- My family would drive from Canada to Florida every March to spend time with my grandparents.
- I have some of the best memories of spending time in their apartment.
- It was a privilege to be able to spend so much time with my family.
For most 8-year-olds, waking up at four in the morning would be an unwelcome experience. But for me, waking up on a cold March morning in 1998, I was ready to go. It was ours first family road tripand we headed to my grandparents’ place in Marco Island, Florida. And, in what was probably an attempt to keep me quiet, my parents had bought me a brand new Gameboy with Pokémon on it – I couldn’t wait to go.
I didn’t know it yet, but this was the first step in what would become one of them the most important annual events of my entire life.
We would travel from Canada to Florida
Each year, March Break was determined starting from our home in Ottawa, Canadato “The Condo” (it achieved proper name status in my family a long time ago) – Florida’s mild year-round weather, a welcome and almost magical contrast to Ottawa’s icy roads and gray skies in March.
My grandparents bought the condo after they retired in the early 90s and my childhood winters were punctuated by two weeks of glorious heat every year.
Our first day often ended in Roanoke, Virginia, an infamous place in our family lore. This was mainly because we were all motion sick from our first day spent in a car, inevitably blowing up on our only night on the town. The second day usually ended in Orlando or Tampa Bay, staying so that we kids could we get tired at Disney WorldUniversal Studios, or, eventually, the Kennedy Space Center.
Over the years, the story has remained the same, even if the details have changed: the early, sick start in Virginia, hours wasted on a Gameboyand spending a few days at the theme parks before heading to the Condo.
It felt like the place just belonged to us
To me, Marco Island was a place that felt as personal as someone else’s secret family recipe. It was a place just for us: no one outside our family had ever heard of it. A small retirement community on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, today it still has fewer than 20,000 residents.
In the years since our first trip, Marco Island it’s been at the center of dozens of seminal memories: few more iconic than splashes in the pool as thick-accented Boston snowbirds choked their way through calisthenics sessions on us. Inevitably, we were the only children in the compound, apart from a few others who were also visiting their grandparents – we made and quickly forgot our new friends each year, united in the long experience of our days of being under five feet. tall.
Countless awkward photos were taken (and hopefully lost), including my live impersonation of a pelican wandering around our favorite restaurant, the aptly named Pelican Bend. The first time I was allowed to stay up until midnight was at the Condo in Y2K, watching Nickelodeon coverage of the big event. Teaching my younger sister how to play mini-golf, taking my first flight without my parents when I visited in my 20s. I even introduced my future wife on a video call with my grandparents while I was staying in the apartment (“She’s 10!” my grandmother shouted).
It was a privilege to have that time with my family
I didn’t know it then, but every early morning wake up call and afternoon spent at the beach was a privilege – to be able to bond so strongly with my family, my grandparents and, ultimately, my love of travel.
A couple of months ago, my parents told me this Hurricane Milton was headed straight for Marco Islandand held our collective breath for her landing. While the hurricane left more toppled lawn chairs than serious damage, we were all relieved—something so essential to us couldn’t just be wiped away, right?
Today, I live in the humidity of South Africa, having moved here a few years ago, with scents in the air that remind me of Marco Island. Travel, especially road trips, became a central feature of my adult life. And for years, I really couldn’t explain the powerful, almost irresistible urge to download the latest version of Pokémon every time I had a ride in line.
I think I got it now.
