I’m at the Santa Fe airport on my way to visit my grandchildren in Michigan. What a hoot! There is one gate with a little conveyer belt next to it that they call Baggage Claim. Someone asked me where Baggage Claim was, and I told her that she just walked past it. And the zones are a joke. I’ve been here when there are about five people in Zone 3.
After my last trip here my suitcase was lost, and when I called Hertz to ask the number of the airport lost and found, he asked me if my suitcase was purple and if I was Ellie. He said that he was looking at it and it would be on the next shuttle to my house.
The people have a unique style. Although most are comfortably dressed in loose cotton tops and sneakers, I’m looking at a twenty-something woman in a buckskin skirt and cowboy boots…straight out of Bonanza or a southwestern version of Vogue, depending on your age.
Last week I called Hertz to reserve a car for my son, and when Bernard answered the phone I told him that I remembered him. He remembered me, too, and asked if I had moved in yet. I love this little town mentality! It is hilarious!
Sounds like you found your way home! 🙂