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Published: April 21st 2017
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Reasons to go home
My boy Riley with one of his favourite cat friends, Debbie's Livy. Wanna talk about yer mixed blessings!
By the way, the photos are not terribly relevant. But they do break up the monotony of the print!!
Good flight from London, left on time, comfortable, etc. Arrive in TO to find airport in such chaos that we are met at the end of the jetway by immigration officers checking everyone's passports right there! That's never happened before. Then we get to go through immigration AGAIN at the usual spot, then baggage claim - where it seems to take forever to get our bag, then out into freedom.
Then turn left and go straight back into the chaos of the baggage recheck for connecting flights. Huge long line which shortened abruptly when the officials at the head of the line realized practically everyone in the line already had luggage labels on their bags for their final destinations.
Okay, not bad. Not great, either, but that's travel. As we are waiting, i notice an departures board. It lists our flight as being 2.5 hours delayed already! This is 3 hours before we are even scheduled to leave. Trouble, maybe?
Since we have the time, we go upstairs to the Westjet
Your host - me!
Complete with not-quite cowboy hat, pleased-with-himself grin and Madrid in the background. An old photo, but everyone needs a visual!! customer service people and ask about other flights. Our 615 is now set for 845 p.m. They could get us on the 8 o'clock but that's already delayed until 820. So far.
TO Pearson is doing some major runway resurfacing which delays flights somewhat during clement weather. During inclement weather, and it is raining cats and dogs, you can stuck for a long time. Today is one such day.
WestJet is apparently working pretty hard to accommodate delayed passengers. They offer us our choice of Friday's flights with NO transfer fee. Well, it doesn't get much better than that. So we book into Sheraton Airport and collapse.
Just as well as Susan is so tired that she needs my help to open the door as we are leaving the room. AND she has a conference call at 9 A.m. Friday. If we got into Edmonton at 1130 Alberta time (630 a.m. London or my brain time), we would both be wrecks.
And when I looked at the WestJet site at 730 Ontario time, the NEW flight time was 11: 33 p.m. Or 5.25 hours late.
God only knows that time it actually was able to leave. Arriving in Edmonton at 2 a.m. - 9 a.m. London time - was neither necessary more desirable!!!!
So here we are full of espresso and breakfast - the Sheraton club room here does a lovely breakfast buffet, including eggs, bacon, pancakes, maple syrup, fresh fruit, pastries, etc, etc., all run by a wonderful woman who looked after everybody at once. She was great!
Susan is already on her first call of the day- to Lianne Lefsrud about creative sentencing- and we have had a good night's sleep. Call 2 will be in about an hour and we can take our time. 2 p.m. Checkout and430 flight. Great.
Plus a chance for me to deal with some leftovers from the trip.
1. Wow! Talk About Your Legalisation!!
At the Six Bells pub on our last night in Gatwick, our charming Serbian server, Milos, became a little confused about the proper names of English desserts. Apparently, the creme brûlée was finished and the replacement was
pot au chocolat, pretty much a fancy chocolate pudding. Milos paused, looked concerned as he sought for the right phrase, and then announced with a huge triumphant smile that the new dish was "chocolate pot!"
Take that, Trudeau government marijuana guys! Talk about being a step ahead. Those Brits, huh? No wonder they had an Empire.
2. In the category of "Well, if it's any comfort to you, dear . . ." The winner is:
We decided to upgrade coming home. That means we get a free glass of champagne while still on the ground. I understand most people drink theirs. I decided that I would also apply mine externally and managed to knock it over with my newspaper. It didn't actually land squarely in my lap, mostly pouring into the gap between the edge of the seat and my right thigh. It immediately spread under my leg and my frantically twisting around to try and wipe it up with a tiny little cocktail napkin only opened new places for it to go. Flight attendant to the rescue and we managed to keep one half of my butt dry.
Noon, on the verge of an eight hour flight, and contemplating spending the next 15 hours in sticky wool pants, Susan leans over and offers this words of consolation: "Well, at least it was champagne!"
3.Prior to this mishap, the flight attendant had offered me a copy of the National Post. Sure, said I cleverly, ever the witty one. I'll take a copy, I could use the laughs. And there on the front page is the announcement that Donald T. Rump thinks Canada is a disgrace for its protectionism of its dairy industry. Maybe the headline should have been "American President Has a Cow over Canada."
At least , I got my laugh!
4. Oh, how I love good English beer
For the names if nothing else. In the last couple of trips, I have been able to order "a pint of Rebellion," thoroughly enjoyed a hand-pulled glass of Doom Bar, and been told that I would enjoy the authentic, real ale taste of both Spitfire and - love this! - Bishop's Finger.
5. Tiny, tiny French toilets
The French like to hide the toilet in a room of its own, away from the main bathroom. I believe the reason is to keep the smells away from the rest of the place. The fact that there is never any ventilation in the toilet room may make that reasoning self-fulfilling but you can see why they might want to go that route. They also, however, generally squeeze the "seat of ease" into what was probably meant to be a broom closet and which never has enough room for even minimal comfort. If there is enough room for your knees, there is not enough for your elbows, and vice versa. I will not bore you further with the contortions required of me in the Nice apartment, but merely indicate that it was the one barely tolerable flaw in an otherwise wonderful space.
I will mention that I have short legs and stand a mere five-nine on my tall days. My long-legged nephews would have had a nightmare time of it!
6. Dehydrated Scotch, just add water
I haunted duty free yesterday, trying to find "cask strength" single malt Scotch. Cask strength is about 60%!a(MISSING)lcohol and pretty much undrinkable without adding water. Hence the "dehydrated booze" thing. Because you add water to bring it to 40 %!,(MISSING) and then mix as you like a bottle lasts me about two years, compared to the 12 months for normal proof. AND it fits all the criteria for bringing lawful booze into the country. A 1.14 litre (32 oz.) bottle stays below the duty payable limit, and provides the same level of luxury as 48 ounces of the other stuff.
Sadly, while the Gatwick duty free staff remember it fondly, they no longer stock any. Rats.
7.Michelle, my wonderful lawyer friend from Victoria, wrote to say that she had been reading my blog! She said some lovely things about it which I read while sitting in Starbucks at Gatwick. I was so excited to think that anyone was reading me that I had to tell the two women at the next two tables: "Someone is reading my blog! And she likes it!"
They laughed. Thank GOD for other people having a sense of humor
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