In flight somewhere over Northern Canada five miles up in the sky, you have to wonder what an extraordinary world some of us are privileged to occupy. Living in the Keys seems like fortune enough, driving the Overseas Highway:
And then of course in a Saturday afternoon cold reality strikes as traffic backs up remorselessly in Islamorada. After we drove through to Miami a major wreck closed the 18 mile stretch to Homestead. We just saw slow speeds as we took the only road out:
We took Card Sound Road passing for the last time through the manual toll collection booth. By the time we return in early August the toll takers will be gone and an automated system should be in place, taking Sunpass tolls, by February.
We didn't have long to wait. A hamburger and a moment to pause and they were boarding Turkish Airlines flight 78 to Istanbul. Squished over heated and upright for 11 hours across the Atlantic.
We ate dinner, I surfed the web and posted a picture to my Instagram account. This blog post may be a little ambitious for the feeble in-flight internet service. I chose pasta for dinner over chicken. It did the job in unspectacular fashion.
And so, to bed. Trying not to think about Rusty safe and cared for among kindly strangers who I trust. Meanwhile this little tube flies me fast away at 600 miles per hour.