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June 12th 2017
Published: June 13th 2017
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Your humble author waiting for check-in to open.
And so it begins again. Unfortunately I left the camera cable in my luggage so I can't post a photo from the airport but I will at least see if I can get this post published.

Updated Wednesday June 14 - the good news: I successfully uploaded a photo! The bad news: In trying to figure out how to actually insert it into my blog (which I still haven't accomplished) I somehow managed to lose my text edit. This learning process with travelblog (made even more frustrating because it's coinciding with getting used to my new chromebook) definitely sucks.

But I may have enough figured out to give things a go for now. To recap quickly:

I left Ottawa in a bit of a rush (my ride had arrived a few minutes early and I felt compelled not to make them wait) and consequently I left at least a water bottle behind (relax: it was only 1 of 2 I had intended to bring, and I managed to borrow an extra one from Linda when we stopped to collect her en route) - I still haven't figured out if there's anything else missing, but I am sure there is.

As I expected, we arrived at the Montreal airport so ridiculously early that we had to wait before we could even check in (processing starts only 4 hours before departure time, doncha know); fortunately (?) getting people's bikes scanned by security and then repacked took a while, and service was slow at the bar/restaurant so time passed relatively quickly. This was the first time I haven't brought my own food to eat prior to the flight, and much to my surprise the airport fare proved surprisingly good.

Once on board I discovered that during my year's hiatus from flying, the seating had become more cramped and the meals skimpier, but the entertainment was topnotch: I watched a movie (Arrival) and two very interesting television documentaries, one on materials research (including some startling breakthroughs in making mind-controlled prostheses) and another on record producers. Sleep, such as it was, was fitful at best.

Upon arrival we walked across the tarmac (which always makes me feel like we're in a scene from Casablanca) to the waiting busses that delivered us to the not-terribly efficient immigration agents who may have been frustrated by the number of passengers as well, inasmuch as they didn't ask me anything before letting me into the country.


13th June 2017

Pedalphile does NOT read well quickly.

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