Wasn’t it Mark Twain who said, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.”
Got up to a misty rain in Salinas, checked out, had breakfast, went out for lunch, caught the shuttle in Prunedale, looped San Jose Airport a few times for no apparent reason and headed for SFO. Climbed three flights of stairs, took the AirTrain, two stops to the Hotel, and checked in. Strangely, the receptionist remembered me from our stay at Thanksgiving because of my somewhat infamous name.
Tomorrow we fly back, hopefully as uneventful as the trip from Salinas to SFO.
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