I spent the final day of Pacific time in conflict with a stomach ‘thing’ that dampened any joys of sightseeing. It didn’t stop us from another multi-mile trek on foot, but it did prevent me from eating anything of value the first twelve waking hours. As I noted earlier, the poor diet was one of this vacation’s underlying themes. We dined out of necessity and convenience and skipped many meals (in the process building character and saving cash and trash).

Another theme of this last day was a preoccupation with the flight home, scheduled for noon the following day. Caring little to repeat the joys of the previous Friday, we coughed up $200 for an upgrade to business class. Thinking: the free booze makes you forget the extra cost, while that extra half degree of respect from the flight attendants makes you feel just slightly more human.


Normally during travels I jot observations as they materialize. This time, my Moleskine notebook gathered dust and smog and the smell of crab cakes, but only on its cover; no pages were exposed to the elements or to fresh ink. Maintaining an unbroken grip on the handlebar of the double stroller left zippo time to take anything but mental notes. Still, that isn’t altogether bad, as it allowed me to discover the limits of my memory (as evidenced in the brevity of these last eight posts).