North Carolina 2022 Chronicles: A Journey Fueled by Miller Light and Cheesy Breakfasts

Day Twelve: The Great Escape from Greensboro

It was a morning that greeted us with a sunny chill, Elle already lost in the corporate hustle, Hailee off to nursery, and Julie gearing up for her own workday. Our bags, sworn to a life of adventure, were snugly packed in the boot of our trusty rental car. As we bid farewell to Julie, the road beckoned, leading us to the mystical Greensboro airport for the first flight of the day. With the car returned, we breezed through security, ready for the departure lounge’s warm embrace.

The Delta Dance: Smooth Boarding Until Nature Had Other Plans

Boarding our Delta flight to Atlanta was a dance we mastered with precision. Scheduled departure time acted as our comforting metronome, setting a rhythm to our travel symphony. Little did we know, Mother Nature had her own playlist—raindrops and lightning strikes composing an unexpected crescendo. Grounded until the skies cleared, we finally took flight at 14:56, a fashionably late 45 minutes behind schedule. In the first-class Delta haven, our beverage selection was as limited as a kid’s interest in a museum, but hey, Miller Light can be surprisingly refreshing at 30,000 feet.

Atlanta Chronicles: A Terminal Odyssey

Touching down in Atlanta at 15:53, our connection with Virgin Atlantic beckoned from Terminal A to F, a seemingly brisk 35-minute stroll or a swift 5-minute ride on the internal rail system. Checked in, slightly out of breath, and with bladders threatening rebellion, we realized we had a mere 65 minutes before takeoff. The race against time became a sprint to the restroom, and as the stall doors closed, the call to board echoed through the airport. Talk about a tight ship, or in this case, a tight plane.

Premium Pleasures: From Row 19 with Love

While kids jostled in a distant queue, we discovered they were confined to row 35, leaving us to revel in the luxury of row 19—second-row royalty in Premium. Greeted by smiles and libations, Michele sipped on orange elixir, while I, the more refined of the two, indulged in prosecco. As we settled into our airborne thrones, the intoxicating realization that we were still on vacation lingered, highlighted by the generosity of two vodka bottles bestowed upon us.

A Culinary Expedition at 30,000 Feet

Dinner was served like a gastronomic symphony two hours into the flight—a tomato and mozzarella serenade followed by a duet of salmon and noodles for me, while Michele danced with chicken fajitas, conveniently skipping the salad (no surprises there). The crescendo, a lemon cheesecake finale, washed down with the harmony of merlot. Bellies content, it was time to be entertained, and what better than a serving of The Kingsman followed by an attempt at slumber. Michele claimed I snored, but what’s a journey without a serenade of sorts?

Breakfast: Where Cold Oats Meet Biscuit Dreams

As the cabin lights flickered on at an ungodly 04:30, breakfast appeared, a mix of cold oats with mango and coconut, and an American classic—a biscuit crowned with egg, sausage, and cheese. A breakfast, like an unexpected plot twist, left us longing for the comforts of home cuisine. Touched down in Manchester at 06:00, a clear sky greeted our return, 20 minutes ahead of schedule—proving that sometimes, even in the chaotic skies of travel, the universe smiles upon us.