I’m a very forgiving person, especially at this time of the year. Here’s who and what I’m forgiving at this moment: [Read more…]
Yesterday, I had to fly to Louisville for a board meeting, just in time for the sequester cuts to start to reach airports. It took me as long to get from LaGuardia to Kentucky as it normally does to get to Merida. First, after we had boarded the plane, we learned that United’s co-pilot overslept or something, so the flight was going to be too late to meet my connection in Cleveland. Off the plane we went and back to the gate, a small basement area that was probably first designed as a holding cell for unruly passengers. An agent rebooked me on Delta, which I found had a brand new and beautifully designed terminal, and now I’m really hoping they resume their direct flights to Mérida from New York City. In the meantime, we have another Mérida trip coming up soon, via United, and I’m actually dreading the travel day.
It makes me think back to how travel has changed since 1974, the first time I flew on a plane.
1974: We leave glamorous (to a 9-year-old) Philadelphia International Airport to fly Delta to Disney World. How do I remember the airline? Because the pilot himself (who arrived on time) took the time to give me a little Delta logo pin to proudly wear on my shirt. Does that even happen anymore? I grew up in my grandmother’s house, which was kind of stuck in 1947, so I definitely remember the mod swivel chairs and burnt orange shag carpeting at
On the plane, Paul commented that already it was as though the day before, at work, was a distant memory. To me, it felt like it never even happened. But we weren’t at our destination just yet.
The journey from Connecticut to Mérida was uneventful, but still tiring and tedious. We were surprised to be so lucky to have booked planes with plenty of empty seats. No lines at LaGuardia check-in, either. The flu epidemic had not created an exodus. We caught a break, and we shouldn’t complain, but in a full day of travel, it’s those final minutes that get you. The second leg of the trip is a two-hour flight from Houston to Mérida. First, we were delayed by a late connecting flight. Later, the 737’s ascent from the rainstorm was slow and turbulent. Later, when we [Read more…]
Here’s another picture of Long Island Sound, obviously a little more recent than the one in the previous post. Since Monday, my house has been in darkness, but at least none of the trees that fell landed on us, our house, or our car.
The storm is gone, but that’s not why I’m smiling this morning. I’m smiling because I just booked our January jaunt to Mérida. We’ll be there 16 days, and it’s possible construction will have started on Casa Nana by then. The high I always get after booking myself a flight tends to last at least a day or two.
The Google maps have been updated, it seems. Although I’ve never really contemplated doing it, just for kicks I’ve sometimes asked Google for driving directions from Connecticut to Mérida. It never could complete the task. This morning, however, was able to generate a route.
Enticingly, it tells me that if I start now, I could be there in two days and nine hours. Assuming I never stop, of course. Who needs sleep when El Centro awaits?
So, let’s review the directions. First, I take a left out of the driveway…
Bla, bla, bla, I take I-95 to New York City. (It occurs to me that if I were still a New Yorker, I’d shave an hour off the trip.) I cross the George Washington Bridge to the New Jersey Turnpike, and at the Newark International Airport (where a sensible person would park and board a plane) I enter I-78, driving west into Pennsylvania. About 126 miles later, I merge into I-81 South, driving 500 miles through through Maryland, West Virginia and Virginia, then entering Tennessee. Then I drive [Read more…]
No blogger will ever write the definitive post on the Cancún-to-Mérida route. This is not my attempt to write it. But I did want to document our experience, because for all the online research I conducted to prepare for it, it wasn’t quite what I expected it to be.
We usually take Continental/United from LaGuardia to Houston, then to the Mérida airport. It’s a 12-hour haul, but we like the airline and the lively Terminal E in Houston. We even switched credit cards so we can get access to their two — two! — private lounges at the airport. So we’re not suffering, but it’s tedious, and I hate arriving in Mérida so late, around 9 or 10, with the day practically over.
So for the last trip, we decided to try the Cancún route. I was happy to spare myself the nightmare of changing planes on an international flight, in which [Read more…]