The planning of this trip actually encompassed several years. Work, family, and many other distractions kept pushing this trip off to a definite date of “some other time”. The general goal of the trip was to spend some leisure time in the south of France. Maybe soak up some of these famous rays at the Cote d’Azur. Bubba pointed out that Spider and I would stand out like sore thumbs on the beaches of St. Tropez, Nice, or Monaco and insisted that he must go with us as he would be the only one of us who would fit in with the rich and famous.
From France we planned to head to Italy. Perhaps we would work our way down the Mediterranean coast before turning inland to catch Pisa and Florence. Turning north again we could hit Venice, the Lake Como region, and Milan. We would start and end the trip in Paris.
The big day finally arrived and we headed off to catch our flight. Bubba is not a fan of flying. He says he gets claustrophobic in small places like plane cabins. He can be a real pain in an airport. As we were looking at the departure board for our flight, Bubba jumped up and claimed our flight was out of service and we would not be leaving.
I pointed out that it was the sign that was out of service not the flight and showed him our first leg, to Chicago, was on the board.
On a previous trip with my parents (yet another story), we flew to the east coast and spent the night before proceeding on to Amsterdam. We did this to break up the 12 hour flight so my parents would not get overly tired. What we found out was that it had an immensely positive effect on jet lag. The one day rest kept us from arriving like the sleep deprived zombies we were. It was decided to repeat this path so we would stop in Newark New Jersey via Chicago before heading on to Paris.
We flew Southwest which meant we had dependable, on time service. They don’t charge for baggage either. Spider and I were doing this trip with only carry on bags but Bubba had two bags he said he needed to check.
We arrived in Newark intact except for Bubba’s bags. It could be that they were lost enroute, it could be that they were never put on board in San Francisco, and it could be that they were forgotten in the trunk of the car after he proclaimed that we would have to lug his stuff for him as he had fragile arms that are prone to fall off.
We checked into the hotel where Bubba, feeling the effects of a long flight, had a little temper tantrum. He objected to finding only two sets of towels for the three of us in the room. I volunteered to share my washcloth but he would not have it. He stormed down to the front desk to make his complaint.
The nice receptionist listened to his complaint and cheerfully accommodated his request.