It had been conceived during the holidays and grew to reality over the next few months. I had stopped over my friend Rosemarie’s house to drop off a gift and during our conversation, she mentioned that she was going to Barcelona in April.
“You should come,” she told me.
I thought about it for a minute. “Okay,” I replied. Having just come off of my Border-to-Border New Hampshire walk, I was game for more adventure. (Note – it’s a heck of a lot easier to travel when your kids are older.)
What followed was a lot of planning, some shifting of schedules, obsessing about what to pack (at least I didn’t have to worry about bears), and meetings over beer(s) where we’d each pour over our guidebooks and pick out places that we wanted to see and visit.
The day came to leave. After finally saying “Frig it, it I don’t have it, I’ll buy it over there,” I was packed and ready to go. Rosemarie picked me up at 10 am and we drove to the bus station in order to take our first flight.
The weather was rainy and foggy, conditions which threaten our next connection in New Jersey but because the Gods decided to smile on us, (and because Rosemarie is ADAMANT about getting to transportation centers early) we were able to get on an earlier flight (turned out that if we had stayed on our original flight we would have missed our connection – so yeah on Rosemarie.)
Even with being booked on an earlier flight, we still had time before we needed to board the plane. What does one do in an airport with extra time?
BLOODY MARY(s)!
One, two drinks (along with a veritable salad served as drink garnishes) and we were ready to go. We got on the short flight to New Jersey.
Of course, even with this earlier flight being delayed, we were still early. What does one do again in an airport with extra time?
MORE BLOODY MARY(s)!! (why not, we weren’t driving the plane.)
Of course there is always a logical consequence of drinking alcohol, but who cares! We were on a great adventure!
Our next step in the journey was boarding the plane that would take us across the ocean. It was this very one seen standing in the rain, which would transport us from cold and drizzly New England to bright and sunny Spain.
Was I nervous about flying in storm conditions?
Not at all, why? Because BLOODY MARY(s)!!
We finally got on the plane, took off, and for the first part of our flight, this is what I saw.
After a short while the view was this.
Rosemarie managed to sleep. Like a baby.
I didn’t. Not one wink. But who cared, tomorrow we would land in a place I had never stepped foot in before. That was certainly worth all the tossing and turning any maddeningly long flight could ever throw at me.
***
Wendy Thomas writes about the lessons learned while raising children and chickens in New Hampshire. Contact her at [email protected]
Also, join me on Facebook to find out more about the flock (children and chickens) and see some pretty funny chicken jokes, photos of tiny houses, and even a recipe or two.
Like what you read here? Consider subscribing to this blog so that you’ll never miss a post. And feel free to share with those who may need a little chicken love.
Advertisements
