The Journey

Since I broke my leg, I have thought that time was moving at a glacial pace.  I was thinking the time to head to Morocco would never come.  A little more than a week ago, it came and I wasn't ready!  I wasn't able to say goodbye to as many people as I would have liked or pack as carefully as I should have.  That fact aside, I left on my trip on the 20th of August.  It was very sad to say goodbye at the airport but luckily modern technology means you are still able to see and talk to your people when you're on the other side of the world! 
I arrived in LA and was taken down to the baggage claim in a wheelchair after being awkwardly set aside right outside of the arrivals gate.  Some of the new pilots who were taking over the next flight teased me by telling my chaufer to not forget me like the last one who had to spend the night in a wheelchair.  It's very awkward to be wheeled around by a complete stranger.  It's even more awkward when they don't speak English as was the case with the woman who helped me.  Once I had retrieved my bag, a very nice girl drug it outside for me and I sat down to wait.  I had just begun to get a little nervous and feel the absense of my cell phone keenly when my Aunt Diana pulled up with my two cousins.  We went back to their house in San Pedro then had a very nice dinner with homemade pesto made from fresh Basil.

The next day was Flugtag which means flying day in German.  It's sponsored by Red Bull and this one was taking place at Long Beach.  We arrived early enough to watch the people do the things the kinds of people who push paper mache flying machines off of high platforms into water do.  There was a group who had made a giant stork and all wore depends and pacifiers who called themselves the "Unexpected Delivery." 

 There was also a group who were cavemen in animal skins tearing into large hunks of meat and throwing bones at the audience who were going to see how far they could fly a large round rock. 

In order to get a suitable angle at which to watch the carnage, I had to crutch about half a mile around a crowded pier to a peninsula with a lighthouse but it was worth it.  I'm not sure how my cousins enjoyed it since it was about 90 degrees and very sunny with no chance of shade and once you've seen one, you've kind of seen them all, but I had a good time.  To get the crowd pumped up, they had some speed wings come out of a helicopter with smoke trails and do incredibly aggressive landings right on the launch pad, (my own accident flashed before my eyes) and they had what they called a skyaker which is what happens when you skydive in a kayak, you can just land pretty fast.  I thought it would have been pretty tough to keep your balance as you're landing but otherwise it was rather pointless since he had no paddle and he looked like a stranded water bug until the jet skis came to rescue him.

After Flugtag, the babysitter came and Uncle Jeffery, Aunt Diana, and I left for Laguna Beach for a classy evening at pageant of the Masters at the art festival.   The Art festival has such a cool outside venue!  There is a middle common area on which there was a jazz band playing and then artists with all sorts of mediums surrounding it.  We ate al fresco and then went to a huge outdoor amphitheatre.  The pageant consists of a narrator, full live orchestra, and almost a hundred great works of art presented in tableau by live actors.  You couldn't tell the difference between the original paintings, tile work, or sculptures and the people setting it up.  It was amazing the way the lighting made the whole scene incredibly one dimensional. 

We went for a drive the next day along the beach and then I caught my plane to London in the evening.  I was very nervous about London because my plans to meet my cousin had fallen through.  When I got off of the plane, there was a wheelchair waiting for me and they stuck me in a corner for awhile again, I think it's just protocol, then took me to baggage claim.  The wheelchair tender somehow managed to procure me a porter who took me to the underground station and helped me get a ticket and got them to take me down in a lift.  I thought this is cake!  The line took me straight to Picaddilly station where my hostel was and I got off there.  A very nice old man took my bag for me and carried it all the way up the many stairways and out onto the street.  He then asked directions and took me all the way to my hostel.  I tried to give him a postcard from Stillwater county as a thank you note, but I think he misunderstood me and ran off saying he didn't want it.  I shared a room with five German girls who all knew each other but I was too tired to care and just laid on my bunk and read.