We arrived at the MSP airport yawning and stretching our way out of the car. The Minnesota goodbyes were said, all 3 of them, and we made our way into the airport. A crowd of passengers greeted us as we quickly found a corner against a wall to wait the boarding announcements and do our best to wake up. After an hour of “patiently” waitin for a lightning delay after lightning delay, we were able to board the plane and lift off without a hitch.
The plane ride from MSP to ATL went well. Martin and Sully sat in the back row and provided for some optimal sleeping arrangements for Sully, while Kiera chatted up a storm with Sarah and surrounding passengers. Kiera’s first proclamation this morning, “It doesn’t even feel like it is 3pm in the morning!”
The lighting delays had a serious effect on our connection to Roatán. We arrived in Atlanta 15 minutes prior to our next flights departure. Once we were able to disembark from the plane we were left with a meager 10 minutes to sprint clear across the airport, hauling all our bags and hollering encouragement to one another. We booked it from 3 concourses, turning heads as what sounded like a stampede of flip-flopp wearing elephants tromped through the halls, up the escalators and across the conveyor belts. Sorry, no time for pictures… although I am sure you have a great mental image of what a debacle it was 
We turned the corner to enter the gate, expecting to find it vacant and the plane backing out… not so much the case. We were certainly the last ones boarding but we glad to see that there was one other couple just entering the gateway. The ticket attendants were shocked to see us, and couldn’t help for commenting on the sweat dripping down our beet-red faces. They kindly informed us that we had already been bumped from this flight, not expecting a young family of four, with two of the members being under the age of 5, to have made such good time across the airport from a lightning-delayed flight. There was much congratulations to Kiera for her valiant efforts and tireless sprinting. For had she not wanted or outright refused to run, we wouldn’t have made the departure from Atlanta.
The flight from ATL was quick and restless as Kiera and Sully anxiously anticipated our arrival in Roatán. The sun beat through the windows as we cruised 37,000 feet above sea level. Cozumel appeared out of the turquoise sea and confirmed our trajectory to our island destination. Sitting in the back of the plane has its perks and one of them is that you aren’t surrounded by people and a close second is we are the first stop for the food cart. Another perk some people experience is the ability to disembark the plane from the rear but was not the case for us. Last on, last off and the last ones in the line to go through customs.
Speaking of customs, it is generally a rule that you wait in line to have your bags checked and your import declarations reviewed. The snaking line of Tour-ons wove its way through the bustling and crowded caribbean airport and past the metal stanchions where we casually walked through, leaving the frantic crowds behind, making our way outside only to be greeted by the gauntlet of taxistas and beach resort escorts.
Courtney and Danika screeched with joy as they recognized the jet-lagged and weary travelers venturing to their humid, tropical paradise*.
