The Navy is moving us from Waukegan,
Illinois, to San Diego, California; driving across the country with a
three-month-old baby and a cat who's afraid of the world is quite an
adventure!
NOTE: I had pictures to put up here. But I'm a procrastinator and didn't get around to posting this until more than a week after arriving in San Diego, and during that time my cell phone (where the pictures were stored) died. Before I had transferred the pictures off of it. So sad, too bad, no pictures.
By the time Day 5 of our trip came
along, all four of us were tired. D was tired of driving, I was
tired of trying to keep Little Bug quiet and happy. Little Bug was
tired of sitting in a car seat with nothing particularly exciting to
look at, and Freddy was tired of his current lot in life.
And so it was with weary bodies and
spirits that we settled into our SUV for the final day of our road
trip.
The day started out with discovering
the only two negative aspects of the Falcon Ridge Hotel, as far as I
could ascertain. First, the shower drained slowly. Really slowly.
Like, by the end of my five minute shower (babies necessitate
developing the ability to cleanse oneself with great haste), I was
standing in two inches of water. Not really a big deal in the grand
scheme of things though.
Second, their “complimentary hot
breakfast” didn't start until 0630. Which also wasn't really a big
deal, except all of the other places we had stayed started breakfast
at 0600. Additionally, Little Bug was still firmly in an
Illinois-state-of-mind; he woke up at about 0430. Of course, waking
up that early wasn't much of a stretch for us either. But even after
both D and I had showered, an hour still remained until breakfast
began.
So we faced a dilemma. To wait for
free breakfast, which would surely be the best one of the trip so
far? Or to just get on the road?
We opted to continue on our way,
picking up breakfast from McDonald's (gasp!) along the way.
We pulled up to the drive-through
ordering apparatus. D placed our order with the fast food worker.
D: I'd like two egg-and-cheese McMuffins. No meat.
FFW: Do you want anything else?
D: No, just two egg-and-cheese McMuffins. No meat.
FFW: (incredulous) You don't want the Canadian bacon?!?
D's response was not exactly kind. But
then, we were on the final leg of our trip and very tired of it all.
Plus, he doesn't really have much patience in the first place for
idiots.
Our final day of driving was thankfully
uneventful. We continued to stop every hour or two, both for our
sake and for Little Bug's. Freddy continued to hide under the
passenger seat. An hour or so out, we realized that neither of us
had really been paying attention to license plates, so we gave up on
that game. (Final count: 32 states, 3 Canadian provinces, and a US
Government plate. Not bad.)
We drove the rest of the way across
Nevada, through Las Vegas (where we only encountered a little bit of
traffic). And finally we entered California. Blessed, wonderful
California. The end was in sight!
Well, after a few more hours of
driving, anyway. We both eagerly drank up the signs showing
decreasing distances between our present location and San Diego. And
finally, around 1330, we arrived at the Naval Station there!
Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing
(haha) from there. Our initial hopes of staying in the Navy Lodge
for a few nights were dashed when they asked for Freddy's vaccination
records, which were stored with the rest of his paperwork in the POD.
The motel we finally ended up getting a room at, the Vagabond Inn,
was expensive and smelled faintly of stale cigarettes. We had a hard
time finding the hotels in the first place, and it was only thanks to
some friends of ours who had already relocated to San Diego that we
were able to locate a place to stay at all.
But once we were in our room, with
Freddy hiding under the blankets on the bed (where we had been
expressly told NOT to let him go), D was free to seek out an
apartment for us, hopefully one where we could move in within a day
or two. I had a television to watch, and wi-fi, and a list of
restaurants that would deliver food to us in our room. And Little
Bug had a bed to sleep on next to his mama; he was still living in a
different time zone, and fell asleep early.
But getting settled into San Diego?
That's clearly a story for another day.
Skipping the meat probably saves half the trauma of the breakfast sandwich, anyway ... so I am sure it wasn't THAT bad ;) Poor Freddy ... what a catastrophic series of events for him - I wish we could find HIS blog.
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