Bill: Friday morning, 4:45 am and the alarm indicated it was time to go. I was surprised to be awakened by the alarm, because I usually can't sleep the night before I travel. So, fresh from my 5 hours of rest, I sprung to action... like a wet noodle. Our 129 mile drive from Grand Rapids to Detroit Metropolitan Airport was uneventful. Smooth. Traffic free. I was scared. We could have slept another half hour if I knew things were going to go that well.
Emily : I cannot handle that, I'm the reason we really got up and left early, because if for half a second it looks like we're going to be even one minute late, I freak out.
Bill: But, since I seldom do go well, especially when you really need them to, we erred on the side of caution. It was clear that it would be a full flight on the 757, which meant one of us (Emily) would have to squeeze in the center seat. At least the man sitting there was quiet, thin and did not smell.
Emily: Amen.
Bill: I was starting to get real nervous now as things were just too convenient. It was a quick on-time flight with nice service and clear air later and we were in the worlds worst place ever; Atlanta Hartsfield International Gateway to Hell. You can try to make a huge airport run smoothly. You can manage human traffic with signs and regularly scheduled trams and polylingual PA announcements. You can also put lipstick on a pig and when you are done, what you have is a pig. No matter to us as we were on time, early, even. We went to the next gate and settled in. The first time I ever drove to Savannah I was delirious with exhaustion and dismayed to learn that Savannah is a full 5 hours away from the Atlanta airport. No wonder Sherman's men didn't plunder the city. They were tired from walking all that way down Route 16 (which at the time I think was only 2 lanes instead of 4). Once we we took to the sky, however it would be a 31 minute hop to the jewel of Georgia. Did you know Avis and Budget merged? Yeah, us either. We walked past that counter enough times to wear down the carpet. But Em figured it out by actually reading a sign. I tell you, women are amazing. I would still be walking back and forth waiting for my rental car to just run me over. At the counter, we received good natured ribbing from the man when we told him we used to live in Savannah. Most people are incredulous when you tell them you left to move to a place where it snows. He was the first of many to draw back in horror and ask, (from the bottom of his blessed heart), "Why!?!" He regained his composure enough to offer us an upgrade to a Mustang or a Camaro. Mustang, please. That's a whole 'nother blentry. Grabber blue on black leather 'Stang later and we were wheeling toward Pooler, Georgia.
Emily: Which turned out to be eight miles from the airport, but felt like forever because it was HOT!
Bill: See, we're not even there yet and she's already bitching about the heat. This is why we moved. Little did I know the complaining wouldn't stop, the topic just changed. Pooler used to be a spit of land on the boundary of the airport that was important only because if a plane crashed there, no one would care. My how things have changed. And that's where we'll pick up chapter 2.
Emily: And I ask you this: have you figured it out yet? Is this going to work for all of you? Also, just to add more, here's the link to my blog with the pictures.
Bill: And to my blog for more about the Mustang.
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