I was concerned about my solo drive to Bunbury. I had been spoiled for two weeks with a driver taking me to and from the airports. Now I had to put on my thinking cap and make it on my own.
I allowed myself a slower paced dinner and didn’t mind when the taxi service took a long time to pick me up. I would drive to Bunbury at my leisure. Or so I thought. I realized that the rental car place was closed as the taxi driver zipped away. Thus began my slightly panicked next few minutes as I came to grips with the change in plans. I took another taxi all the way to the airport to a different Thrifty location. There was one GPS left and I got it.
I put a call to the hotel in Bunbury to warn them of my late arrival. I asked for back-up directions and realized it wasn’t all that easy to get there. Little did I know, the caring proprietor on the other end of the phone was concerned. She told me the next day that she reasoned to herself that I sounded “competent over the phone.” And yet she stayed awake as a mom would do until the American woman rolled into her parking spot at 11pm.