We're in Santa Maria, about three hours north of Los Angeles. Paul's luggage is en route from Orlando. Or so jetBlue has told us.
When we arrived in L.A. after an uneventful flight, our luggage arrived with almost scary efficiency on the airport baggage carousel. Well, almost all of it.
After the carousel stopped and it became increasingly clear that no more suitcases were going to come down the chute, Diane inquired and learned that his bag went on a quest for the Mouse. This was easy to understand, since a flight to Orlando was leaving at about the same time ours was going to California.
We were assured it would be arriving overnight, but as of 8 a.m. PDT on on Wednesday it still wasn't here. Luckily, Paul has learned to carry a change of clothes and his toiletries in a backpack for times like these. I guess we've taught him well.
After a 45-minute wait for a rental car at Fox, we were on our way, up the Southern California coast on routes 1 and 101. The combination of mountain peaks, mist, and turquoise water quickly made the chagrin of earlier in the day a distant memory.
We stopped at Henri's Cafe in Oxnard for an early dinner, an early '60s-style diner with fresh, basic food at reasonable prices --- just what we needed after a long flight and overpriced airport food.
No comments:
Post a Comment