Rolling with Johnny Jet in Manhattan Beach

My trip to Melbourne was memorable. I only wish that it wasn't so damn far away! The flight was not bad, no delays and no lost baggage, but when I reached Holyoke at 1 am, I was ready for a long sleep in a familiar bed. It's great to be home!

I enjoyed a break between flights with traveling mate Johnny Jet, who graciously came and picked me up at LAX in his classy silver Benz and showed me his little slice of the world. His bachelor digs are a block from a gorgeous beach, where beach volleyballers play all day and the surfers mingle with dolphins out on the break. He showed me where Tiger Woods used to live, and we sat at an outdoor table for some breakfast burritos.

Comparing notes on past and future trips, I thought about how important it is to keep in touch with friends like Johnny and others who are in the GoNOMAD choir. I am always happy to recommend John for a trip because as anyone in this business knows, he is one of the hardest working travelers you'll ever meet. He does the same for us, and we appreciate it.

The travel web is about win-win deals, where helping others helps you. That's the new way of doing business that makes this whole thing so rewarding for us. We hope to collaborate with JJ on some new projects and I'm sure we will see him at future industry shows, because like us, he knows where to go to develop the contacts that keep him both in and on the air.

He Rides That Bad Boy Like a Cart in the Target Parking Lot

Johnny Jet is the most intrepid and continual traveler I think I know. Well maybe he can't beat GoNOMAD stalwart David Rich, who continously wanders the globe. But Johnny is always off somewhere. Here is a passage from his most recent missive about Cologne Germany, when he is walking through the airport to catch his flight from London.

"I was walking along at a pretty good clip when suddenly, a beautiful, well-dressed woman overtook me. She walked by me like I was using a walker or something, with a nasty smirk that implied, "You're in my way, slowpoke!"

Ooh! That ticked me off and triggered something inside me that hurtled me back in time to the road-rage days of my teenage years. With my jaw set firm, I watched her walking in front of me like she was all that, stepping on to the magic carpet without losing stride and picking up more speed.Not wanting to be made a fool, I quickly grabbed an abandoned luggage cart and rode that bad boy like I do the shopping carts in the Target parking lot.

Lucky me, there was a slight decline, so I picked up so much speed that I rode right past her, sticking my tongue out in jest as I rolled by. I'm not really sure where that came from but it was pretty funny, though her cold and stoic face implied that she didn't find it quite so amusing.

Anyhow, I learned that the carts in Europe aren't built like the ones at home. These things move ... I mean MOVE and are almost fast enough for the Autobahn. I was seriously cruising. In fact, I was going way too fast and before I knew it, I was losing control. I just remember being thankful that no other passengers were in front of me because just before I hit the wall (you knew that was coming, didn't you?), I jumped off and raked my ankle along the wheel.

My bags went flying. Ouch! Miraculously, I didn't accompany my bags as they went sliding along the ground. I not only mangled my ankle but made a complete ass of myself in the process. And guess who snickered at me as she stepped over my bags?