JANUARY 4, 2010: My travel agent may be on to something with this airport hotel plan. She feared the fog might strand me in Monterey on the morning of my flight to South Africa, and begged me stay near SFO the night before. Monterey Airbus was great and even picked me up for the convoluted trip, stopping first at Marina (no takers) Prunedale (no takers) and San Jose International (one departee). Unfortunately, when they dropped me off at the place where my shuttle was supposed to arrive, every hotel but mine showed up.

When I was the one remaining person on the platform, I scrambled across the street, down the escalator and out to the taxi stand, located on the lower lever. Finally a medium I understand, except that my cabbie was very angry when he learned that my destination was about one mile away! Didn I know that he had been waiting in the queue for two hours? Didn I know they had a shuttle?

I smiled in the backseat and gave him a good tip.

So, here is this Family Owned for Sixty Years motel, a little Spanish style enclave in the middle of Milbrae. Do you even know where Milbrae is? It is the home of the San Francisco International Airport, so apparently that is enough. Fortunately, there is a ground floor room for me that will be the locale of my ride before dawn, back to the airport for the dreaded security lines. For now, there is an open bar about three doors down with lots of limes and cold San Peligrino, and a restaurant with room service! Best of all, the internet service is fast, easy, and free. YUP, that why (my TA) Ingrid gets the big bucks. She knows all the tricks.

I reflect upon a funny thing that happened while we were waiting for the airbus: a man arrived with his lady friend, who was preparing to travel abroad. He is a person that I see quite often while walking on the Wild Road near my home in Pebble Beach, better known as 17 Mile Drive. My habit is to race along and take in the waves, and various scenes of golfers, visitors with cameras hanging out the windows and lots of bicyclists.

This guy always smiles and says the nicest things, although he has no clue who I am and probably doesn care. But today, when he saw me in my street clothes with orchids in my hair, he appeared to have seen a ghost! I could see that he was hoping I would not mention our connection, as synchronistic as it may be. The lady was all over him, and clearly hated to say goodbye, so who would want to ruin that? I kept his secret, although he has done nothing wrong, but appeared to look askance at me when confronted with a chance to have a few kind words.

She sat behind me on the bus, this lovely woman, all gooey and star struck with romance as she waved goodbye. He waved at her, and then I waved goodbye too. I sure she didn know that he waved back.
This will be a whimsical trip. I can feel it.

Go to PART... I, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII