A Lesson on Joy: When a Vacation Goes Wrong – and Somehow Goes Right

Indeed, spontaneity taught me a lesson about joy when a vacation went awry.
(pages 57 – 60, The Productive Perfectionist)

I never wanted to go to Uruguay. My dream was to go to Rio De Janeiro. My husband thought Uruguay sounded interesting based on a 2014 New York Times article. I agreed to Uruguay on the condition that we could spend half the time in Rio.

We got to the airport and gave the agent our tickets. She asked for our visas. My husband, who did all the organizing for the trip, looked stunned. My husband is very detail-oriented, thorough, and fastidious. He said, “You have to be kidding me. I bought the tickets and have been talking with ticket agents and tour guides. No one mentioned that we have to have a visa to go to Rio!” The ticket agent said, “Sorry, but we can’t let you on the plane without it.” She canceled our tickets and said we could reuse them another time.

I was about to cry. We grabbed our bags and found a seat in a nearby café. “What are our options?” I was ready to strangle him. My husband is an experienced traveler who understands the visa issue, having traveled extensively on business to China and other developing countries. How could he have missed this detail?

We started trying to figure out what to do. How much money had we lost? How much more would we have to spend to go anywhere else?

But another feeling arose: the thrill of an adventure.

Over the previous month, I kept hearing about this beautiful resort area in Uruguay: Punta Del Este. First, from my young Argentine hairdresser, who said all the hip young people go there to party. And second, from a client of mine who had spent a lot of time there and said that the beaches were gorgeous—white sand, fabulous restaurants, and a relaxed, crime-free environment.

My husband doesn’t tend to look to his young hairdresser as the source for planning last-minute vacations, though. And we don’t do beach vacations. But, given the unusual circumstances, my husband was relieved I had a plausible idea. Still, he suggested Panama or somewhere else in South America that doesn’t require a visa.

We returned to the ticket agent and explored options. Given that we already had tickets from Uruguay to New York, we thought, why not just spend the entire vacation in Uruguay? However, as it was pre-Christmas, there were only two tickets left to Uruguay from New York for the following night—for an additional $1,000 each. On impulse, we took them and headed to Miami that night.

I finally started crying in Miami over the loss of the chance to go to Rio. My husband, too, was terribly disappointed at the loss of all his hard work, money, and planning. We talked it through, had a couple of cocktails in South Beach, and the world started to seem pretty good. The next day, we started looking online for a place to stay in Punta. We found an amazing spa with an indoor hot tub, sauna, and outdoor pool, near the beach, in a charming neighborhood—for around $115 a night.

Punta was amazing. It was so sunny, quiet, easygoing, and relaxed. I settled right in. Having traveled to other South American countries such as Colombia and Argentina, I was accustomed to having armed guards and pickpockets everywhere. But Punta was nothing like that. It was full of parakeets, white sandy beaches, charming restaurants, art galleries, and a variety of unique neighborhoods—including one called Beverly Hills, with one-acre plots and multimillion-dollar homes.

My surprise was that, although I still wanted to go to Rio, it seemed like Punta and Montevideo were a perfect respite for my husband and me. We walked the beaches, I read a light book called The Night Circus, and fell in love with the two circus performers, Widget and Poppet, swam in the refreshing water, enjoyed the long days (the sun set at nine each night), and ogled the gorgeous sunsets. My favorite memory was visiting the Casa Pueblo, designed by the famous Uruguayan artist Carlos Páez Vilaró, and watching the sunset. It is a Uruguayan tradition that while the sun sets, you hear a poem read in Spanish about the sunset. 

Somehow, this whole trip felt more energizing than others because we had to improvise and didn’t know what would happen. My life in New York City is so busy and focused on constantly planning and scheduling that it felt so refreshing to wing it and be open to possibilities. The A-ha for me was realizing I need more spontaneity in my life. I have a lot of freedom and creativity in my work life as a coach, facilitator, and trainer. But I don’t leave enough space for improvisation; I am constantly doing. The trip was about being.

Given that I’m a perfectionist in recovery, I’m a bit of a pessimist. I often become fearful if there isn’t a plan. My mind goes to the ten things that might go wrong. This trip reinforced the idea that life can be lived and enjoyed without a plan. 

The learning for me was to leave space for dreaming, for doing nothing, for wandering, for not having a goal every minute of every day. I came back from that trip reenergized and looking forward to making time for just being. How is that for a new goal? And I am even becoming more of an optimist.