We left the botanical gardens and went searching for a gas station. We drove over half of San Antonio before we finally stumbled upon one a mile from the airport ($2.39/gallon). We arrived in plenty of time for me to buy a sandwich in the terminal from a woman who tried to short me .50 change. She was not at all pleased that I caught her at it.
There were about six empty seats on the plane, but one of them was next to me. I had a window in front of the wing and had a great view of Texas as we flew north. We passed over a very large city, which I assume is Dallas. (Feel free to correct me if you know otherwise.)
Soon after I took this photograph, clouds obscured the ground, which was fine because I was falling asleep. I woke up just as we were flying over the Mississippi. The sky was cloudless. We must have been ahead of schedule because the pilot descended, slowed down and zig-zagged his way across Illinois.
It was a stunning day. I could see Chicago and Lake Michigan when we were still way, way out. I spotted two corn mazes, a wind farm (I lost count of the windmills somewhere around 50) and a high-school football game in progress. The leaves were in full fall-color display. And my camera memory was filled. I wanted to take some pictures, but I couldn’t bring myself to delete Texas photos to take pictures of Illinois. So I just sat back and enjoyed the fantastic view for 45 minutes or so.
We gathered our luggage and called the limo. This time we just got a town car — and a driver who was an absolute lunatic. It was 5:30 or so, peak rush hour in Chicago, but he had apparently never experienced traffic before. He took off in a rush and never settled down. In the 20 miles or so between the airport and our drop-off spot, he must have changed lanes 42 times. And I’m not exaggerating. An opening would develop in the next lane and he’d cut over, only to be stopped short within seconds. He’d slam on the breaks and throw his hands up and mutter, then watch for another opening. My sister and I chatted in the back seat and called Mom on the phone to tell her we were safe — even though at that point it was still an open question. We tried not to notice, and were very happy when we finally arrived — in pretty close to the same amount of time it would have taken us if the idiot had just picked a lane and stuck with it.
But all’s swell that ends swell.
What I hate about these limo companies is that no matter how horrible their services and personnel are, a fixed amount of gratuity is imposed upon the customer. If you signed a paper before getting off the car, which I believe you must have, then this driver was rewarded for driving like a lunatic and putting your life in danger. Ugh.