I am once more writing to you from the blissful Mediterranean shores of Malta, and words cannot express how pleased I am about it.
The first foreign adventure of 2011 could not possibly have begun in a more adventurous manner...
Having spent the month of March soaking up the culture of Miami (such as it is) Jon and I and our newest partner-in-traveling-crime, Jocelyn, were scheduled to depart from the Miami airport at 4:20pm on Friday, April 1st, 2011. But like all great travel stories, this tale begins with a day that didn't go exactly to plan. Like the responsible, mature adults that we are, Jocelyn and I spent the night before the trip packing and tidying up our American affairs - Jon, on the other hand, spent the evening out and about, willfully ignoring my suggestion that it might be more prudent to treat the second to last day in Miami as the finale celebration, thereby allowing ourselves to have the final night to prepare and a morning free of stress.
Jon decided not to listen to me. You'd think, after 4+ years together, that he would know better... ;) But he choose to disregard my advice and the results were, of course, disastrous.
By noon, Jocelyn and I were ready to drop a package off at the post office and head to the airport for our flight. By noon, Jon was running around like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off. He'd awakened later than he'd expected (but not later than I - in my infinite wisdom - had expected), and proceeded to frantically pack his bag for the trip and pack up the rest of his life so that he could vacate his office. I ended up with the highly desirable job of standing by the car, in the pouring rain, while Jon and Jocelyn loaded it at a pace that can only be described as geriatric. What's better than a transatlantic flight? A transatlantic flight endured while damp. Needless to say, I'd had happier moments than that particular afternoon...
Jon finally left for the storage unit, leaving Jocelyn and I with the tasks of cleaning out the rest of his office and mailing a package to Australia for him. We dashed back into the office, packed all the remaining things up, and ran outside to find a cab to take us to the post office. The post office was, of course, an utter mess. We had to wait in line, fill out tons of forms, and redo one of the packages because the woman who helped us prepare it gave us the wrong instructions. I'll spare you the rest of the tedious details, and simply say that we wrapped up our business at the P.O. eventually, and rushed back outside to find another cab. It took us longer than we wanted to find it, but the universe blessed us with the perfect cab driver - he allowed both of us, once we'd arrived at the office, to run upstairs to grab our things without any kind of a guarantee of a fare. When we returned downstairs, he was still waiting for us with the trunk open and ready for our luggage. As he sped off towards the airport, I received the text I'd been dreading from Jon:
"Won't make it. Have a safe flight. I love you."
Though quite possibly more stressed than I have ever been in my life, Jocelyn and I pulled up to the airport with 8 minutes to spare. We tipped the driver handsomely, grabbed our things, and ran inside...
...in the wrong direction.
Fortunately we realized our mistake fairly quickly, and were given "Fast Track" stickers with our boarding passes that allowed us to skip to the front of the security line. We passed through without a hitch, and arrived at our gate before boarding began.
Crisis - just barely - averted.
...in the wrong direction.
Fortunately we realized our mistake fairly quickly, and were given "Fast Track" stickers with our boarding passes that allowed us to skip to the front of the security line. We passed through without a hitch, and arrived at our gate before boarding began.
Crisis - just barely - averted.
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