Web Log Entry #0028, Wednesday, January 1, 2003: Day 44
Anchorage Sunrise: 10:14am Sunset: 3:52pm High Temp: 11° Low Temp: 6°
I have returned. Anchorage is the way I left it, but colder. I was in Arizona only two days ago, where "Very Cold" means "Below 40º." I liked it there. Even when it was raining. My New Years Resolution to not whine about the cold here may not last long.
My flights were uneventful, which is how I like them. None of them involved spilling water in my lap, demonstrating that I'm capable of learning from past mistakes.
My taxi ride to the condo was the only thing that bordered on unusual. First, I exited the terminal with bags in tow to the transportation area, and there's a line of people. And no taxis. Outside temperatures were 9º, which could make getting a ride a competitive event where the losers are those forced to return to the terminal to defrost. Fortunately, the wait was only a couple minutes, and I quickly got my thankfully unfrozen body-parts into the cab.
So we're driving across Anchorage. Now, I've ridden in taxis only a few times in my life. So when my eye casually falls on the driver's picture, I'm initially amused about how the short, graying Asian-American driver would look like a tall, balding white guy in his picture. Then I get worried. Didn't I see this in a movie? Doesn't this mean that the driver is actually a spy, and he's going to kidnap me? Even though this is a really common thing in Mexico City, where feral taxicabs run wild and free, it's apparently not a problem in Anchorage. He doesn't drive the wrong way, whip out a gun, or try to sell me Amway. He takes me safely home, helps me unload my bags, and I gave him a generous tip. He probably thought it was for driving on the holiday, but it was also partly for not kidnapping me. Or pressuring me to buy household products at competitive prices.
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© 2003 Evan M. Nichols