Spacious Skies

We arrived in Tampa safe and sound last night, tired from the trip and the persistent crowds but otherwise fine. We flew out of Gatwick on British Airways, taking the direct flight that I always like. But this time, checking in was a nightmare. We were at the airport the recommended three hours ahead of time, and we spent an hour and a half standing in the check-in line. It was huge to begin with, but then the BA staff kept calling people up for flights that were leaving sooner than ours, so over and over again we were bypassed by hordes of people behind us who basically didn't give themselves enough time. As I told the woman standing in front of us -- who was equally punctual and thus equally punished -- "I'm just going to show up an hour later next time!"

And the ticket agent had to jump through hoops to find us both seats because by the time we got to the counter we were so freaking late and the plane was oversold. (Normally we check in online in advance, but I confess I completely forgot. Won't make that mistake again!)

Somehow we got seats -- Dave even got an exit row, though he said it wasn't particularly comfortable -- and here we are. I spent the flight reading -- two New Yorkers, a BBC "Gardener's World" magazine and the rest of "The Wager," which I really liked.

Once in Florida, we disembarked from the plane, breezed through passport control, baggage claim and customs, and said hello to Phoebe the flamingo. (Obviously that's not me in the picture. Phoebe is besieged by a steady stream of photo-posers and selfie-takers.)

We then went to pick up our rental car, which turned into another massive delay because of course the people in front of us had some problem with their car reservation, which the counter agent was apparently unable to solve to their satisfaction. A manager was called, there was much strenuous explanation of policies and procedures blah blah blah, the customers had to get on the phone to a travel agent of some kind, there were furrowed brows and shaking heads. We were finally called to an adjacent counter (after a 30-minute wait) and when we departed a short time later with our key fob, they were still there, trying to get to Disney World.

Speaking of which, there was lots of Disney swag on our plane -- t-shirts, bags, stuffed Mickeys and Minnies. The man in front of me was wearing a Disney-branded elastic headband securing his sunglasses to his head (yes, even on the plane). You could tell these were all people who had already visited the Happiest Place on Earth and were going back for another round. Other British schools must also be on break now -- in any case, there were a million kids.

We got on the road, cruised down the smooth, wide highways through St. Petersburg and across the Sunshine Skyway Bridge to Bradenton. I had to pay the bridge toll ($1.75) in cash, and all I had was a $50 bill that Dave's parents sent me for my birthday last year. "This is all I have, I'm sorry," I said to the toll-taker when I handed it to him. "Well, what if I don't have the change?" he said, with a half-grin. "I don't know!" I responded, but I could tell he did in fact have it, thank God, and we were on our way again.

We got to Dave's parents' place in Bradenton and sat up with his sister Dawn, de-briefing about their recent move to assisted living and all the tasks involved. Today we're moving some furniture and other stuff to their new place at Discovery Village, which Dawn has branded "DV" for short.

I was up at 4:20 a.m. this morning (in England it was 9:20 a.m., so I actually overslept!) and had to run out to find coffee because the coffee machine here has apparently already made the move to DV. Fortunately there's a big Ed Ruscha-worthy gas station with an attached 7-Eleven just a mile or two down the road. The hot, fresh coffee gushed out of the urn like a brown waterfall and here I am, back in the land of plenty.