Some people think that Hell is a destination. But I'm here to tell you, it sometimes is the journey.

I've had my share of bad journeys. I lost a day of vacation a few years ago when our plane was diverted to a different airport because our pilot was "not qualified to land this plane in these conditions." (You can put "your pilot is not qualified" right near the top of the Things You Don't Want to Hear list.) And I lost another day of another vacation when my wife forgot to bring her ID to the airport, which led to a long day of making new reservations and connecting in cities that I was surprised even had airports. That wouldn't have been so bad if the airline hadn't lied when we asked if our return flight was still good. (Yes, Continental Airlines, I'm looking at you.)

But I've topped those trips… and on one where nothing went wrong.

It started when my brother-in-law invited me to go fishing with him in Mexico. He knows about my Fishing Curse; he even saw it in action one year, when I single-handedly shut down the fishing industry in Belize. (True to form, the fishing had been great, right up until the day I arrived.) But this trip would be different, he said, because where we were going everybody catches fish. (Like I never heard that before.)

So, I started looking for a flight. The best I could find would leave at 8:30 on a Sunday morning. And that's where it got interesting. Because 8:30 in Atlanta is 7:30 my time. And it's a two-hour drive to Atlanta, which meant I would have to leave at 5:30. And, since it was an international flight, I needed to arrive at the airport two hours early, meaning that I needed to leave for the airport at 3:30… on the first day of Daylight Savings Time, so it would really be 2:30.

I decided instead to cash in a favor, and stay with my friend Steve in Atlanta. I could go up on Saturday, and get a good night's sleep. Plus, his place is within walking distance of a MARTA station, so I could leave my car parked at his apartment, and save myself about 10 day's worth of exorbitant airport parking fees.

So that's what I did. On the way to Atlanta I stopped and bought a travel alarm clock; even though I was saving driving time and precious sleep time, I still had to get up early.

I met up with Steve, and he let me into the parking garage for his apartment. The entire complex is about as secure as Fort Knox; Steve needed a special computerized electronic key to open the gate to the garage, and even to operate the elevator. I knew my car would be safe while I was gone; the only downside would be that Steve would be working when I returned; he would have to leave work to let me into the garage. But, that was a downside for him, not me, so I didn't worry about it too much.

Steve went to be early, and I wasn't far behind him. I did some last-minute re-packing, and set my new travel alarm clock. Or, I tried to set it; trouble was, I couldn't find it. I realized that I had left it in the car-- the car that I couldn't get to because of the high-tech security system, and the special key that it took to get through it.

I tried to get some sleep that night, but I knew that I would never wake up in time without an alarm clock, so I didn't sleep; I just tossed and turned until it was time to get up, shower, and head to the airport. So in the end I didn't save myself any sleep at all.

Nine days later, at the end of the trip, my day started with a three-hour drive, a two-hour wait in the airport, a two-hour flight, an eight-hour layover, and a four-hour flight that would include a three-hour time change. The drive started at 9:00 a.m.; my plane landed in Atlanta at 8:00 a.m. the next day. Which meant that I was just a two-hour dive from being home, and faced the very real possibility of a 24-hour travel day.

And the fishing? As bad, or worse, than anyone had ever seen it. True to form, the fishing had been great the day before we arrived, and then it abruptly took a turn for the worse, a turn that lasted until the day we left. (Several of the locals apologized; I didn't tell them that I should be the one apologizing.) So you can add an entire country to the list of places that are affected by the Curse. Most of the places I can get to in less than a day, so I need someone to explain why I needed to travel so far -- and through Hell-- to not catch fish.

At least the squid were biting.