First of all, please accept my apologies. You see, the 29th of February is Fay Wray Day in the SBR.* In the non-leap years, we tend to celebrate FWD a little longer, since we've never been able to decide whether it's more proper to celebrate it on the 28th or the 1st. In the end, we usually settle for the whole week. That's what we did this year. It was banana daiquiris all around. A grand time was had by all. Perhaps a little too grand of a time was had by all. My wee fuzzy head is still throbbing. Wotta week! Wotta woman! Hip, hip, Fray Way!
Now, where did I leave our intrepid travelers? Ah, yes, it was their last night in San Fran. They had a disappointment earlier that day when they realized that one of their favourite joints, the Gold Spike," had bellied up. The didn't realize it until they were bopping down Columbus street. Deep sighs all around.
Of course, late in the day a family with boisterous youngsters and a colicky baby checked into the room next to theirs. Since they had connecting rooms, one of the little darlings kept trying to open the connecting door while the baby kept crying. Everything went quiet around 11 PM until 1:30 AM; that was when the colicky baby woke up. Again, I assured Grams that this sort of this wouldn't happen if I had been with them. You'll remember the time that I got us upgraded to a suite in Canada; not to mention all the upgrades on airplanes. All I have to do is smile. What can I say? When you've got it, you've got it.
So, they were a teensy bit crabby when they got up the next morning. They had to catch the Amtrak bus at 7:30 AM, so they hustled to get Pier 39. The bus arrived on time and off they went to the station at Jack London Square. The train was 2 hours late. "I can deal with 2 hours," said Big Guy; but they had already missed their breckie-puddy. When they finally got on the train they discovered that the crew was the same crew they had come up with. Their cabin attendant was, Chris, again. He had already made a luncheon reservation for them. It looked as if things were going well. Little did they know what lay ahead.
Luncheon was good. Julio was their server again. They had a few laughs. But, the train kept getting later and later. Just outside of Paso Robles, the conductor came on the speaker and said that they would be delayed 10 to 15 minutes. That delay took 1 hour. So, you can see how it went.
They went to the afternoon wine and cheese tasting. But the train kept getting later and later. Grams' bad(der) eye went out on her at supper and Chris had to make up a bed for her. I hate when that happens because she's not tired so she can't sleep; but, at the same time, she can't see. She puts it this way, “got to rest the peeper, Gweeds.”
Face it, would you want to come up against this woman? (Grams complained when she saw this photo, "you could've at least Photshopped out my freckles!" "I did! Those are your age spots!" She just doesn't appreciate what I do for her!).
They arrived back in Santa Tourista around midnight: 6 hours late. Big Guy is checking airline schedules for the next time. Too bad, I know how much they love the train.
Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).
And, of course
*Small Banana Republic