We arrived in Miami after the 10 pm curfew, so hungry dreams of Cuban takeout turned into a hotel convenience store Lean Cuisine, and a faceplant into the soft American bed.
Chef had found us a way to get back to Bozeman Saturday night but it meant an early start.
I was too tired to protest as he set my alarm for 4 am. And apparently failed to mention that my alarm ringtone was set to the vacationing sounds of kittens purring. Oops.
“Get up, we slept until 5!” Chef dispatched. Incredibly, we got a Lyft to the airport and checked our bags by 5:30 am. I think we’re developing a knack for emergency travel tactics.
Get home, you freaks! I hear some of you saying. I know, I know. But here’s the deal, our route home would make one believe that I am giving directions and perhaps in Spanish. From Miami to Newark, NJ (whose WeeFee I’m currently poaching) to —wait for it — Orlando. Yes, as in Florida. I understand that is where Miami is! Ok, then to Denver, sweet Westward Ho, and back to Bozeman, where the Adventure started on March 4, 2020 BC Before Corona.
I have come to realize that travel is a fluid situation, and of course these are exceptionally uncertain times. So when the United flight attendant offered me Oreos at 7:30 am, I said, “yes, please.”
So I’ve got to go and be in a glucose coma now (or maybe I’m just sleepy).
Oh, one last thing…my worries about Eastern Airlines? Completely unfounded! When you find yourself in a real-live no-shit emergency, the last thing you want is your rescue airline to be goofing around with technology. You want some paper ticket writing, WWII bomber flying, visual flight rule piloting old school badasses airlifting your sorry stranded self off the Southern Hemisphere. Of course, I’m trolling for sponsors. Thanks for reminding me, Lurlynn!
Now, I’ve got an hour of connectedness to see what’s happening in the world. Maybe I’ll check in on the stock market…..
And we’ll get back together in Episode 16.