30 Hours Later...

To make the story more interesting, I could say that we rushed around Tuesday morning trying to get everything together for the flight, but the fact of the matter is, when you spend a month living in a 15X12 foot room it means that your stuff hasn’t gone very far, and there ain’t much of it.

In fact though, the story didn’t need spicing up. Logistically, we needed to get from the West Side of Chicago to O’Hare airport with public transportation and all of our baggage. That meant a half-mile walk with all our groups luggage, including the bags of Scott and Dorothea which were grounded enough in antiquity that they did not possess the luxury of wheels. We were a grand caravan of pack mules to behold! (see illustration.)

The experience of flying in and of itself was never something that I have been a fan of. And let it be known that I am all for sacrificing personal comfort to save money, but after thirty hours in transit from Chicago, over Miami, to Lima, Peru, to Santiago, Chile, before landing in Asunción the next day, I am ready to abstain from flying for at least a year.