Wednesday, June 3
A travel day, first leg of the big vacay. We spent most of the day on a plane between San Diego and JFK, an airport obviously designed by a mean-spirited, illogical toddler. We’d planned our entertainment for the ride, which involved watching the first season of the HBO series True Blood that came highly recommended by a friend. We quickly made a reputation for ourselves from about row 21 back as mothers clamped hands over little eyes that caught a glimpse of our R-rated laptop screen. Apparently vampires are really adverse to wearing clothes. Fantastic.
We spent the night in one of the two-star airport hotels before catching our flight to Barcelona the next day. As we drove up to the gray concrete building, Dean swore the place was a remodeled prison and was sure he could faintly make out the words “Correctional Facility” under the Ramada sign. He was going to try to request a room without bars on the windows. I thought this all this dialogue was hilarious, but I don’t think the Ramada shuttle driver did.
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