I woke up early this morning, well rested. There were several hours before time to go to the airport. I decided to get breakfast at Mongoose. This makes my third time eating there in five days.

After breakfast there was still plenty of time before my driver arrived. It felt like a good idea to walk the streets of Ocho Rios again. I headed up Main Street and back down a side street, working my way back to A3 highway. Out on the highway, I bought copy of The Gleaner from one of the newspaper guys, something that has become somewhat of a custom for me here on my last day. Plus, it gave me a chance to use up some of my Jamaican currency.

Check out from the hotel was smooth. My transfer driver arrived a few minutes later. It was the same guy as last time. He had found my baseball cap in the trunk of his car and saved it for me. I thanked him profusely. We had more conversation on the way back to Sangster airport. I made sure to give him a good tip.

The official 50th Anniversary fête was in 2012 for pretty much the entire year. It felt like I missed most of the party, but there were still remnants of a celebration here and there. It was like promising a friend that you will attend their party but you will be very late. You arrive. The music has stopped, most of the guests have gone home, but some decorations remain hung up and there is still some food left. Your friend is very happy to see you and is glad you made it. “Would you like some cake?”

At the airport I bought my two bottles of rum cream and had them carefully packaged. No problem carrying the package on the plane, on an American carrier, to Atlanta. In Atlanta, they made me check it in for my continuing flight. I talked to the attendants at the checkpoint and told them what was in the package. Then, jokingly, I told them that if my package didn’t arrive in Las Vegas at the same time I did, they’d be the ones I’d come looking for first.

Ordered to return to Atlanta

So far this day was going smoothly – well, except for having to temporarily part with my rum cream. That all changed after boarding the plane in Atlanta. We taxied away from the gate but had to hold at the runway due to some sort of problem. It must have either been resolved, or we were given permission to go ahead and take off anyway.

We had been in the air for a while by now, continuing a steady climb to our cruising altitude. The co-pilot accidentally keyed the cabin mic. We heard him say something about us already being in the air. We were over Mississippi by this time. Apparently we had been ordered to return to ATL. We circled over Atlanta to burn off fuel and eventually landed.

Fortunately, the airline had another of the same type of airplane available so it was easy to transfer luggage to the spare plane, and the passengers kept their same seat assignments. That was the good news. The bad news was if we continued on to Las Vegas, the original crew would’ve exceeded their allotted hours. Now we had to wait for a replacement crew. They finally showed up a couple of hours later. Meanwhile we waited inside the airport at the gate. Most of the shops on the concourse had long since closed. Only a few remained open. I only had a carry-on with no form of entertainment inside. No laptop, no smart phone, no books, nothing.

My original plan was to spend the night at a hotel in Las Vegas and go straight to work from there in the morning. I had to cancel the hotel reservation and explain to them why I would not be staying there so that I would not be charged for being a no-show. Travelocity came in handy in that they were able to look up the flight status and confirm my reason for canceling.

We finally arrived back in Las Vegas well after midnight. And my prized package of rum cream made it unscathed. I ended up driving from the airport directly back to California and straight on to work. No, I didn’t get any sleep.

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