It’s difficult to get out of a bed this big, this comfy. But we have a bus to catch. Today we are traveling Greyhound style to San Diego. Another $20 cab ride later, we’re waiting in line at the bus station. They are strict with baggage weight and we’re both asked to redistribute some things from main luggage to hand luggage.
Three guys in line laugh when we say we’re from SA because the one guy told some drunk girl last night that he was from SA. But then again, she apparently would’ve ‘believed anything’.
The security guys are cracking jokes while checking our hand luggage, asking for drugs, alcohol and guns. It’s funny because they are telling people that since we are in Vegas, we should at least have one of them. Ha! I’m also told that I’m not allowed to smile. It’s nice to see they are not taking their job too seriously.
It’s a long eight hours to San Diego, and because Megan and I have collectively done so many bus trips, it’s hard to distinguish and say if there is anything particularly special about this one. We probably watched a movie and slept …
My friend Kristine – a friend I’ve kept since my ski-resort-working days back in 2007 – picks us up, introduces us to her friendly husband Chris, and treats us with Thai wraps for dinner.