This is a good way to start this travelogue because this is how I typically look on my trips. Me taking pictures on Hydra, Greece. A Dianne Lima photo.

February 4

It was a bright, sunny morning on the Monterey Peninsula. We had arrived at our hotel at about 11:30 p.m the day before, so we tried to take advantage of the opportunity to sleep in. However, the sunlight prevented us from meeting this goal. Instead, we arose and went to Mass at the San Carlos Cathedral. We then headed into Pacific Grove to meet up with my brother and his girlfriend. They were kind enough to treat us to brunch at Toastie’s, which is a decent restaurant on Lighthouse Avenue, right next to the Post Office. As is my usual custom before a flight, I ate very little. After the brunch, we piled into my brother’s car and began the drive to San Francisco Airport.

This trip marked the first time that I had been to the San Francisco Airport since the new terminal was completed. I have to say that it is quite a dramatic improvement over the old terminal. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in much of a mood to enjoy the structure. I was deeply in the throes of my fear of flying. As long time readers know, I really hate to fly. This particular phobia attack was especially intense. As all new couples try to do, I looked to my spouse for comfort. She said, “Snap out of it! You’ll be fine." Strangely, I wasn’t reassured.

At about 3:30 p.m., we boarded good old British Airways Flight 284 for London. Dianne got her first true glimpse of the depth of my phobia when I started whimpering about 5 minutes into the flight. She just simply grabbed my shirt at the collar, stared me in the eyes, and said “There is nothing to be afraid of. Just stare into my eyes." I ended up doing that until we got to London.

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