By the time we woke up, we were already docked in Tampa. After breakfast (in the main dining room), we got our stuff together, and disembarked. On the way off the ship, I took this picture:
Loading Up For The Next Trip!
And there we were, at about 10 in the morning, and our flight didn't leave until about 4 in the afternoon. Bad planning. So we rented a car and drove around for a while. This time, I drove out of the city altogether, and meandered around the Florida countryside. We had lunch at:
Bob Evans Restaurant
...at Terry's request. To understand this, you need to know that Terry's Dad's full name is Robert Evans Dittmar.
On the flight home, the inflight movie was "The Queen," which Terry and I had both wanted to see, so that was a bonus. We had a two and a half hour layover in Denver, where we had dinner. Then Terry wanted to take the dog out. Since that would mean leaving the airport, and coming back in through security, I volunteered to do it. That was a minor adventure in itself.
It turns out the Denver airport consists of several concourses, connected by a subway system. I had to take a subway clear across town (it seemed). As usual, I went to the front car, and watched the tunnel go by. And I noticed something interesting. The walls of the subway tunnel were covered with hundreds of small propellers. As the train sped down the tunnel, the air waves from the advancing train would cause the propellers to spin. I never did figure out if this had some utilitarian purpose, or if it was just artistic.
And then I had to to take North out into the open air - at two degrees below zero! I told North, "Do quickly what you have to do!"
And then we flew home, and our friend Cathy picked us up at the airport. And we had one final adventure.
Whenever I go on vacation, I always wonder what to do with my keys. Obviously, I don't need them during the trip. But I can't leave them at home, because I need them to get into the house when I get back. This time, Terry had what we both thought was a great idea - I put them in her purse. Well, Cathy took us home, and dropped us on the sidewalk in front of our house, and we got all the luggage out of her car, and she drove away. And then I said to Terry, "Where's your purse?"
She didn't have it.
Well, our panic was short lived. After a few minutes, she remembered taking some money out of her purse to pay for Cathy's parking in the airport garage. So we knew her purse wasn't in Denver, or Tampa, or somewhere in the Caribbean. But Cathy doesn't take calls on her cell phone, so we had to leave a message on her home phone, and wait till she got home, and then ask her to come back!
A dramatic finale for an adventure-filled trip.