It is a bus, or what riding cross country in a bus was like in the 1960's.
Come prepared. I bring something to eat, something to read, something to make me sleep, noise cancelling headphones. I pack light, just a back pack and overhead compatible roll-a-aboard.
Look at the price of the fare, figure you will pay twice that, and accept that it is still cheaper than other airlines.
For 2-3 hours from FFL to SJO or MDE, you can't beat it. They leave on time, they arrive on time. FFL is smaller and easier to get in and out of than Miami.
Sure, it is not the 1960s with the eye-candy stewardesses, people dressed nice and on their best behavior, good service, decent leg room, and nice meals. But then again, my dad, a unionized autoworker making $2.20 an hour, was able to afford a nice apartment in Manhattan, but could not afford 4-5 trips to exotic locales like I can today.
_________________ "I'm not one those pathetic lietuenant colonels working a silly civilian job, working out two hours a day trying to reclaim a body they lost 20 years ago and four hours a night completing War College by correspondence in a sad attempt at colonel. Tyler Durden told us [i]'Self improvement is masturbation[/i].' My mid-life crisis is going to involve a new sports car, or the zoftig redhead with daddy issues in accounting, or better yet, racking up frequent flyer miles going to Pattaya."
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