#6 - OHHH CANADA....

Dear Dubrovnik,

To continue on where I left off has taken some MAJOR editing. Like I wrote two solid, single-spaced pages by the light of my overhead book lamp on my super late flight. SO at the advice of Sego, and Megan who I'll introduce you to later, I will learn to condense.

There are five important employees I met at AirCanada that determined my mood during my needle-in-a-haystack search for my next plane. 1. The first impression. 2. Bad name. 3. Helpful fellow. 4. Hates his job, and 5. Angel. There were many other folks involved but don't merit a whole story, which I'll indicate by a + or -. So, after gathering my carry on from a baggage claim – no idea why that was considered too big, I headed out the glass doors, and immediately had a right and left option. I looked left and a women with the red handkerchief (1. The first impression) promptly said “You can't go that way.(-)” This was quickly followed by three business-folk whispering and waving me over to the correct doors and escalators.(+3) I then parted ways from them only to be scolded for not knowing where I was going?(-1)

Then I found the customs kiosk employee ( 2. Bad name) and approached with a big smile and a heart-felt hello, and was told I wasn't allowed to approach, and then was told I was being too slow, and handing over the wrong things and having my passport sheathed, and not answering quick enough. (-5) I was pretty overwhelmed. SO, I headed down to baggage claim as my customs agent directed me there. Twenty or so minutes later, (3. Helpful fellow) approached me to see if he could help and he proceeded to explain my bag was already heading to my next destination.(+3) Sigh of relief and a bit of frustration I proceeded to the final check where we had to drop our declaration, and silly me assumed a passport would go along with that when I cheerfully said hello to ( 4. Hates his job,) who proceeded to act as though I had done the most repulsive action by being mistaken.(-4) Only Human! He refreshed my weary eyes and I found it hard to speak as I rounded the next corner to be among throngs of loved ones gathering up their families and friends. I found (5.Angel) and attempted to ask directions through a sore throat and he directed me to the right area. (+2) I then dealt with three more people and one unkind mother while trying to find out where to go. (Mind you every person I've mentioned WORKS AT AirCanada, with the exception of the mother.)(+1)(-3)(+2)(-4). (Rating my AirCanada experience at a solid 2).

Now literally freaking out, I was approached by a nervous father, his three kids and one nephew, who was an unaccompanied minor. Long, long, long story short, I ended up serving as a temp. guardian for Milo so he too could go on the flight to get home to his family, and I figured I'm going too so why not...? A UN person took him away. After all of this, I have fifty minutes to get from my line to my plane seat. The line snaked the length and width of a football field with people traversing every inch. Going through security I got stuck behind the one woman who smuggled 4lbs of BBQ sauce in her carry on. And no, not one item, were talking almost a whole suitcase of things that weren't legal. Flight is departing at 18:45, and it's 18:20, and I'm jog/running to my gate. In line, down the tarmac and to my seat. Could. Not. Believe. I. Made. It.

This is where I met the lovely Megan who I shared my international flight with. She could attest to my ability to attract mean people. I had a flight attendant try to get me to put my under the seat bag over head, and when I made it fit below, she just took my purse and tossed it up there as a “I still win” gesture. Megan's seat Tv was broken 99% of our trip so we shared stories, and bad travel experiences, and joked about life and passion for running. Then we had an in flight dinner with complimentary toy-sized red or white wine bottles. I think I slept for about thirty mins around 2:00AM, or 4:00AM, and woke in time to catch the glorious over cloud sunrise. The last verbatim entry I have was from the flight at night. Currently at 39,000 feet high, going 3,464 miles to our destination, at 617 mph, with the temps at a whopping -70.6° below zero. It's 12:10 AM EST, and it's 6:10 AM Brussels time. All I can say for now is despite my journeys middle leg being rather unpleasant and frustrating, I still think flight is beautiful. The Bernoulli principal of flight is a marvelous one, and it makes sense, but not when I see planes weighing hundreds of thousands of pounds flying. They are not birds, they are not light weight. WHY DO THEY FLY? And you may be wondering – as far the view out my window goes- the night may hide a world, but it reveals a universe. 
Sunrise over the clouds

Looking down on the sky
Well, I've been up since 6AM Wed. morning, so that's 24... 36...40 hours. Guess I'll go to bed. ;) Rest up Dubrovnik and plan for some good weather!

See you soon!


  1. I thoroughly enjoyed the read. I'm glad you were able to find some respite on the plane.

  2. Hi plane-mate! It's been fun reading your blog. It's so weird to see your Brussels and Bruges pictures and some of the same spots my husband and I went. I think we were in Bruges the day after you, trailing your shadow!

    Anyway, you inspired me to create my own travel blog: http://megburdick.blogspot.com/

    I'm sorely behind in posting. I hope you're having the time of your life in Dubrovnik! Sounds like you are. :)


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