The flight to San Diego was late, but uneventful. We called the hotel at about ten minutes to midnight and they said, "Sure, we'll send the shuttle." It never came. When I called back a half-hour later, they said that the shuttle drivers had gone home and we should take a cab and they would pay the driver at the desk.
Except that none of the cab drivers would agree to do that. After about four phone calls to the hotel, the driver at the back of the line decided he could actually make some money and took us.
We got a coupon for a room-service breakfast for our trouble, which was better than it might have been.
Our room has a view of a roof and another hotel, but Jeff and Carol's room has a lovely view of the bay and the ship that we're sailing on. In a few minutes, we'll be rolling the luggage over to the terminal.
So far, so good.