It certainly is pretty amazing that these days we can hurdle through the air in a metal tube and some hours later find ourselves halfway across the planet. Doing so isn’t necessarily pleasant, especially in economy with a curious one year old in tow, but it blows away the other options. But once the one year old passes out for a little while, and I adjust to the sometimes unnerving but perfectly safe and natural bouncing around of airplanes, I love gazing out the window at the world (or at least the clouds) below.
Our trip was more or less uneventful, which is the best I could have hoped for. Ray slept enough, flirted with the flight attendants/fellow passengers/customs officials/everyone in between, and crucially, slept for the entire flight from Chicago to Boston (when Chieko and I had hit the wall), including a nearly hour delay on the plane while they fixed the faulty air conditioning system before we could take off. And then he slept in the car from Boston to Cape Cod. And then he and Chieko slept well into the night before waking up for a few hours. I slept, woke up, and slept again. And now, pushing 3:30 a.m., I am the only one awake. So we’ll see how the jet lag continues to play out.
It’s good to be home, as it always is. There is nothing like the physical and mental exhausting of traveling for 20 hours through countless time zones, and there is nothing like the feeling of finally arriving at ones destination and taking a long-overdue shower. As usual, we have no big plans while we are home aside from spending time with friends and family. And bacon, lots and lots of bacon. For now though, I will probably crawl back in bed with my wife and boy and try to get a bit more sleep. Good night, again.