My first
travel day started with an email message from Air Canada that my flight from
Vancouver to Toronto had been cancelled. Not the end of the world, they
kindly put me on a later flight giving me more time to peruse the delights of
the domestic terminal.
The
boarding pass issued by friendly Comox Valley Air Canada staff gave me flight
number and time, with the Gate Number a mystery. I have flown in and out
of YVR countless times and have almost exclusively been directed to one of two
gates for boarding and departure.
Checked
the monitor and saw that the flight was delayed, no gate designated.
I then
passed a leisurely three hours wandering from store to store, checking my
phone, people watching, texting... you know, killing time kind of stuff.
An hour
before my expected flight departure I checked the flight directory
monitor. Flight boarding. Gate 51? No Gate 51 in sight. I
start reading signs and realize it is located nowhere near the area that I
expected. I managed to Bugs Bunny it for the very long walk to the
very out of the way, mostly boarded plane. Miraculously there was an
overhead bin open that still had room for my carryon and jacket.
I then
became “that” passenger.
The one
that arrives late, rushed and disorganized to the (hated) middle seat of a
fully booked flight. I wedge my way into the seat and then proceed
to try and find phone, earbuds, water and my Kobo in my jam packed “personal
item” (read large purse replacement bag). Out came the sandwich I bought
for the flight, the notebook I am using to organize my trip, a set of
headphones, three cables (knowing one must surely be right)and the items
previously listed.
Search to
make sure I had my passport and wallet. Do I need anything else?
Back into the bag go most of my extracted items, in the wrong order of course
so they don’t fit. Out comes everything again while I repack. Need
to make sure my sandwich is on top...
The
passengers on either side were doing their best to maintain a calm, patient and
unbothered appearance. I apologize. I manage to cram my bag under
the seat without taking one of them out with my elbow. I search for my
seatbelt. Finally I settle and it seems that all is well...
Cue the
hot flash. Off comes the seatbelt. Up I get to open the overhead air
cooling and remove my sweater. I wiggle around to try put my sweater over
my shoulders, knowing it will be needed shortly. Back into my seat I
wedge myself, around I rummage for my seatbelt, more apologies, and then a deep
breath as I try and calm the nerves I have frazzled.
Not
counting the overhead bin opening on takeoff and the possibility that my bag
was going to take out the poor passenger seated in its projected path, it was a
smooth flight.
Toronto,
what do you have in store for me this time?
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