We have arrived. Finally.

Our journey began at the obscene hour of 3:45a on Friday, when we left for the airport. Upon arrival at SFO, the Delta agent informed us that our flight was cancelled due to a mechanical problem. While this was unfortunate, Delta redeemed itself by putting us on the next flight, all in first class, in time to make our original connection. The Pinks were in heaven. I told them not to get used to it. They watched Nick; I watched The Reader. (Amazing, movie.)

Our New York to Malaga flight had a mechanical issue, too. We boarded, sat on the tarmac two hours and unboarded. Eventually another aircraft was found and after a new crew showed up, we finally left New York. Here's the funny thing: you know how you wouldn't think of talking to random people on planes while you travel for business? It's a whole different ballgame when you're on vacation and have six hours to kill while the airline tries to figure out what to do with you. The Pinks actually had a good time while the adults fretted ... well, until the last hour when they were so exhausted they were beside themselves. It didn't much matter that we were in coach as all of us slept from the moment we fastened our seatbelts until we landed in Malaga.

So we arrived at dinner Saturday instead of at lunch. Hil, Neeracha and their families had already settled in, fortunately. We had a second wind by then and pulled it together for a casual tapas dinner in town, which was very good. My parents arrived at dinnertime as well but did not join us as they'd had a long day of travel from Madrid.

Rancho del Ingles is beautiful and also more rustic than we'd envisioned. There's quite a bit of land surrounding the houses so the kids freely wander the property chasing lizards and picking lemons and plums. There are avocados here somewhere although we haven't found them yet.