In two days Team Bodfish, boxed bicycles and bulging bags of camping gear are headed to SFO for what is supposed to be a flight to MUC. I've remembered my Chamoix-lined shorts, my vitamins and my Euro swimming costume but, so many things are out of my control. The cabin crew of our chosen airline is spitting and sputtering about wages and benefits and therefore staging "demonstration strikes" as I write this. London's Heathrow airport is also teaming with demonstrators with various other causes...for instance: the handicap bathrooms won't allow person's of the opposite sex attend their charge so, we are going to stage an airport clogging demonstration over this....just use the friggin' bathroom. Do you think they'll arrest you? Consequently, we may have trouble getting through Customs in the allotted ninety minutes before the connection departs to Munich. If we get there Friday afternoon we have a car and a room waiting for us, at Hotel Isar.
And then, there's the animal...the one we leave in the care of Colby, who by the way, hasn't checked in with us for four days...last we knew he was kayaking the American River with a mob of holiday drunks...at least three hours from here. Two days, it just doesn't seem like enough time. Did you hear about Hurricane Leslie?...She is sweeping right across our path over the Atlantic Ocean and is set to cause havoc in The British Isles as soon as we land. What? Me worry?