Houston, we have a problem

Until Nico can get photos of the Okura uploaded, I’ve decided to skip on over to my travel day.

Saturday, May 9
We checked out just before 7 so we could eat breakfast (included with our stay). We ate as quickly as possible as our car and luggage were brought around front. And he finally got to tip a bellman (he’d had numerous earlier chances but without tips ready).

Though we had a little trouble with TomTom, she finally got us there. Since we had gone there to pick up Steph and Shiela, we already knew Schiphol airport had wheelchairs near the entrance to the parking garage. Two elevators and a few meters later, I was checked-in and making arrangements for me to be “pushed around” through the days airports.

We had to wait around a little while for my “taxi” to arrive so Nico had a cup of coffee (he didn’t get enough at breakfast). At 9:10 a.m., I was pushed through passport check and waved bye-bye to the birthday boy.

On the way
The security people and attendants throughout my day were all great. Everyone becomes willing to help. The only bad part about getting the royal invalid treatment is no stops for shopping. For me, airport shopping has become a regular treat before leaving the low lands. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to get better (though what a lowly motivator)!

The first leg was 10 hours, one of the longest flights I’ve ever taken – literally as well as physically – though I couldn’t have had a better seat. I was in the first row aisle seat just this side of business class. I had more than enough legroom and an empty seat beside me. Since I had no energy to play video games, no more interest in the book I’d brought and can almost never sleep on planes, I watched one new release after another (four in total).

I walked every hour or so to the bathroom or the rear of the plane. Most pain I had was in my calves probably due to the seat being either too high or too low. It wasn’t long into the flight before my legs became uncomfortable but there was nothing I could do to alleviate it. Maybe next time I’ll try some squats (or just take ibruprofen).

We were a little late arriving into Houston but made it in plenty of time for my connector as we sat on the tarmac for 2 hours waiting for one of the pilots to arrive. Funny enough, I was seated next to a man who’d broken the ankle of his right foot - what a perfect pair. We filled the time talking mostly about his long life adventures and how much he was looking forward to his wife’s pork and sour kraut when he got home. He reminded me of my dad but with a few more wrinkles and smelly breath.

Finally, arrival
In Saint Louis, Mom and Dad were waiting near baggage claim. And so was my plane pal’s wife. Figures.

As the baggage wheel turned, we found my Nordic sticks missing – the tube had gotten misplaced somewhere in Houston. But the next afternoon, they showed up at Williamson County airport, a short drive from here.

We stopped on the way to Marion at Cracker Barrel where I had the veggie plate – fried okra, hashbrown casserole, dumplings and carrots. It took a while to get the food but it was worth it. Yum!

I could’ve slept all the way from there to home but, for some reason between politeness and passenger protocol, I felt the need to stay awake as long I was sitting up front.

When we got into Marion, an eerie sight lay before us – the city was completely dark. Except for familiarity and car headlights, we would have missed our exit. The fire department had generators with lights illuminating some of the main intersections and overall the city was under curfew. Home was equally dark which didn’t bother me as all I wanted was sleep. So, I did.

Tomorrow…
If Nico gets photos uploaded, Okura. If not, Mother’s Day! Good to hear from you and thanks for keeping in touch!