Travelogue, Part the Second

Fun times on the beach.

The Google Blogger software is eating this post worse than the food we were consuming in mass quantities on our just completed trip. I don't even remember what my intro was, other than to say that we spent several days in Yachats, Oregon, and then drove back to Oakland to fly home. We got the Cliff's Notes tour of San Francisco, including lunch at the Wharf. Here is what remains of my post, I know not where the rest went. . .

Friends we were traveling with were expert "foodies," so the eating was a large part of the trip. We ate in great restaurants, and had one incredible home-cooked meal. The six of us have been travel buddies many times in the past, so it was quite an interesting adventure to visit two of them, now ensconced in a tourist destination of their own, separate and apart from Las Vegas.

Homemade grilled peaches with prosciutto!

It will not be possible to encapsulate the trip, its pleasures and its warm memories in this post. Particularly not in the waning hours before returning to work on Tuesday morning. Let it suffice to say that a great time was had by all. And though we spent a small fortune between us, we are now eagerly starting travel funds to do it all again!

The "Gone Fishin'" banner will remain until Tuesday evening, to allow me until then to recharge and start blogging again. Until then, as you were!

See you soon. And thanks to my friends for a wonderful experience.

See what I mean about the diet?

Travelogue, Part the First

As I sit here typing this post, it is just past midnight, and our second day of vacation has wrapped. And--since I'm typing this--it is evident that I did not over-imbibe, regardless of what you may have heard. Our first day was spent flying to the San Francisco bay area, followed by immediately securing a car, for our drive to Yachats, Oregon. Everything went according to plan, except for the abysmal seating comfort (or rather, discomfort) afforded by the 2012 Chevrolet Impala. Simply dreadful. I can only hope that General Motors has improved things in the new model.

We made excellent time on our nearly 600 mile drive, and other than butt-hurt from the Chevy, we arrived tired, but in good spirits. Our wonderful hosts--dear friends transplanted from Las Vegas last spring--have entertained us since we arrived. We've walked several miles along the coast, took a drive to nearby towns, were treated to a fabulous meal at the Drift Inn (seriously, go there), and enjoyed some libations and conversation here at our incredible rental home. All-in-all, it has been a top-tier vacation, and we have days yet to go!

If you've never been to the Pacific Northwest, pencil it in. You'll have a great time, and see a lot of nature's beauty that you won't find elsewhere. But it helps to have friends to show you the way. 

Back to Vegas: Travelogue, Part the Fourth

Here I sit at Port Columbus International Airport (clever name, eh), with quite a bit of time left to kill before my flight. But with 19-degree weather, a bunch of snow on the ground, and much more falling, and a rental car to return, leaving early was a must. My stomach flu is mostly gone, though there are some rumblings of thunder down under to worry about.

At security, I had to first go through the naked porno scanner (arms up! everything out of your pockets?), then the pat-down (we meant everything. Yes, that includes Chap-Stick, tissue and paper money, not just metal!). But there was little to no line, so whatever. If they get their jollies passing around x-rays of this body, more power to 'em.

My appetite has returned, so I got a Chili's-to-Go chicken sammich and a Gatorade (to replenish) for $12 or something, and settled down and a pretty nifty Southwest computer counter. Nice touch that! So, short of a preemptive bathroom run, and maybe another Gatorade to take on the plane, I'm good to go, headed back to balmy (by comparison) Las Vegas!

Many thanks to my good friend Stupid Monkey Planet for filling in. It's good stuff, and this blog can always use a fresh perspective. Not sure how much if anything I'll get posted this evening, but I'll be back on Tuesday for sure.

Travelogue, Part the Third: I've Killed My Parents?

What a trip so far!

First day: arrival and pizza, plus helped prep for the big party..

Second day: picked up The Other Half, helped prep the manse for the big party.

Third day: sickest day of my life. The Other Half works in my stead. Big pizza & beer night w/family sadly spoiled.

Fourth day: sickness continued, party ensued anyway.

Fifth day: Rain turned to snow, briefly to blizzard. Had to take The Other Half to the airport in the worst of it. Sickness abated simultaneously--thank goodness--but I had to resurrect my "driving in snow" skills from 1-1/2 decades ago. Drank a quart of Gatorade, and suddenly feel just fine. Arrive at parents' house after hours driving in snow to find. . .

My parents have the same illness I just climbed out of! Both are solidly down for the count, as is my sister. I have a very small family, but seem to have taken three of them out. Oy. Only one day to go!

Travelogue, Part the Third

There are probably only a handful of people--if any--who read part one and two of my little travelogues of my trip back to Ohio. But I still wanted to finish the series, detailing the travel aspect of my trip back home for Easter. The trip itself was fine, with much fun and kinship with my 2,000-miles away family. The getting there, and the getting back? Not so much.

My story actually starts back a few days, when I realized I'd need a larger bag for my trip back. At $15 a pop for checked baggage, I thought it best to just take one. Mom had a better solution, a bag large enough to hold my current suitcase. As luck would have it, we were attending an auction together, and Mom got me a great TravelPro bag for $10. While shuffling some contents shortly before I had to go to the airport (in the rain), I even discovered that the bag was expandable. Very cool.

My brother took me to the airport, and I discovered as we were driving that we share a tendency to lack navigation skills while in conversation. After two missed turns, we arrived at the airport. I needn't have worried though, since our plane was half and hour late due to a mechanical. So, I sat at the airport from 4:15 to about 6:30. No big deal. Sitting in an airport is more fun than sitting on a plane.

The pilot's name on my flight from Columbus to Dallas was Captain Downing which did not inspire confidence. After he promised a bumpy ride, but delivered a smooth one, I settled down a bit. I read, and dozed, and read and dozed. There was of course a screaming baby. Eventually we landed in DFW. Even with the delay, I had plenty of time to get from the C concourse to the D, which is on the opposite side of the very large airport. Dallas has a great tram service that zips you from gate to gate, so there isn't a massive amount of walking involved.

After milling about my gate for a while, I wandered around, grabbed an iced tea, and then went back to discover that my gate had changed back to the C concourse! Back onto the tram, all the way to the other side again. By this time, I only had to wait about half an hour until we boarded. Another screaming baby. We took off for Las Vegas.

This flight was fairly uneventful, though it felt like it took much longer than it should have. It had been a long day. So I was thrilled when the pilot (possibly Captain Falling?) told us we'd be landing ten minutes early. Great! Except that there was a plane stuck at our gate. Captain not-Falling told us it would be ten minutes. It was half an hour. Sitting on the runway, really having to pee. Why couldn't they change our gate, like they did in Dallas? Anyway, my travel day started at 4:00 pm EDST and ended at about 11:30 PDST. Ten and a half hours!

Much of this was annoying, and could have been avoided with a costlier non-stop flight. I will remember this next time, and try to plan further ahead.

Travelogue, Part the Second

Photo from airfarewatchdog.com

I've been in Ohio for two days now, and have just had the opportunity to check in. I'm glad to see that Stupid Monkey Planet had the opportunity to stop by as well, and that my "time release" blog posts are showing up as planned.

Since I haven't been paying attention to the news, I have nothing of substance to add at this juncture. But I thought it might be a good opportunity to recap my all-night travel "day" on the way to the heart of Ohio.

It started well. My friend Dona's brother picked me up as scheduled and delivered me to the airport with no problems. I breezed through security, and landed at my gate with much time to spare. How much time that would grow into, I would have no idea. At around 10:30 pm, an announcement was made that our flight crew was late. There were problems in San Francisco, and they would not be arriving for quite some time. Though the plane was due to take off at 10:57, we would not be boarding until 11:25!

I never heard them call my "zone," so I just got in line as it dwindled down, and took my seat (16A, a window seat, though I had "reserved" an aisle) at about 11:30 pm. For the next half hour, we sat there with no air conditioning. If it was any cooler than 95 degrees, I'd be shocked. And a screaming baby two rows behind me began his song. Finally, at midnight, the air started to blow, and it was announced that we had a pilot!

We eventually took off at around 12:15 am, headed for Charlotte, where I had originally been scheduled for an hour and a half layover. I dozed a bit, woke a bit, dozed a bit. At around 6:00 am or so, I awoke (presumably over Tennessee) to witness a spectacular lightning storm. We were above a cottony layer of clouds, with bursts of lighting popping around my entire field of vision below me. All the way to the horizon, and as far as I could see east and west, strobes were going off in a fashion I've never witnessed before in my life. I was glad I woke up to see it.

We landed in Charlotte at 7:10 or so, and the crew asked for the help of Charlotte-bound passengers to please stay seated, so that those of us with connecting flights could be allowed to make our schedules. They did not comply. The ninety or so people in front of me took their usual, frustrating, maddeningly slow time getting their things, and moving out of the plane. At the gate, I was informed that I needed to get to gate E-3. . .and I was at B-something.

I ran/power-walked the entire distance, and barely made it to the gate. After struggling with an incomprehensible (and slightly hostile) gate agent, I finally got on board, onto a little tiny express plane, and had seats A-1 and A-2 to myself! Other than spending the flight debating the gender of my flight attendant, the rest of the trip went smoothly.

I am certain that I've had a similar experience in Charlotte previously. In fact, during my trek from the B to the E concourse, I had sort of a deja vu of having had deja vu before of the exact event. So it is possible that everyone who lands in the B concourse in Charlotte has to run to the E concourse to make their flight on time. Avoid Charlotte, just to be safe!

Travelogue, Part the First

Image from Getaway Grand Vacations

I'm sitting at the Las Vegas McCarran airport, awaiting departure back to Ohio. I'm pleasantly surprised how easy it was to get online here. Didn't bother to find an outlet, since I don't plan to be online for long.

I'd hoped to meet The Other Half, who is coincidentally returning from a flight right about now. But the airport is a BIG place, and security is a pain in the neck, so I guess I'll just have to skip that.

Security wasn't too bad. By now, I'm planning ahead more than I used to. All of my electronics and cords and things are in individual baggies. I brought a big baggie to deposit my belt, wedding ring, watch, phone and all other metal "BEEP!" items. I still never have enough hands for my shoes, jacket, boarding pass, computer bag and computer. And I don't like walking around in sock feet on carpet where millions of others have also walked around in sock feet. I'll never get over the fact that people have to take their flip-flops off. . .or that they'd actually wear flip-flops on a plane.

So, I sit and wait. The bing, bong, bloop, Wheel! Of! Fortune! sounds of the slot machines ring in the air, with Vegas travellers who just quite didn't get their fix yet. My next post will probably be either well after I land, or if I get bored between flights, from Charlotte, North Carolina. Goodbye Las Vegas! See you soon.