Dave Barry - Dave Barry’s Only Travel Guide You’ll Ever Need

a. Snake Man!”

b. Swamp Devil!”

c. Giant Radioactive Meat-Eating Box Turtle of Death!”

4. But the campers just laughed.

5. “Ha ha!” were their exact words.

6. Until they found little Jennifer’s gallbladder on the Hibachi.

And so on. Dad should tell this story in a soft, almost hypnotic voice, lulling the children into a trance-like state in which they are aware of nothing except the story and the terror and the still, sinister darkness all around them and

OH MY GOD! IT COMES

And then it’s time for everybody to “call it a night” and climb, all five of you, into the sleeping bag with Mom.

As we have seen in the preceding chapters, traveling is a tremendous amount of fun, but eventually, you become too tired and broke and diseased to continue. Then it’s time to come home, drop your suitcases right at the front door, kick off your shoes, and stagger into the kitchen to quench your thirst with a nice cold ... NO DON’T OPEN THE REFRIGERATOR AIEEEEEE ... You have no idea what kinds of fierce predatory meat-eating fungi have been growing in there (Sometimes in less than an hour) while you were gone. They’ve been feeding on the highly nutritious Chinese take-out food that you’ve been wisely storing in the back of your refrigerator for several months in case it suddenly appreciates in value. Your refrigerator has developed individual mold spores the size of Doberman pinschers, and they are going to be very angry if you just barge into their territory and try to grab something. The American Medical Association, in an alarming 1989 report (There is no further information contained in this footnote) stated that the leading cause of death

among Americans returning from trips is being attacked by refrigerator mold. “Never enter your kitchen after a trip without a working flamethrower in your hand,” advises the AMA.

This is assuming, of course, that you still have a kitchen. There’s always the possibility that your house has burned down, and the only thing that survived the fire is the stack of credit-card bills documenting all the shrewd purchases you made on your trip, such as the $197.50 Authentic Souvenir Limbo Stick that was confiscated by U.S. Customs because it contained lethal parasites.

And even if your house is still there, there’s always the chance that your plumbing—which has sophisticated electronic sensors so it knows the instant you leave home—has developed a leak, which doesn’t sound like such a big deal until you consider that the Grand Canyon, for example, is basically the result of water damage.

And speaking of damages, you should check the dense growth that has sprung up around your house in case it contains the moaning, semi-deceased body of a mailperson or door-to-door salesperson, or meter reader, or one of the dozens of other people who could have visited your house while you were gone and tripped on a Dangerous Hazard in your yard, such as the ground, causing him to fall and severely injure his back, resulting in so much Pain and Suffering that he has been unable to move, except of course to notify his attorney and put a down payment on a motor yacht the size of Utica, New York.

But never mind these temporary problems. The point is that you had fun, right? Remember the Old Traveler’s Saying: “You may lose your money and your health and your sanity and some important organs, but they can’t take away your travel memories unless they hit you hard on the head.” These are the words I live by, as a traveler, and in these pages I’ve tried to share my vast knowledge with you as a way of saying “Thank You!” for buying this book.

Unless of course you just borrowed this book, in which case I hope that the next time you travel, your luggage winds up on a space probe.

Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning syndicated columnist at the Miami Herald. His books include Homes and Other Black Holes, Dave Barry’s Greatest Hits, Dave Barry Slept Here , and Dave Barry Turns 40 , among others.