This will be a quickie since I just arrived at the hotel in Phoenix and need to get to a reception in thirty minutes. Why does it take more time to go from Dulles to Phoenix then it does to go from Dulles to Paris??? Connections, that is the answer. You can’t go from Dulles to Phoenix non-stop and still arrive in time to attend the reception. I had to fly to Denver, wait ninety minutes and then the short hop to Phoenix. Total travel time: eight hours! I should be speaking and eating French.
The first leg of the flight was excruciating. Seated behind me were three Somalis, a mother, daughter, and huge three year old. The kid will no doubt be well known in Somalia in twenty years. Based on his ability to kick my seat with great speed, force, and duration, I have no doubt but that he will captain the Somali Football team. My repeated efforts to ask the mother to contain the child fell on deaf ears since neither mother nor daughter spoke English, French, Spanish, Italian, or German. Yes, I tried them all much to the amusement of the flight attendant. After two hours the trio fell asleep and I was able to drink water without getting it all over my shirt and pants.
Needless to say, I was in coach and somehow my seat had gotten changed and I was trapped on the window. The second flight was only an hour and fifteen and it was a breeze, arriving a bit early and the hotel is only about fifteen minutes from the airport. I stepped out of the airport and was hit like a brick with 106-degree weather. Again, after Bahrain, I promised myself I’d never complain about heat, but I was tempted.
I’ve four more nights in the USA, four different hotels, in three different cities. Boy, do I know how to have fun or what.
Ok, got to run and get cleaned up and ready for the reception. More tomorrow when I’ll have a bit more time. As they say in Phoenix, adios amigos. Wm
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