Our driver arrived before our luggage made it out of the
room. For once, not my fault. I prefer to laugh inwardly when I see hotel
management making frantic hand signals at lethargic workers. Shannon had chosen
to sit by the bird feeder while waiting for our transport to the airport. A rather
wise decision considering our hectic flight back. Our driver person pointed out
the sloth in the parking lot. We could barely see him thru the foliage, but I think
I got a good picture or two. I have always wanted to see a sloth, to see the
animal whose innate nature we are not to imitate.
The same wheelchair attendant who had given us VIP treatment
on the way into panama met us as the ticket counter. I looked straight at him
and told him how happy I was to see him. We had an extra bag at this point, not
including the mask carefully wrapped up and held by Shannon. The coffee and
cinnabon eaten at the gate is probably the last of the vacation. I had thrown
away my sneakers which had decided to rot instead of dry so I was in sandals. I
did manage to buy rum at the duty free store. I like rum. On an amusing note,
it later took a friend and I 30 mins to figure out how to get the rum out of
the bottle. The key is turning it completely upside-down and shaking slightly. I
have never had to work so hard for my drink.
In Houston, we had 1 hour to get on our next flight. This included
getting our bags, going thru customs, dropping them off again, and going thru
security. If you need a wheelchair, do not ever fly thru Houston. The airport
has 4 dif wheelchair companies each with their own section of your travel and
each not allowed to overstep onto another’s territory. Completely retarded way
to run this sort of service. We just made the second flight. The one helpful
attendant asked us what the hardest part of international traveling was, the food,
the traffic, what? My response – US security, hands down.
My parents met us at the airport. So good to see them again,
esp. after the return flight. Oh, and the airline had lost Shannon’s broken
walker by the time we arrived in seattle. Oi. Home, finally, at 11:30 at night,
we got home. And just in time for Christmas rush. Yay…
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