I keep forgetting that going tramping with madshutterbug
isn’t always ragtops and windiness. Bloke woke me up at the arse-crack of before dawn to go to the airport for the goony bird.
We got into the hotel no worries, though a bit late to have tea with Fat Fred & Skippy. So instead madshutterbug
ordered some nice Italian thing with cheese and veal and cheese. Toddled off to bed shortly after that. Then, ‘streuth, before the arse-crack even showed we were up and moving again. Bit of bouncing about in the Tampa airport because it turns out two of the legs weren’t on exactly the same airline, only it is more or less. No worries with Security; I rode my wee tram through the machine. Oh, some whacker bloke ahead of us insisted on emptying out each individual pocket instead of using a waistcoat like madshutterbug
We both snoozed once aboard the flight up to someplace called Charlotte. Then we snagged some tucker between planes, and this time when we got aboard we had a porthole seat! Porthole seats are bloody dinkum. I like watching everything get smaller as we move, then bigger as we get to where we’re going.
Now, we were supposed to go some place called San Francisco first, only that second gooney bird went to Vegas! Bloody oath, ‘streuth, we went to Vegas! madshutterbug
didn’t tell me we were going there, but when I asked him he said we were supposed to go to San Francisco but something happened. We didn’t stay in Vegas, only changed gooney birds like in Charlotte. He was a bit of a wowser, though, wouldn’t let me go explore. I promised him I’d be back in plenty time for the flight.
Short hop to the next stop, someplace called John Wayne Airport. We didn’t stay there long. The airline lost madshutterbug
’s bag just like the trip to Vegas last year, but he didn’t seem concerned about it. ‘Course, he did pack along things in the carry-on. And of course the camera kits stayed with us.
Now he's flaked out in bed, and I'm going exploring. Toodles!