A ship, a bus, two planes
and a car. The last one being driven by George who picked me up at the Oakland Airport and brought me home.
For those of you who have never done it, let me just say that I don’t think anyone enjoys departure day off a ship. It normally means arising early, dealing with breakfast in jammed venues then the start of a series of “hurry up and wait.” In the case of a ship docking anywhere that one needs to clear immigration, you have to add in that extra line between picking up luggage and exiting the port terminal. Follow that bit of crowding and chaos with a trip to the airport on a bus with a driver who thinks he has a bus load from Carnival and can’t figure out why we all don’t laugh at his jokes.
Airports involve endless lines at security even when one magically seems to be on the Pre Check list, waiting at gates, cramming into planes with people who don’t want to check anything even when it is free, running to one’s connecting flight and being at the end of boarding rather than the beginning.
But I made it home safe and sound. My luggage even arrived on the same flight. I’m even pretty much unpacked with a load in the washing machine. But I am out of energy, and my body is telling me it has been up for 20 hours so it is safe to say I should probably say good night.
