Belize Day 7. D-Day

All good vacations come to an end. So do the bad ones. Everyone says, “I wish it would never end!” But then it would be retirement and not vacation. Which sounds nice too. I do like going home as well. It’s the back to work part of it I truly dislike.

Since we packed last night there is not much to do. I settled the bar bill, only $30BZ. Hey, I don’t drink. Took my cart to the gas station and fueled up. $27BZ for the week. Sounds like nothing but it’s over $5 per gallon US. Just don’t use much in these anemic carts.

Now I am waiting. Ten minutes to the airport, drop the cart, check in and wait. Plane at 10am. Then sit in Belize City for 2.5 hours. Travel days are never fun. Waiting.

I’ve been trying to charge all my crap for the past hour. Not sure why but charging very slow.

Finally off. The girls get a ACd taxi with bags. We are returning these lovely golf carts. We went in convoy to the gas station, mine full so just waited on Vince and Steve (aka Prancer aka Rule #6) to fill their tanks. Off to return. We dropp d and ran. No inspection here. I could have destroyed the damn thing. Of course, they plop insurance on the cart so maybe I should have destroyed it. I am sure I am the one paying for required damage policy. The cart office is 200 feet from the airport.

We walked back to departures, recently remodeled and more than nice. I am not sure why arrivals is shit and departures is sweet. Maybe they ran out of money.

We went out for coffee almost immediately upon arriving in departures. Jodee, Steve P and me. There is a French boulangerie across the street. As French bakeries go, this is the nicest I have seen. I ev n ended up with food to go. Coffee was McDonalds hot which I love. Delices de France. There is a Frenchman in the kitchen, or “rifle dropper” as Steve likes to call them. He is retired British army. And the French are surrender monkeys after all. But the pastries are incroyable!!

We are on the plane.

Everybody going their separate ways. No tears on separation. Usual see you soons and let’s do it agains. Of course, timing a vacation is difficult enough in a busy life, just for yourself. Trying to get a group together again for another vacay is very hard if not impossible. We can hope. We are all pushing hard on retirement which does free up the schedule so who knows?

We tromped off to our terminal, the old one. No matter. The bathrooms have been recently remodeled and are fully westernized. The nice hand dryers. Electric eye flush, etc. This is the beginning of the end. Within a few years this place will resemble Miami Beach. And I will never come here again once it’s fully improved.

So, our group just showed up in our terminal. It turns out the other new terminal still feeds departing passengers to us. And, btw, the planes still load via stairs off the tarmac. Old school. Last time I did that was for a malfunctioning gangway. And when I was here four years ago as well.

The rest of our group just left. Again. Although Steve came back once more for god knows what. He didn’t know either. He just wanted to dump his Belizean money.

I went into duty free not thinking of buying, just looking. You can buy up to two liters of booze per person. The Cointreau was 50% less than what we pay at home. Bought two liters. Too good a deal to pass up. Only problem is I have to carry it through Houston airport. I can handle it. These are obviously ancillary benefits to international travel. Besides sightseeing and the trots.

Checked my watch, still 9.5 hours to Sacramento. But who is counting? Me. It’s nice to fly in on a Friday because you have all weekend to get your shizzle together so you are able to arrive at work on Monday in working order. I need to mow he lawn tomorrow and go get a new phone to replace my dead one. I am buying old/used/refurbished. Mine was old and used so I don’t need new to replace it. Then maybe I can start in on laundry. Or not. I have volunteered to tow a friends boat to Emeryville and I may be doing that on Sunday.

Almost forgot, Emily will be home today. Not sure when. Voice communication has been somewhat problematic for me and I have not talked to her in awhile. She has been helping her folks in Maine for the last week. That’s like a vacation in Belize only not. The weather there has been a tad cooler and there version of humidity is rain. Though they do have exotic food, great ice cream, and good beer. And all cheaper than Belize. I shoulda gone there. Next time. I hope she arrives at Sacramento same time as me.

While sitting here I saw Jeanine coming in. We met her at the hotel. She is creepy. And freaky. Security stopped her in customs. Maybe it was the bandage on her head from her recent bar fight. Really. When they let her through to departures she was escorted by two cops. And they are staying with her. I assume they are helping her leave Belize in an orderly fashion. Or just kicking her out of the country. She is really strange. Not one you want to make acquaintance with. I imagine when she gets to Houston that there will be customs officers and the Texas police at the gate to greet her. Just for a quick how-do-u-do. Welcome home. Maybe I can get a picture.

Houston was Houston. From the air I can see no significant damage from the flooding. Saw a storage yatd full of cars. Maybe water damage but from 1000 ft could just be a junk yard.

Landed and picked up my bag. I was forced to pack my liquor into my checked bag. That has disaster written all over it. I pray for my glass bottles. Please dear god don’t let them be damaged.

Customs was a breeze, just a short wait, and through. I did lose a bottle of Marie Sharps that Vincent insist I take with me. I forgot it was 6 oounces and you can only bring 4.5 or some such total bullshit. TSA is a joke. They make no one safe. They just annoy and take away perfectly safe items from us. I have always hated them. They are the perfect example of our government wasting our tax dollars.

Got a bite to eat before I got on the last leg of my trip home. A “Greek” salad which was every bit as Greek as a Texan can create. At least they tried.

Ok. So I have spoken previously of Jeanine. See above. Well fortunately, she is not alone. I got on the plane to Sacto early. Aisle seat on my row is empty, I am in the middle. Middle seat sucks so I am hoping no one comes along to claim it. Sadly, someone did. Young man, obviously been drinking, unmedicated mentally ill man, sat down next to me. Talking a mila a minute incomprehensibly, and loudly, with bursts frequent bursts of profanity. His first words were about the fucking Bloody Mary he was going to buy, for me too, and he sweatshirt he bought in Alabama and his father the contractor and he is holding about $3000 in cash in his hand and waving it around and cursing and making very little sense. Caught alot of attention from other passengers and finally flight crew as well. But, he continued being the same way with less profanity for a few minutes until he realized I was an Air Marshal, I kid you not, then he shut up completely. Then, all of a sudden he jumps up and takes an empty seat in an exit row. Who know all my years as a marshal would come in handy? Not me. It was a surprise. Life is very strange all the time. I did not see the creep the rest of the flight. Though I did hear occasional bursts of profanity from behind me.

I am 3 hours into my four hour flight. It’s getting dark outside but it’s still 90 at home. But you all know, it’s a dry heat. I will see my doggies in 2 hours. Just watched the only movie I managed to download to my iPad. So back to reading. Nothing more boring than flying on a plane. Perhaps a long train trip. Or sitting in steerage in a boat sweating my cojones off. Beats work. That’s Monday.

Guess what? I met Emily in the airport. Crazy happenstance. Usual insane greeting. Right. We got our luggage together and got the car.

On he way home we got a text, which has not been working, Emily’s dad is having open heart surgery on Tuesday. Looks like I am flying out on Monday night to be there on Tuesday because no one else can. That is crazy. This just came up all of a sudden. Which seems to be my life the last few months. Everyone except Nobby, the son, my bro in law, is being upbeat about this. Nobby is a wanker to the nth degree. Love these British terms. Anyway it’s a three way bypass and a new valve. The 150,000 mile scheduled maintenance. I believe he will do well in surgery. I believe if he gets the chance he will tell all the doctors how to do it. I am only partly joking. He is in charge. If anyone out there wishes to say a quick prayer or light a candle, he can always use it.

I am going to bed. I need a little more beauty sleep so I can continue to impress and amaze people.