Flew out of Lindbergh Field and some 26 hours of travel later, I’m in Montevideo, putting my feet up at casa de mi “host” famlia for the next 4 weeks.
Getting here was half the fun. Three of the smoothest flights I’ve ever had plus 2 even smoother touchdowns. Mechanical issues had delayed the flight from Houston to Panama City, leaving me with about 11 minutes to make my connection.
I had wheelchair assistance every point along the way (mostly to deal with lifting restrictions per my doc) and once they found out where the MVD flight was boarding, a young gal took me on Mr Toad’s Wild Ride, zooming past about 16 gates, weaving in and out of people and their suitcases like a chica loca… out of breath, with both of us laughing, she pulled up in front of the gate, grabbed my 2 carry-ons and got me to my seat.
When I handed her cash for a tip, she just looked at me and shook her head. I tried again, but no. Whether they’re not allowed to accept a tip or if it was, quite sincerely, a pleasure for her, I don’t know. Different, from the guy in Houston who showed up late with the chair, pushed me up the jetway and then stopped – my next flight was scheduled from the same gate where we’d just arrived – and, surly, held out his hand for a tip. I have much to unlearn.
But in Panama City, I was the last one on board. And all my luggage made the flight, too. What a day!
