Very soon after I posted my last post, I locked the doors, made sure we still had three cats, loaded suitcases into the car, and drove to the San Antonio airport.
Ron’s the airport expert, but he’s taught me well, I think — I parked no farther from the terminal than absolutely necessary and got through security in reasonable time.
After the flight, which I mostly slept through, I came out of the terminal in Ontario, expecting cool California breezes that would be a relief after hot, muggy south Texas. This hope was sadly dashed — it was actually a couple of degrees hotter in Ontario than in San Antonio. Drier, but hotter.
This is the view as I waited for the airport shuttle, by the way. Except for the New Orleans airport terminal, nine months after Katrina, I’ve never seen a less busy major airport.
The drive to Anaheim only took about 45 minutes, way less than I’d expected. Good — my body was still on Central time and I was ready for dinner. I was glad to see some of Ron’s colleagues I don’t get to see often (and finally met one who I’d never crossed paths with — hi, Mike), but by the time we got back to the room I was definitely ready to go to bed.