From our June issue: Readers share anecdotes that once again prove that travel is stranger, funnier, and more heartwarming than fiction. Plus, this month's prize winning story about a lost wife on Valentine's Day.
New Prize: Celebrity cruise for two
The best response we receive between May 14, 2008, and June 30, 2008, wins a Celebrity Cruises sailing for two good for up to 14 nights in Hawaii, Alaska, the Caribbean, or South America (excluding the Galápagos on Celebrity Xpedition). The prize includes accommodations in a veranda stateroom and is valid from Sept. 1, 2008, to Aug. 31, 2009. For more information on Celebrity Cruises: 800/852-7239, celebritycruises.com.
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This month's winner!
This month's winner is Gene Jackson of Longmont, Colo. His prize is a five-night trip to New Zealand from ATS Tours.
On our final day in Cancún, I headed to the beach to read while my wife went to the room. After an hour, I called the room, but there was no answer. I figured she got sidetracked. When another hour passed with no sign of her, I called again—still no answer. As soon as I walked into the room, I heard pounding on the bathroom door and saw a washcloth on the floor with "help" scrawled on it in mascara. "Get me out of here!" my wife was yelling. "I'm locked in!" She'd been trapped in the bathroom for two and a half hours. What a way to spend Valentine's Day!
Mr. T couldn't pose because he was, you know, busy
My husband and I were in a daze when we arrived in Chicago, having just completed a 96-day backpacking adventure around the world. As we shuffled past the Sears Tower on the way home, we spotted both Conan O'Brien and Mr. T on the street! Sensing our excitement, Conan agreed to pose with us for a photo and joked, "Let's pretend we're in the Himalayas." We couldn't believe he was the first person to welcome us home. Lilly LeClair, Princeton, N.J.
Good schlep is hard to find
We went to Venice in November, which happens to be flood season, so I was forced to buy a pair of boots that I could slosh around in. I was en route to Piazza San Marco when I encountered a stylish businesswoman. She kept gesturing toward the water, my feet, my backpack, and the next bridge. But she was speaking French, so I didn't understand a word, and she huffed off after a minute or two. Later, when I saw her getting a piggyback ride from a man, I realized what she had wanted. Susan Green, Lawrence, Mass.
Hey, if the boob fits...
I was thrilled to be having my first-ever massage, in a spa on the Riviera Maya. But when the therapist indicated that I was to lie face down, I knew I was in trouble. I'm well-endowed with fibrocystic breasts that are very tender, so there was no way I could do as she said. As she tried to reposition me, I squirmed, trying to find a way to get comfortable. Suddenly, I felt relief: One breast had entered the table's face opening, and the other was on the outside. The bewildered masseuse handed me a folded towel to rest my head on. I was never able to relax, though—I kept chuckling, wondering what the masseuse would tell her friends. Barbara Ridihalgh, Carmen, Idaho
Italians and baseball: a strike waiting to happen
My husband and two sons are huge baseball fans, so they made sure to bring along mitts and a ball for our camping trip in Italy. One day, as they were playing catch, they attracted the attention of local kids who had heard of baseball but had never actually seen it up close. Pretty soon they all got a game going, using the handle of a broken beach umbrella as a bat. For the rest of our stay, the kids would come to our cabin every day at 7 a.m., ready to play. Nancy Gill, Reno, Nev.
Watch your toothbrush
On a Mexican Riviera cruise, my husband and I were entertained by the creative towel critters that our cabin steward left for us every evening. One night, we decided to return the favor, constructing an "indisposed person" inside our bathroom. The steward's screams turned to laughter when he realized that we had upped the ante. Terri Stanley, Raleigh, N.C.
Our first guess would've been a nun with a bullwhip
My friend Holly and I were in Oaxaca the night before the Mexican presidential election. There had been political and social unrest all summer, so as we went to bed, we weren't sure what to expect the next day. I awoke to Holly tugging my arm and shouting, "It's the revolution! Wake up!" Noises that sounded like gunshots were coming from outside, and a crowd had gathered. We huddled on the floor, trying to figure out how to contact the U.S. embassy for help getting home. It was terrifying. Holly crawled to the door and peered out. Just then, a bunch of "gunshots" went off, and the crowd cheered. The gunshots were fireworks. The kid next door was celebrating a birthday. Jenny McCarthy, Carrboro, N.C.
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