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"You deserve a medal," whispered the American Airlines flight attendant. She gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, glanced at the screaming toddler next to me and continued down the aisle, away from the ruckus in Row 22. I have never traveled with a toddler under my care on a cross-country flight, but I now feel fully qualified after this six hour-flight from San Francisco, California, to Miami, Florida. This little fellow with the robust vocal cords had a doting support staff of three: mom plus two grandparents catering to his every whim. I tuned out much of the family frenzy by listening to my Ipod (grateful I decided to bring it!).
I am enjoying my hour layover in Miami - though clearly I'm not dressed properly for Rio - many of the women here at the gate are wearing tight, "skinny" jeans, spike heels, plunging necklines and have manes of luscious, long hair.
Next up: fly from Miami to Rio, then Rio to Florianopolis, where I will meet my whale watching tour group at the airport. I may be a little out of it by my arrival time of noon Sunday.
NOTE TO PROCRASTINATORS: Packing this morning, an hour before I left, was not such a hot idea - turned out that clothing/gear for an 11-day mountain bike trip at elevation of 8,000-14,000 feet, business clothes for conference and clothing for the tropics did not fit in my new 4,0000 cubic inch wheeled luggage from Patagonia store. So I have an "overflow" bag ....
Thanks, Luke, for all your tech support, and Jec, for the ride to the airport today.
What do you think is the WORST scenario for a six-hour flight:
a. Sitting squashed next to a generously-sized person
b. Being in close earshot of a screaming baby
c. Having an over-talkative seatmate
Ciao for now!