Early Monday morning, we punched our destination into the GPS as we pulled out from the curb in front of the Olivier House in New Orleans, and this is what we saw:
791 miles. 12 hours and 13 minutes. But we knew it had to be done. We had gotten a call along our way across the country that we had been worrying about the wrong problem when it came to the movers. We were originally told it may take up to two weeks to get our stuff to the new house, which was a little worrisome in itself, until we heard that the driver they had scheduled had been taken off the job for some reason and they needed to find a new one. This meant that they picked up our furniture and boxes on moving day and unloaded it into storage that afternoon, unsure of when a new driver was even going to commit. Well, at that point, slightly unnerved that the movers had a few more chances to break our stuff, we were but thankful and even more frustrated when the company called to let us know a driver would be taking off on that next day – Tuesday – and that if he had known he would have just come straight to our house the day before. So that’s what we had been concerned about so far: when on Earth were our belongings going to make it to Florida? So then it turns out that the day the movers would arrive to help us move into our home was not going to be July 2nd like we had estimated. It would be July 1st instead, at 8 a.m., a full five and a half hours before we had even scheduled our meeting with the property manager to pick up the keys. Cue panic.
So this was to be our final day, in which we thought we would most definitely drive in the most extreme sense of the word, yes, but at least be able to see places like Mobile, Alabama, along the way. Nope. These pictures pretty much capture the extent of the highlights.
First, the Mississippi state line.Next, we did get our lunch in Mobile, but it was quick and inhaled on a smelly sidewalk in a much too quiet part of town. Indy, however, fully enjoyed her break in the park near the restuarant, with more squirrels to chase than she had surely ever seen in her wimpery little dog dreams.Even back in the confines of our car we were unable to get her attention. Bill’s (stolen, AHEM) pink sunglasses couldn’t take her eyes off the rodent wonderland just beyond the windshield.Until, of course, it was time to lose them both yet again. It was a long day and obviously time for a nap, damnit, squished by pillows or not.We found a little salvation at the sight of the Florida Welcome Center. That salvation was short lived, as it was hotter than hell outside the car. But we made it to the state at least, after four and a half intense days of traveling. Pretty momentous for our relationship if you ask me.And just for good measure, here’s a second look in case you missed just how important our new governor is. After a brief celebration, we didn’t see much but highway and lush greenery as we sped through Tallahassee and finally got off of the 10, taking a sharp and much anticipated turn south onto the 75. We didn’t see much until… Holy moly, THAT is a sunset.
Ultimately, we didn’t quite make it to Fort Myers, more because we didn’t have a house to sleep in and we wanted to see our new city in the morning light. We definitely were tired and broke enough to book the cheapest motel we could find, which also turned out to be the seediest motel we could find. From the weird guy quite obviously on drugs talking to himself outside the lobby just before jumping in his car and speeding through the red light at the intersection to the stained towels and dirty floor and beds I was literally afraid to sleep in for fear of contracting diseases, it was quite the luxury. Luckily, to quell the pain of certain contamination, we had Chicken McNuggets and a working microwave. It had to happen at some point.Tomorrow our trip of a lifetime comes to an end, and a brand new chapter begins. But until then, sweet dreams Bill, Indy, and seedy motel room. I will cherish our 6 short hours together.