Arrival at SFO

We sit awaiting the Hertz rental charabanc. A ‘car’ seating eight with space for all the excessive baggage. No one believes this until we see it. We are veterans of car hire disappointments.

We are however relieved at having successfully raced and beaten most fellow passengers to the daunting queues at passport control and immigration,  and triumphantly relieved at having won the second mad dash off the train to the car rental queues. It’s an exhausting business, arrivals.

SFO is also, contrary to initial observations from R that it ‘is no bigger than Leeds-Bradford, really..” clearly bigger than many airports we have passed through. R has now upgraded his point of reference to CDG, Paris. We’re not sure why. Seems bigger than that one too.

Anyway, it’s big.

And soon we have to navigate our way out.

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