After a carefree week sailing the Caribbean, I ended up trapped in airports for the whole weekend, trying to return to Richmond during a “massive” mid-Atlantic snowstorm. (In Virginia and farther south, 8” qualifies as a blizzard.)
I’m sure Anthony Bourdain could laugh at my traveling trials, but he doesn’t travel with a pair of 70+-year-olds who want to call all the shots (which usually meant doing nothing to save themselves) because they’re the parents.
Anyway, I’m now digging out from the snow and all the information that piles up in a week. So please bear with me. I haven’t seen No Reservations in Brittany yet, and I’m looking forward to Prague tonight. I will catch up ASAP.
PS: The cats are recovering nicely from their own “hellish” experience while US Airways was torturing me in every imaginable way. Their pet sitter couldn’t get through the snow to open their cans and scoop their boxes. Yul staged one outside-the-box demonstration to convey the group’s dismay over the suddenly-nonexistent housekeeping service. I’ve been working so hard to get them back on track that my suitcase still sits unpacked.