We arrived in Myrtle Beach around 3 o'clock on Sunday afternoon, along with everyone else on the entire beach. Seriously, the hotel was crammed full of people trying to check in, and finding an empty luggage cart was like hunting. We had to lie in wait for an unsuspecting traveler and swoop in before someone else got to the kill, I mean cart, before we did.
Once we checked in, unpacked, and surveyed the land, we headed out to the beach. Or, actually, we started out at the pool and the kiddie water attraction.
The kids got busy doing what all kids do at the beach - getting their swimsuits full of sand.
Shawn took this one, so that we could get a shot of the hotel itself. You can see what I mean about all the people.
One of the absolute highlights of the trip was our trip to The Dixie Stampede. Shawn and I have been to the same attraction in Gatlinburg, and we thought the kids would really enjoy it. I mean, really, is anything better than watching horses, faux cowboys, pigs and chickens all while eating a pile of food with only your hands?
It was great, and to commemorate the event, Grandma bought the kids a souvenir. Yeehaw!
And then the next morning, we woke up and went back to the beach.
This is one pooped little pal.
And the next day, back at the beach.
The bum parade.
And, the next day, again, back to the beach. Our last day, Claire had to wear a rash guard because her chest broke out in an itchy sun rash. Of course, she picks the one with a huge Myrtle Beach on the front. It was pink, that's all that mattered to her.
And no trip to the beach is complete without a visit to the local ice cream parlor right next door to the amusement park.
Or, maybe I should say that no trip to the beach is complete without at least one child getting incredibly upset over absolutely nothing.
All in all, it was a good trip. Like any vacation with small children, however, we were ready to go home at the end. The sleeping in one room thing never really works very well, and I, for one, was really tired of chewing sand.
I do think we'll be visiting a different beach next summer. The crowds were just a bit much for us, and, to make matters worse (and really, truly test the limits of Shawn's patience to which there really is an end), we sat in traffic for about three hours to travel the 30 minutes out of Myrtle Beach. Not fun.
So, till next time beach.