I’m sitting in the Luis Arroz San Juan Memorial International Regional Airport and Helicopter Concern, or something like that, in the heart of Puerto Rico. Angeline and I have decided to bid a “screw this” to working life and move down here… for a few days, anyway. I’ll try to report on the goings on as the days progress.
Today we awoke at a far-too-early 4 AM, jumped in the car and headed to The Right Honorable Jeremiah Hartsfield-Maynard Jackson-William Franklin Campbell Atlanta International Airport. The Delta ticketing agent there gave Angeline crap about being Canadian because she couldn’t read Angeline’s passport. Myself, I claimed to be a US citizen and they just took my word for it. Moral: lie about your citizenship if you’re on a visa.
After this, we hopped on board the plane and settled down for three and a half hours of mild discomfort, in which we finished two crossword puzzles, watched half of the in-flight movie (The Pink Panther) and snoozed a bit. Soon we debarked into the frigid overly air-conditioned SJU terminal complex. We have two hours here to wait around until boarding the shuttle over to St. Croix where we shall be spending the next few days. And they just called us so, bye.