Wild Road Trips and Prince Caspian Productions—Part 1

Wild Road Trips

I’m not slacking off on posting, really. (Though that wouldn’t be beneath me.) See, last week, my family was traveling down to South Carolina to see a play of Prince Caspian (more on that later), and between that and having the brain cells of a flea, I wasn’t able to write anything. Which, technically, was a good thing, because now I have lots of good material:

A Baran Family Road Trip.

We’ve been on many of them in our short existence, and let me tell you, they’re pretty insane. Without further ado, BEHOLD. *gestures wildly below*

(Disclaimer: My camera had a misfire this trip, so all pictures were taken with someone’s phone. As such, they are neither pretty nor good quality, and I take no responsibility for either of these things. So don’t sue me.)

We left last Thursday. The morning of departure, we were all raring to go, except for a certain person who shall remain nameless (Anna). This person decided fifteen minutes before we left that life was black. (It always happens to one of us before a trip, be it Dad, Anna, or Joseph. Never me.) Being my kind, understanding self, I responded in love and patience, but apparently, she didn’t want a detailed, point-by-point list of exactly how stupid she was being, and proceeded to tell me to go away.

This is the nature of our relationship.

But we made it over that minor speed bump, and once we were finally in the car and on the road, the squabbling and complaining dissolved into scintillating, intelligent conversation, like how dumb Patrick Gates is in National Treasure, or what it would be like if someone painted their skin purple and pretended to be an alien.

See how disgusted I am?

After the first of what was probably 1,537 Panera Bread coffee breaks, we made lunch.


This is my gourmet Mop’s idea of a healthy, mobile lunch: Lettuce, tic-tacs, and motor oil, all wrapped up on the car floor.

After 5.38 hours of monotonous driving which I shan’t recount for the sake of sanity, we passed Butt Hollow Rd. (yes, this is real), found a Cracker Barrel, and stopped for dinner.



Anna’s approach vs. mine.

When we got out of Cracker Barrel, the heavens decided to let loose and hail. This is a weird occurrence that generally takes place when we’re trying to travel, and is an overall nuisance. Hail or snow storms. Sometimes both.


As you can see, we’re rather disgusted, except for Dad, who I’m pretty sure is thinking about marshmallows.

Another few hours of monotonous driving, and we finally entered the Bible Belt of the Carolinas. As Anna so eloquently put it, “We’re definitely in the Bible Belt. *pause* I don’t know where the Bible Belt is.”

Classic Anna.

Seriously though, within ten minutes, I think we passed eleven or twelve churches. There were so many churches that we made a game out of it: We’d each try to spot them first, and when we did, we’d bellow at the top of our lungs, “CHURCH!!!” This backfired when we came to a town where practically every building looked like a church.

“Chur—no, bank.”

CHURCH!!! Oh. Cremation Service.”

In our defense, there was a cross outside.

We eventually made it to Greenville, where we were staying, and discovered that our hotel was undergoing remodeling. Typical. Of course, we were still allowed to stay there, only the lobby looked somewhat like a dump truck had driven through it. After Anna had a brief hysterical meltdown in the elevator due to claustrophobia, during which I was my typical, caring self, (“Anna, for pity sake, stop being stupid and get a grip.”), I dropped my expensive camera in the hallway and was pronounced dumb by most of my family, including myself. Poetic justice at its best.

The next day was the play, and to say that I was ecstatic is an understatement. I was practically dead. Of course, it didn’t start until 7 PM, so we had the whole day ahead of us to veg and eat fruit loops. (You simply cannot stay at a Home Wood Suites and NOT get fruit loops. I’m sorry.) We decided to take a drive around Greenville, since we love it there, and I was assured numerous times that we would NOT go thrift-store shopping. Guess what we did instead?

Thrift-store shopping.

Look, I don’t mind checking out thrift-stores. But checking out thrift-stores with my family is practically a death sentence to the hater of dust and clothes from the ’70s. I think they took pity on me though, because we got ice cream afterwards.

Ignore the fact that it looks like I’m ramming mine into my chin, because I’m not.

First off, I did not order two scoops. That was a happy accident on their part. Second, why is Anna’s cone upside down? I don’t know, but there is nothing more perfect than Anna’s ice cream matching her personality.

We headed back to the hotel after that, since it was late and we needed to get ready for the play. Once there, a minor incident involving a fire alarm ensued, in which we were actually not the culprits. Randomly, all the fire alarms in the hotel started blaring, and lights started flashing and there was general chaos, but no fire. Naturally, I happened to be the one in the shower at the time…

Then, with full hearts and excited heads, we set off for the Academy of Arts to see the spectacular performance of Prince Caspian.

And folks, that recap is way too long to cram into this post. Stay tuned for part 2 of our Baran Family Escapade.

Oh, and in my notebook of blog ideas, a small note is scribbled that says, “Observe: Drainage ditch”.


Guys, be sure to observe those drainage ditches.



12 thoughts on “Wild Road Trips and Prince Caspian Productions—Part 1

  1. A Baran Family Road Trip sounds like a good place to be. XD I love this. I love all your family/life posts, okay?
    And my favorite picture is the comparison of you and Anna at Cracker Barrel. Seriously, how DO you manage to make such awesome camera expressions.
    I wait with great expectations for part 2.
    *goes off to observe those drainage ditches*


  2. In my defense, regarding said mobile lunch, at least the lettuce was ORGANIC.

    And I’m not exactly sure what the problem is here. You wrap the tic tacs in letttuce leaves, drizzle with a little motor oil, and voila! Lunch is served!



    1. Hey, sounds delicious. And with ORGANIC lettuce, too…I mean, what’s to add?

      (But I think I might be allergic to motor oil, so…I’d have to opt for something else. However sacrificial it would be.)


        1. Ah, excellent idea. *inspects pen* I adore crunchy foods.
          (Just ask my mother. “Having fun, Emma?” “Yeah, I just had to get all this crunchy cheese off the edge of the pan. Couldn’t let it go to waste, you know.” πŸ˜‰ )


          1. And the dirt on the floor would give it some much needed protein…sprinkle it over the motor oil so it won’t fall out of the lettuce….and it is free range pastured dirt at that!

            This really needs to end.


            1. And I suppose you have a certified non-petroleum plastic lettuce bag there too? I’m impressed. You certainly go your lengths. πŸ˜‚

              O Sarah do you truly know me too well. XD You’re absolutely right.

              Liked by 1 person

  3. Um, can I break in this pleasant if not weird conversation and say that I commiserate with you? My family have to do fire drills for our foster license, and once, one of my family members who shall remain nameless (Mom) decided to do it right as I had stepped into the shower and turned it on. Now, the drill (no pun intended) is that I grab my four year old sister and carry her outside to the mailbox. So, she comes into the bathroom and tells me that I have to carry her outside. (She likes bossing me around) I told her that I knew there was no fire, and that this was just a drill and that I wasn’t in a position to take her outside. She has legs; she can walk. She retorted and asked how I knew it wasn’t a real fire. I wonder where she got her sarcasm. (I promise you I haven’t been reading your posts to her.)
    There wasn’t a fire.



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