So the fog (what was it that people named it again…Carl?) in San Francisco is too thick to land planes right now, so myself and everyone else waiting to board the plane find ourselves taking in the fine sights at the Las Vegas airport. There are slot machines everywhere, flashing neon, and a confusing array of the Strip meets Southwest Native American art?
I’m sitting on the floor after breaking down and spending WAY too much on an overpriced bottle of water and a snack bar. I had my little feast and I decided to get productive with this time and write. The view outside is actually not bad, what with some hazy mountains in the background and all the brightly colored Southwest airplanes dotting the landscape. I can tell from the baggage guys that it must be hot outside.
I have time to fantasize about what to do with my totally free day in San Francisco (once I arrive that is!). What to do first? Find a coffee shop-I’m going on four hours of sleep right now- and make camp with my bags? Make the 90 minute trip from the airport to my AirBnB space and drop off my stuff? Wallow around looking lost? So many choices.
I did manage to fit everything in my Duluth Pack and mini Fjallraven kanken backpack. It helps that I am wearing the one and only outfit that I’m bringing. Honestly, the shoes and books took up most of the room.