We made it from Málaga to Dublin to New York and have been with the Dowager Duchess (who has dark purple nails this week — no photo yet) since Wednesday evening. It wasn’t the greatest of travel days. Security followed by passport control followed by security followed by passport control followed by security followed by customs followed by passport control. Shoes off. Belts off. Pants falling down. Computers out. Again and again. Every time we fly, we say it’s not what it used to be.
We flew Aer Lingus, which we do find very pleasant. According to our itinerary, we were scheduled to leave Dublin at 3:15 p.m. and arrive New York around 6:30 p.m. When we boarded, the flight display at our seats indicated that we’d be leaving at 3:15 p.m. Dublin time and arriving 10:15 a.m. New York time, which by my reasoning meant we had already been in New York more than 5 hours. What a relief. When we pointed this out to the flight attendant, she was thrilled to know she’d have an extra day for fun in New York. But she then suggested it could also mean we’d be arriving 10:15 the next morning. Burst my bubble! The screen corrected just before we took off. We weren’t set to arrive Thursday morning, but to my disappointment we weren’t already there either. A little under 7 hours to go. Oh well. I had the wonderful, charming, and always entertaining company of San Geraldo.
|WHAT A SURPRISE TO GET ON THE PLANE IN DUBLIN AND DISCOVER
WE HAD ARRIVED IN NEW YORK HOURS AGO.
We had a good meal onboard. The dieting San Geraldo (41 pounds/18.5 kilos!!!) had ordered in advance so he could be guaranteed a suitable meal. He passed to me whatever wasn’t on his diet, which meant I didn’t go hungry. In addition to my own meal (which included roll and butter, cheese and crackers, and ginger cookies), I had his roll and butter, his cheese and crackers, a little bottle of red wine, and chocolate/caramel mousse. After dinner, San Geraldo asked if he could stack my tray on top of his larger, more elegant tray and keep them both in front of me momentarily. Many “momentarilies” later, while I sat trapped under the stack and unable to raise my video screen, reach into the seat pocket in front of me, or do anything more than snap pictures from one position, I looked over to see that San Geraldo had one leg crossed over the other, and was comfortably (well, it’s relative) reading his Kindle. I might not have noticed so soon, but he had bumped me with his elbow as he adjusted in his seat and thoughtfully asked if he was crowding me!
|“AM I CROWDING YOU?”|
|THE SHAMROCK… UP ABOVE THE CLOUDS.|
The Kid Brother arrived Thursday morning at 8:15 a.m. and suggested it would be a good day for the “racetrack,” which in Kid Brother parlance means the casino next to Aqueduct Racetrack. He and San Geraldo are cut from the same cloth. The Dowager Duchess and I agreed, selflessly, to go along. We all won. Quite a lot. However, The Kid Brother and San Geraldo will I’m sure want to go again. Will we all be lucky twice?
Sunset Thursday Night Over Coney Island
|(RIGHT) THE CYCLONE ROLLER COASTER, THE WONDER WHEEL,
NEWLY LIT PARACHUTE JUMP BEHIND THE CENTER BUILDING.
(CLICK ANY PHOTO TO “ENLAHGE.”)
|ONE DAY, THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA… ANOTHER, THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.|
|FIGHTING MAN FROM HEAD TO TOE?
(ATOP ONE OF THE DUCHESS’S HAND-CHROCHETED DOILIES.)
P.S.: We’re sitting at Starbucks. A woman a table away has been Skyping in Russian with someone. She’s talking so loudly and shrilly that everyone around has been staring and muttering. Another customer just walked over and told her nicely in Russian that she needed to speak more softly. She immediately did so. I just waved and thanked him. “Gracias,” I said.