Well, I'm back and it was a wonderful, glorious week--all too short, but terrific. Aside from U.S. Airways (everybody associated with that corporation from hell should rot in same), all went well.
The travel saga: I foolishly signed up for a 7:35 am departure (from Philly), so decided to leave my car in short-term, then have it picked up later in the day. Got there and parked with no problem, dragged my purse, carry-on, and large suitcase out and started back to the check-out counter--I thought.
Without detailing a novel-sized tale of woe, the fact is I didn't get there in time to catch the plane. Frantically scurried around the airport, pushing a two-ton carrier for AN HOUR, and at one point, was helpfully directed to the wrong check-in counter (international) by a U.S. Air employee. Finally made it to the right place only to be told I was too late to board. After wailing and gnashing my teeth, I waited and got the last available seat (it felt like I was on the Titanic) on the next plane. The final insult was that my luggage didn't get on with me and all I had was bathing suit stuff in the carry-on.
I was particular incensed by the bland indifference, even cold hostility, shown by the U.S. Air counter person at check-in. Not only did she very obviously not give a damn, she displayed downright sneering satisfaction at the distress of--let's face it-- an elderly woman traveling along.
That was almost forgotten, however, by the time I got to LAX. Ever-lovin' Ellen was there to get me and we immediately went to the Will Rogers House. I've been there before and always liked it. Had lunch at a Thai place, then zoomed down to Ellen's in Ventura.
Unfortunately, my luggage went off on a vacation of its own and didn't arrive until Monday afternoon, delaying our departure for Palm Springs. But it was worth the wait: Palm Springs is a gorgeous place! The Renaissance, where we stayed, was elegant, with "the largest swimming pool" in the city. It was round, very refreshing, but didn't look that big to me and we spent a lot of time in it. Went to the museum (modern, but nice), the Aerial Tramway (Ellen went, but me? Are you kidding? I went to the movies), and were charmed and refreshed by the "misters" outside restaurants and shops to keep people cool. We ate wonderful food--Thai, Chinese, and other--and I gained six pounds. Cruised around looking for Sinatra's house, went to a Native American-owned casino (lost); and just generally had a ball.
Was it hot? Oh, not really--heh, heh. Shortly after we got there, I saw in the Palm Springs paper the temperatures for the week: 82, 79, 81.... "Huh!" I thought smugly, "We have higher temps than those in Little Egg." Oh, but wait a minute--those were the LOWS! One day, we actually hit 111 and it was over 100 each day we were there. People always say you don't feel it when it's so dry, but believe me, you feel it. I love hot and humid, but even for me, it was a bit much.
Back to Ventura on Wednesday and we continued the fun: went to Ojai to walk "the shelf," a mile and a half trail spiraling up a mountain; swam in the heated pool at Ellen's and enjoyed the hot tub; took a boat ride around the harbor; did all the other things that seem so fascinating to the participants and maybe less than so to listeners, so I'll end here...
BUT! Not until I continue the saga of an airline gone horribly wrong. Was picked up by the shuttle (to the tune of $71) at 2:30 am and got to LAX about an hour and twenty later. Waited in a line until counters opened at 5:00, put my credit card in and was told there was no reservation for me. What?! Why, of course. After I missed my first flight, I was told, U.S. Air in its infinite wisdom cancelled my return flight! Will draw a curtain over my rending of clothes and tearing of hair to conclude that, thanks to a kindly security person ("Gwen") and a savvy trouble shooter (she called New York and got me on the plane), I made it.
Love Palm Springs, California, and my daughter NOT in that order. Hate U.S. Air and all its works.
P.S. I will never, never, NEVER fly U.S. Air again, unless or until I receive an apology in writing--and not a canned one, either. Oh, yes, I intend to write and tell them of my horrors in dealing with their airline. Keep tuned.