It started out great. I was so smart. I got tickets for us to take the bus to the airport rather than deal with parking. I had everything properly packed, created a travel folder for our trip and we were all good. Sure, sure, the flight from Logan to BWI had some crying babies. But hey! It’s summer, it was a Saturday, and the reality is that small children are going to be on vacation flights. It happens and I can’t get too tied up in a knot about tiny humans behaving like tiny humans.
The problem is that was the day that there were thunderstorms all over the East Coast. Our flight from Baltimore to Norfolk was first delayed by an hour — thunderstorms and flight routing, ya know?
I couldn’t get really bent out of shape by that, either. An hour late? It happens. Why freak?
Then it was a hour and a half. But we board the plane! Ya! It’s a short hop from BWI to Norfolk, so it’s still all good, right?
Nope. The flight route between BWI and Norfolk is closed. Not weather this time, but air traffic. We do not have permission to take off.
We sit on the tarmac about an hour. That’s okay. I’m hot and uncomfortable, but I have an audiobook and knitting. My husband has his music and a bunch of books. And we had gotten up at four in the morning, so napping was definitely an option as well! (I don’t sleep well on planes, but I catnap great)
The flight was fine, but we took a weird route, coming in from the Southeast right over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. It was a wonderful sight, and to be frank, I’m really glad I got that view. To me, the sight of it always means a homecoming. I love that bay. It’s the route my ancestors took to come to Virginia, and those waters are my blood.
We were so late that the transportation company that was going to get us a ride from the airport had its staff go home. But it was still good because they put us in a nice cab to oceanfront and to my family.
And waking up to this is good…