A great vacation ends with two hours in a truly horrible airport

Friggin' Miami.

If there is one airport I will be perfectly happy never to visit again in what remains of my life, it's Tony Montana International Airport.

Yeah, I know that's not its real name, but it was either that or Dave Barry. My lovely wife and I were returning home from 10 days in Jamaica, and since we were flying from Kingston and not Montego Bay, the only way to get to Atlanta was through Miami.

Jamaica, Mon.

Now I'm not the world traveler some folks are, but I have returned to the United States and cleared customs through at least five different airports.

The first four -- Washington, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Atlanta -- weren't much different from each other. Minor annoyances that hardly left me wanting to scream. But TMIA, aka Miami, was truly horrific.

Our flight from Kingston landed a little after 5 p.m. on a Tuesday. Our connecting flight to Atlanta was scheduled to depart at 7 p.m. We had to go through passport control, pick up the three bags we had checked, clear customs, return the bags to American Airlines, go through airport security and get to our gate.

Not impossible, but certainly no time to fool around.

Tony Montana International

We got off the plane and started following the signs to Passport Control. We walked ... and walked ... and walked. We walked so far that at one point I think we actually reached the Everglades. At least I thought I saw an alligator. It might just have been some loudmouth.

I am absolutely convinced we walked at least three-quarters of a mile before we reached our destination, a room filled with hundreds and hundreds of people.

Still, we made it through there and through the next couple of steps before 6 p.m., so I wasn't anticipating any problems. We even made it past the TSA people by 6:15, but when we took off for our departure gate, nobody told me it was in Key Largo.

Well, Homestead at least.

Meanwhile, my wife was in agony. She is still rehabbing from two spinal surgeries earlier this year, and the amount of walking we had to do was really too much for her. Thankfully, the last part of the trek we were able to take something called a Skytrain and we got to our gate 15 minutes before takeoff.

As the plane took off for Atlanta and Miami receded into the distance, I was relieved we had managed to escape one indignity at least. No one told me to say hello to his little friend, inside or outside the men's room.

***

Sorry to spend all that time on the end of the trip. Jamaica was very nice, and it was wonderful to see our daughter and her family. Pauline continues to be a rising star in the Foreign Service and Maddie and Lex, now 5 and 2, are wonderful kids and completely fascinating.

I don't mean to leave my son-in-law out. Ryan is a terrific husband and father, maybe the two most important things a guy can be.