just get me to the airport and put me on a plane. hurry hurry hurry, before i go insane

Making the plane this morning was the real miracle. Business class was just a pleasant little bonus.

We left at 6:30, just after sunrise. There was an extra hour of play for Panama. Abdil was up to see us off with a "Godspeed". Cookie must have slept in. We were actually ahead of schedule for the first half up the Pacific Coast - even taking five minutes to photograph one of the strangest artisan stores the side of a highway had ever produced. In my eyes, anyway. All these robots, horsemen and ancient birds made out of recycled steel and engine parts. I just couldn't resist.

It all started going downhill when we missed the congested Puentas Americana exit. Google had urged a clear right but both signs said Panama and I went left. It wasn't a particularly costly mistake, except that the traffic into the city was so bad that we barely moved for a good half hour before it finally cleared up before the bridge. Then we couldn't find the Corredor Sud and got helplessly sucked into the confusing city streets. I was also running out of gas. And everyone else seemed even more impatient than me. On one particularly harrowing four-lane roundabout, I came within inches of hitting a guy who was cutting left while I was trying to go right. The adrenaline and curses were flying now. Wish I had taken the time to brush up on my Spanish.

It was already well past nine. My allotted travel time was up and I was still circling the city. We settled on the Corredor Nord instead and asked three different toll booth ladies to reassure us that yes, we could indeed get to Tocumen Airport this way. The empty light was already on. I considered shutting the AC to conserve fuel. When we finally reached the proper exit and a gas station, my reserve tank was so depleted I had to put gas twice to make sure Europcar wasn't getting anymore than the nothing they had given me. We returned the car by 9:45 and cleared check in at 10:15, leaving us a solid half an hour before boarding. Security officials deflated the little soccer ball I had bought for the beach, quite possibly assuming I was transporting drugs in it. Can X-Ray machines not see through rubber? 

It was only when we finally stepped on the plane that I actually looked at the tickets. We were sitting in Row 1. We were so happy I didn't hear the steward ask me if I had gotten my ball back alright.