"When I go abroad I always sail from Boston since it is such a pleasant place to get away from."
My flight would have been missed either way, but I did experience some luck on my 2 day trek to Boston from Aspen. The last night in Aspen I did my normal revelry, waking up in someone else's bed in someone else's condo. Through a morning haze I glanced at my wrist watch and noticed it was 7:30. The bus to Denver to catch my plane left at 6am.
I ran back to my condo packed in seconds and began racking my brain for plan B to get to Denver while I microwaved some leftover grits. Then my phone rang, "Megan? Are you still here? The bus arrived late. We're going to leave now." The Gods had smiled upon me!
I made it just in time to hop on the back of the line into the bus. I settled in. Eating my grits I had thrown into a paper cup on my way out the door, I thanked my lucky stars. No matter that my name during roll-call elicited some loud boos from the crowd (they had been waiting 2 hours in the cold while I had slept soundly through the alarm)--I was on board!
Of course with the tardiness of the bus and the heavy snow, we all still missed our flights, but at least I didn't have to hitchhike into Denver.
When I finally made it into Boston the next day, the 2 feet of snow there made Aspen pale in comparison. We spent a good long time digging the car out of it's mini-snow mountain. It was all worth it when I lugged my suitcase up the stairs in my beautiful 3-story victorian house--I was home.
Boston, such a pleasant place to come home to.