random thoughts – Day 1,662 – (Saturday) – home again

The travel days are probably the worst days of a vacation. There is the rushing to and then and waiting around in queues for shuttles and in the airport, and the crowds. After landing, there is the waiting for baggage, which felt especially long at Logan today. Then there was a wait for the Logan Express bus to Woburn, which wasn’t too bad, and the ride home, which was also not bad.

Today’s 14-hour travel day began at 6:00 a.m. to finish off the packing with the pajamas worn Friday night and the toiletries used this morning, and confirm the screenshots of the digital documents because wi-fi is often spotty or not always available. 

The bags were scheduled to be picked up and brought to the lobby at 7:00, followed by breakfast at the buffet restaurant off the lobby, where I finally scored some of the French toast I wanted on Friday but couldn't get to. There was time for a quick stop back at the room for a final check and to use the bathroom before checking out and boarding the shuttle to the airport to arrive the recommended three hours before the 12:40 pm flight time.

The Cancun airport is nice – clean, modern, and filled with shops and food places. The check-in and bag drop were quick, which left lots of time to leave some more money in Mexico. I’m sure this is by design.

My final financial contribution to the Cancun-area economy was the purchase of a $17 veggie burrito filled with rice, beans, roasted peppers, guacamole, salsa, corn, and hot sauce. I was already getting hungry and knew there wouldn't be much available o eat on the plane. On the walk from the food court back to the gate, the burrito felt heavy enough to qualify for a weight lifting program. It was fresh and delicious and the second breakfast/early-ish lunch was devoured at the gate. Now I’ll spend the rest of forever trying to find another one just as good and closer to home. 

My friend bought an adorable Mexican blanket coat for her dog at a shop with nothing but pet tee shirts, dresses, coats, and collars, but I was pretty sure Kiki would have no part of such garments. She got her regular, everyday treats when I arrived home.

I was cold in the airport, then cold on the plane. A friend’s fleece jacket became the lap blanket that helped me endure the flight. The airline "snack," presented as if it was a gourmet meal, was a bag of plantain chips, which are delicious but not substantial and I was glad to have had the burrito earlier. 

I felt less cold at the Logan Express lot in Woburn than on the plane, but the best part of being in my car was blasting the heater. I miss the Mexican heat and humidity, even though my hair looked like a tumbleweed most of the week.

Not so many souvenirs.

Finally home at around 8:00, after the journey by van, plane, bus, and car, there were greetings to Kiki, and the suitcase was abandoned in the kitchen, right outside the laundry closet. Kiki was very vocal, and I couldn’t tell if she was happy to see me or was delivery a lecture. My friend checked on her a couple times while I was away, so I knew her food and water had been taken care of, and new treats had been planted, but I wondered how she would be feeling.

The clothes went straight from the suitcase into the washer. Hot laundry, fresh from the dryer, was folded on the couch. The few souvenirs were liberated from the gift shop brown paper that the clerks had taped securely for packing. It seemed to be norm across shops to use generous amounts of packing paper and excessive amounts of tape.

Kiki is watching me closely.

The laundry and tchotchke unwrapping was done under the very watchful eye of Kiki. Sometimes she was observing from the dining room, sometimes from very nearby in the living room, but her gaze was constant. Maybe she was taking inventory of the few items brought back, some of which are intended as gifts.

Kiki approached for head rubs every few minutes. I dare say she may have missed me. Maybe she’ll let me pick her up, but I'm afraid to press my luck with that.