Started out this morning at 7 AM after finally getting to my
hotel around 1:30. The wakening time wasn’t my choice, it was brought about by
hammering and sawing noises from the floor below. Turns out I was the ONLY
person staying at that hotel last night. I should have expected something like
that when my cab driver and I had to bang on the gate and honk the horn for 5
minutes to wake up the guard to let me in when we arrived in the wee small
hours. This hotel is a conference center hotel up in the mountains about 45
minutes and 70 USd from the airport.
This morning it took running the water about 10 minutes to
get it warm enough to take a shower. Probably a good sign that there weren’t
many people staying at this place. But in my stupor I was clueless. It finally
became apparent when I got to the dining room and no one else was there. The
yet-untouched buffet breakfast turned out to be cold scrambled eggs and cold
bacon, but the coffee & toast were good.
On the way back up to my room, the elevator suddenly stopped
between the 2nd and 3rd floors. I rang the alarm bell and
yelled for help for 15 minutes before anyone bothered to check on my
disturbances. A guy came and finally pried the doors open from the floor below.
I had to slide down and out into his arms as he helped lower me to the 2nd
floor. That was probably more of a workout than he was expecting.
Back in my room I emailed Anne & Christine to check if
they were able to send off my cell phone to Grenada by Fedex, and to bring them
up to speed on my whereabouts and tribulations. I included a plea to get me the
hell out of here.
The hotel called a local cab to take me to the airport. It
turned out Cynthia-who-likes-to-sing, as I called her was a fun driver. She
told me there are a couple hotels right near the airport where I could have
stayed, but the booking service “likes to send unsuspecting rich Americans like
me” to the hotel where I was. She’s pretty sure there’s some sort of family
connection or nefarious goings on there. But she’s happy cause she gets cab
business from the hotel since she lives near it. The return trip took almost an
hour since you understand, unlike my trip to the hotel at 1 AM, there was now
traffic to contend with.
So when I get to the airport at 11 AM I find out there is
only one flight to Grenada & that’s at 9 PM, assuming we don’t have a
hurricane come through beforehand. SOOoo I check in and resign myself to sit
out the 10 hours, only to discover that there is not one, mind you, NOT
ONE bookshop in the whole dammed terminal. I’ve already read the two
books I bought yesterday at the Raleigh airport, so now the only thing I get to
do is to use the one working tool I have, my laptop, to share and torture y’all.
The dammed terminal is freezing! So much so that I have to
don a long sleeved shirt and long pants to stay warm. I finally get a reply
email from Anne telling me she’s tried to ship my cell phone to Grenada by
Fedex only to find they deliver there. So she’s shipped it off by International
mail but to Grenada the fastest service is between 3 & 5 working days, so
it may arrive after I leave for home next week. Of course!
Along about now I find an email from Christine. My therapist
daughter tells me I have to surrender to being helpless and vulnerable rather
than upset and maddened. She says that will flip the universe to support me in
my travels rather than punishing me as it has been doing. AND, Oh by-the-way, she
says she charges 90 bucks for this kind of therapeutic coaching, thank you.
Ok, ok. I surrender!
Shortly after I capitulate, I take a walk to stretch my
aching old legs and spy a food kiosk down at the end of the terminal. It turns
out that they have a cappuccino machine! Wow! Completely unexpected! So here I
sit on my sore ass, torturing y’all, but bathed in warm sunshine coming through
a sun drenched window near the food kiosk, enjoying a cappuccino & some
Chips Ahoy cookies. Life seems good. Maybe surrendering works.
However, I’m still not sure I’m willing to give up
complaining.
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