TO BE AN ONLY CHILD

 I think I told my readers, if there are any, that I am an only child. Little did I realize growing up that that would allow me to have a few interesting adventures as an adult. Today I have decided to share some of those with you and I hope I am not repeating any stories. I will try to keep them in chronological order but that may be impossible for me.

I start by reminding you of my flight from New Orleans to Athens, Greece. That's a tale you may find in my blog of June 30, 2019, so I won't retell it now. After that I flew to Washington D.C., which I wrote about on May 18, 2019. These are trips that I made alone and somehow managed to come away unharmed. 

Then there was the trip to Mexico City before things like email and all the other rapid communication stuff existed. I took some papers containing our shipping company business to the capital for a fellow to sign because at that time there was no way to have that done electronically. Of course when I arrived in Mexico City I had to get a taxi to the hotel so as I stood there on the sidewalk where they were parked, the first driver in line approached me and told me he could take me in. However, he was so scruffy looking that I told him no, I would take the next one. I thought they were going to get into a fight because he was really pissed off but I sure wasn't going to get in a taxi with him! Anyway, I got to the hotel, got my room and made arrangements to take the papers to the business man who was to sign them. Then I had to get a taxi to that office. I made sure that the taxi driver knew that I understood Spanish and that I knew in which direction we should go. Otherwise, it was a habit of some of them to drive gringos all around in circles in order for the fare to be higher. Fortunately, I had been in D.F. enough and studied maps to know my way around pretty well. He was a good driver so I asked him to return the next morning to pick me up and take me to the airport. By the way, Mexico City isn't the only place where they can help you run up a large taxi fare. That happened to us in Houston one time too. But, again, I digress.

Then there was the time my husband had a ship in Miami and while he was busy I decided to take a little tour around that city. I first went on a tram to downtown Miami and visited some interesting sites in the Cuban neighborhood. Had an interesting lunch and then took the tram to the historic Vizcaya Museum and gardens. That place is fantastically beautiful! Google it. When I got back to the hotel and my husband returned I told him where I'd been. He had a fit because I had been to the Cuban area which was not safe! Well, I didn't have any problems there! Maybe the tough stuff comes out at night.

Then there was the time I flew to London after my husband died in order to visit with my daughter who lived there. I don't even know how I managed that because I was so distraught. My daughter lived and worked in a small charming town outside of London. We spent a little time in downtown London where she had some appointments and she had shown me how to catch the Tube, the underground railroad, so I felt sure I could do it on my own. Well, I soon learned that it wasn't like catching the Greyhound Bus from Beeville to San Antonio! It was not difficult to get the train from their town into London. It was the London terminal that almost caused me to go back to her town. The terminal from where you catch the trains is enormous, surrounded by all sorts of shops and eating establishments. There are electronic lists of schedules up on the wall about 15 feet above flashing information as to schedules in a language of abbreviations I couldn't understand. You have to find the correct platform for your train and it could be about a football field away from where you are reading all this info. There are hundreds of people from all over the world milling around in there, most of them as confused as I was, or so I like to think. 

I did manage, however, when I arrived, to find a door to the outer world where I caught a taxi to go to the British Museum. The taxi driver was chatty and of course, could tell I was from the U.S. so I told him I was a Texan whereupon he got off on George Bush, the Younger. We were in agreement that we didn't care for him, so we got along fine. He dropped me off right in front of that beautiful building and in I went. 

This is long and calls for a pause. I will continue tomorrow, hopefully with photos.