite felt like a mic drop. EJ and Thomas kept us laughing through the whole dinner, tossing out one-liners and inside jokes (we now say, the second is the best kind).

We finished the evening upstairs with peach cobbler and ice cream — warm, sweet, and made even better by the company. And we can’t forget Dexter, the hosts’ goldendoodle, who might just be the cutest dog in Alabama... sorry Cash we still love you but I’m shopping for a new friend for you.

It’s hard to put into words how special that night felt — one of those rare moments where everything slows down and you realize you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

As the stars came out over Moondance, we just kept saying what we always do — it’s the best days when we’re together, because the laughs never stop and the inside jokes never end.

Day 4: Acorns, Antiques & a Country Dave Matthews

Day 4: Acorns, Antiques & a Country Dave Matthews

If you’ve never been jolted awake by acorns that sound like sniper fire, have you really been glamping?

Our morning started with what we thought was a forest warzone. Turns out… just acorns. Aggressive, enthusiastic acorns apparently auditioning for “Saving Private Ryan.”

After surviving nature’s wake-up call, we did what any sane, mildly traumatized campers would do — we went straight to our trusted coffee shop for our beloved “Dirty Alanis.” (It’s espresso and chai, but make it fabulous.) Cups in hand, spirits restored, we hit the road toward the charming town of Dadeville for breakfast.

And let me tell you — this breakfast wasn’t just good, it was art. The kind of meal that makes you want to applaud the chef or write them a thank-you letter. Perfect presentation, full of flavor, and probably the only reason we didn’t try to nap in public afterward.

After breakfast, we strolled through downtown Dadeville like we were in a Hallmark movie — hand in hand, antique shops on every corner, and that sweet Southern charm in the air. Jess, of course, managed to sniff out a boutique within seconds. She fell in love instantly (with the clothes, thankfully). A few minutes later, she walked out looking cozy chic and runway-ready — proof that even in the middle of Alabama, fashion finds her.

Next stop: lunch. Because apparently breakfast wasn’t enough. We dug into chicken wings and BBQ waffle fries, a combo so good it probably deserves its own holiday. Just as we were about to waddle out, we heard cheering — and boom! The Dadeville High Homecoming Parade was rolling by. Marching bands, floats, the works. Small-town magic at its finest.

With the day winding down, we headed back to our glamp site to start packing (insert dramatic sigh). We walked over to Thomas and EJ’s place for a quick hang, then grabbed pizza for dinner — because carbs are the love language of travel.

As if the day hadn’t been perfect enough, the resort surprised us with a private concert. The artist? Imagine if Dave Matthews was born in Nashville and raised on sweet tea — that’s the vibe. Smooth voice, great energy, and the perfect soundtrack to close out an unbelievable week.

We ended the night under the stars, full hearts, full stomachs, and probably still a little jumpy from the morning acorn assault.

Glamping, you’ve been wild and wonderful. Until next time

Snorkels, snacks and snoring thunder

Jesus picks us up again.

Yes, Jesus was our driver. I mean he changed his appearance but his name never changed. I think Jesus may or may not be sponsored by Armor All. I swear his backseat was so shiny and slick it could have been mistaken for an oil rig spill. Jessica was a little skeptical about taking us rogue-style outside the hotel shuttle zone, but I reassured him, “Jesus has never failed us and He won’t start now!” Can I get an amen?! 🙌

At aqua world we got a layout of the facility 10/10 would recommend. They gave us the run down and Jess hopped in the drivers seat. Jess drove us like a boss… until she got slapped in the face by a wave so hard it practically filed a restraining order against her. But spirits were high! I still think Pete saw it coming and gave me NO WARNING! Not to mention, he kept the camera on in hopes to see it again.

We snorkeled with Finding Nemo’s extended family, gliding over coral reefs that looked like underwater art installations curated by Poseidon and Ariel. We even saw a turtle! 🐢 (He gave us a wise nod. Might’ve been just breathing, but I took it as spiritual affirmation like “Well done Pete”.) This was a little God-wink, as Jess’ favorite honeymoon memory was the sea turtles being so close to us.

Unfortunately, every time we found a perfect fishy view, an overly annoying couple from overseas would suddenly appear in front of us — full snorkel block our views. We were officially snorkel-blocked. Multiple times.

Then it was my turn to drive the boat. How do I say this? I am pretty sure Jessica would have felt more confident in blindfolded goats on rollerblades the boat was a lot more squirrelly than I anticipated. It all went south when the tour guide insisted I ram the boat up the launch ramp like we were Vin Diesel in Fast & the Flotation Device. Eventually, he just sighed and said, “Ya know what… just let go. I got this.” Captain Confidence had entered the chat.

Jesus, bless his shiny ride, picked us up again and drove us back while we admired the views like two very sun-kissed , waterlogged poets.

By the time we got back to the resort, we were so hungry I swear I could see my own ribcage writing “feed me” in Morse code. We aimed for the Lobster House but — plot twist — they were closed because apparently lobsters observe the Sabbath now.

We tried the spot next door, but they told us they wouldn’t serve us for 10 more minutes. Ten minutes?! We were basically biblical figures at this point. I looked Jess dead in the eyes and quoted scripture: “If I don’t eat now, I shall surely perish” — Esau, probably.

So we limped down to the OG food spot and ordered enough food to feed a wedding party. Salmon tacos, nachos, shrimp cocktails, potatoes, garlic fish, desserts. Yes, we were judged. Yes, we felt it. And yes, we licked our plates anyway.

After our feast, it was back to the beach where Pete resumed his part-time gig as a professional napper. Jess, the overachiever, cracked open her book while we were gently harassed by beach vendors offering everything from bracelets to a full set of patio furniture.

Later, we swam in a massive, eerily empty pool. Just us and one mysterious couple who may or may not have been vampires. Honestly, it felt like we’d rented out a private villa. Fancy vibes. So exclusive.

I told Jess I wanted a Coke. Normal sentence, right? But in pure Pete fashion, that led to me becoming besties with three complete strangers while Jess sat solo in the hot tub contemplating whether the distant conch-shell blowing was:

A) A resort performance

B) Someone celebrating a birthday

C) The actual Rapture

Spoiler: it was neither just more people selling shells now.

Back to the beach. Nap #2. Pete edition.

Apparently, there were more people around this time, which is odd because by the time I woke up to thunder… there were none. Just empty chairs and the soft echo of waves. Come to find out there was thunder just not from the clouds but from me. Jess looked at me and said, “I think your snoring scared everyone away.” Imagine being so powerful your snoring clears beaches. Add that to the résumé.

Time for dinner. Jess looked like she was ready for a magazine cover. I looked like I was about to tee off at a mid-level country club.

We dined at “The Grill” — I feasted on ribeye, creamed spinach, onion rings. While Jess had, sirloin, asparagus, mashed potatoes (so good they deserved their own Instagram account). Romantic vibes were strong… until a literal herd of Coatisprinted past our window. Not once. Dozens of them. A Coati flash mob. It was like National Geographic: Resort Edition.

As we were walking back to the room we saw they were setting up for a circus show by the pool. Amazing, right? So we waited in our room two full hours until show time. Jess was fading fast, but I said, “Trust me. It’ll be worth it.”

I regret everything.

It was like Cirque du Soleil’s understudies called in sick and their elementary cousins filled in. At one point, they pulled a woman from the audience and instead of being shy, she sprinted on stage like she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment maybe it was the liquor in her or the fact that the guy was just walking in a hamster wheel but Respect nonetheless.

We laughed. A lot. But mostly at, not with.

Back in our room, because we’re Americans and this is our God-given vacation right, we ordered chicken fingers and fries from room service. I guess Pete didn’t want to mention this part, so I’ll add it in. He tried calling for room service from the phone in the room NEXT to the toilet… gluttony much? Ridding of one meal while preparing for the next.

We watched a movie on my phone (because every channel was in Spanish and we know uno and queso and that’s it). Jess fell asleep mid-scene. All was peaceful until the chicken fingers… hit.

Let’s just say I “released the pressure” like a gentleman — silently. But apparently, the aroma had notes. Jess sat up like the undead and gasped, “What… was… that?!”

Listen. It wasn’t great. But it was a memorable ending to a great day.

Beach bums, bougie naps & buffet trauma

Woke up to a chef’s kiss of a day — blue skies, beach breeze, and the kind of weather that practically bullies you into being happy. Naturally, it was time to start the day with a feast at “The Kitchen Table”— which should honestly be renamed “The Kitchen Table (And Possibly Everything in the Fridge Too)” because the spread was ridiculous. Like for real, they had everything including sushi and smoked salmon.

Jess, in her unusual chaotic breakfast energy, went for an omelet, bacon, and…stale cereal. Like, so stale it crunched louder than the gravel in the parking lot. She also had a full existential crisis mid-bite when she discovered grapes have seeds. You should’ve seen the betrayal in her eyes. “Why is it crunchy??” Because, Jess. Nature. But why Pete? Why would someone want grapes with seeds when you can purchase seedless ones?

We walked off the trauma on the beach and scoped out the other resorts, which (not to brag, but…) made ours look like Beyoncé in a sea of budget Airbnbs. No hate, but we were absolutely judging the accommodations. Respectfully.

Then came the bougie beach chair portion of the day. Picture this: waves crashing, seagulls soaring, sun beaming down…and me, fully passed out. Nap #1: activated. Jess was unable to enjoy her nap due to the fact that Pete’s snoring was louder than the sounds of the crashing waves. Instead of napping, she read.

After roasting ourselves into two seasoned rotisserie chickens, we went for lunch. The resort’s pizza had amazing reviews, which I can only assume were written by toddlers or people who have never had pizza. 6.5/10, and that’s me being generous. I only gave it extra points because it was warm and edible.

Post-pizza, we hit the pool while listening to Alabama fold Wisconsin like laundry. Roll Tide, baby. The spirit of the Tide fueled our backstrokes.

Then it happened.

Jess got a craving… for a hot dog. We found this adorable little “food truck” (think Pinterest board meets street meat). Was the hot dog worth the 15-minute wait? I’ll never know. Jess inhaled it like a Dyson on turbo mode. I blinked, and it was gone. She claims there were fries. I have no proof.

***Insert Jess’ version here. I wanted a hot dog. Simple, right? And yes, after the terrible pizza we had for lunch, I was a little hungry. Am I the hungry, hungry hippo that Pete referenced… no, we know he embellishes quite a bit. He also failed to mention he ate half my fries***

Full of processed meats and artificial joy, we floated over to the lazy river. On the way, Jess looked at me and said, “I think you got some sun,” which is code for “you are now legally a lobster.” And yes — I felt it. Especially during the shower, which quickly turned into a one-man opera called “AAAAHHHHHHH! MY SKIN!”

After recovering from my shower trauma, we set our sights on a dinner spot boasting a 48oz Tomahawk steak. Y’all. I’ve been dreaming about this steak. Literally. I whispered sweet nothings to a Google image of it the night before.

But first, we made a pit stop at the sports bar to catch the LSU v. Florida game — where we encountered a pack of LSU fans who were already a dozen hurricanes deep by 5 PM. Spirits: high. Volume: louder than any parenting advice my mom’s ever given. They were screaming at the TV like the coach could hear them from across international waters. It does prove my theory that LSU fans are the most fair-weather, wish-washy fan base of all time.

And then… tragedy struck.

We get to the steak place and not only is there a 45-minute wait… they’re out of steak. I’ll give you a moment to grieve. We sure did.

But God gives with one hand and deep-fries with the other — so we got hot wings, football, and more LSU chaos. These fans? Unhinged. At one point, someone started giving play-by-play coaching advice — as if coach himself was phoning it in via FaceTime.

On the walk back, we had an impromptu saxophone concert from a dude who looked suspiciously like Josiah Broussard (his doppelgänger is apparently moonlighting at the resort). Were we supposed to be walking through that area? Absolutely not. Did we turn around? Also no. Jess and I just danced through like it was a flash mob and kept it moving.

Oh, and important detail: we tried playing shuffleboard. I’ll keep this short: lame. HOWEVER, worth it because we got front-row seats to a very drunk man eating the concrete like a sack of potatoes. Thankfully, the scene was quickly taken over by a group of intoxicated nurses who immediately turned into Grey’s Anatomy extras. One yelled “Get him flat!” like we were in an episode of ER and not…next to a shuffleboard court. Sis, it’s not that deep. Get him an ice pack and a Gatorade.

Final thoughts:

Day 2 gave us beach naps, pizza lies, football chaos, and a small saxophone concert. 10/10 would dance through restricted areas again.

Anniversary Adventure Day 1 🏝️✈️

Our day started long before the sun even thought about rising — 4 a.m. wake-up call to hit the road for the New Orleans airport. As expected, Jessica’s car narcolepsy kicked in and she curled up and slept most of the drive, but I managed to wake her up for breakfast. That’s when the first surprise of the trip began.

I handed her an anniversary card, filled with a sweet note and, at the bottom, a little instruction: “over.” On the back was a simple website address — www.peteandjesstravel.com. Jess immediately powered on her phone, typed it in, and her face lit up with shock.

For weeks, she had been convinced we were heading to San Antonio, Texas. But in that moment, she discovered the truth: we weren’t going to Texas at all. We were leaving the country… straight to Cancun, Mexico! Hola Jess

Naturally, the questions followed — “What about my passport? What about the details?” Don’t worry, babe. I had everything planned… well, mostly. My first fail of the day? When she saw her boarding pass and realized my fat fingers typed D instead of E in her middle name. Cue the panic — Jess was convinced Homeland Security was going to lock her in a cell. The actual fix? A quick change at the counter. Crisis averted.

Once through security, we settled at the gate. Jess picked up a beach read, and we indulged in one of our favorite pastimes: people-watching. Aaaaannnnd Spirit Airlines did not disappoint. Let’s just say the entertainment had already started before we ever left the ground. We reminded ourselves a few times that “just because they were on our flight didn’t mean they’d be at our resort”, thank God!

The flight itself was quick and painless, though the seats felt more like metal bleachers than airplane chairs. We discovered a new snack that we’d never had before, and will probably order again on the return flight. Two hours later, we touched down in Cancun. Immigration was comically easy — apparently, no one really cared that we were there. Just a simple “what’s your name and how long are you here?” Ok next!

A quick bathroom break before getting our luggage, where Jess was handed the paper towels after washing her hands. Has the service really already started and we aren’t even at the resort yet? Pete got a little concerned about how long I was in the bathroom for, but I guess that’s partially my fault because of how much I talked about being “taken” and begging him to keep me in his sights.

We navigated through the airport, skillfully dodging taxi vendors, until we found our ride. Waiting for us was our concierge, Jesus (yes, Jesus met us in Mexico 🙌). And let me tell you — He came prepared. We climbed into a brand-new Ford Expedition Platinum Edition, and Jess leaned over and said, “Sorry boo, but this is the new standard.” I mean, how can we go back to a regular little taxi after being greeted by that? Heated seats, cold water and a push start? 😉

Arriving at the resort was pure magic. The gates opened to paradise. And the smell… oh the yummy smell of the lobby! It took me back to our Honeymoon at The Ritz. Staff greeted us at the car, whisked away our bags, and handed us champagne and chilled towels. Our bellhop escorted us through check-in, gave us the full resort tour (though it felt like a bit of information overload), and reassured us that “it’s all in the app.” My word they push the app hard. All Jess could see while he talked was the guy in “The Proposal” singing, “relax, don’t do it…”

We passed the time with tacos and nachos on the beach until our room was ready. At 2:30, we finally got our key — and the door had a sign celebrating our anniversary. The room? Absolutely stunning. Two jetted tubs (one inside, one on the balcony) and an ocean view that made us stop and just breathe it in. The light switches owned us a bit… our room lit up like strobe lights in the club while we tried to figure out what was what.

We changed into swimsuits, hit the pool and hot tub, and met some hilarious new friends from Houston. Later, we cleaned up for dinner and took in a Mexican cultural show — complete with a mariachi band and a journey through Mexico’s history. The only downside? The mosquitoes decided I was their buffet. By the time we got back, Jess looked at me and said, “your back looks like a connect-the-dots page from all your bites.”

Exhausted and happy, we crashed into the most comfortable bed and slept a glorious 10 hours straight.

Day one: surprises, laughter, adventure, and tacos. Couldn’t ask for a better start. 🌊🌮