Long Distance Travel

On September 16, 2014, I lost 9 hours of the day.   That is what happens when you cross an ocean.   But it sure doesn't feel like it, especially when I spent most of that day awake.  This is the glamour of travel, I thought, as I repositioned my pillow against the window and wrapped the airplane blanket around my legs.

In many ways, I chose my flights wisely.  I was determined not to begin my trip exhausted by getting up at some unfriendly hour.  I also wanted to arrive during the daylight.  I caught my first flight in Victoria at 9:30 am and arrived in Barcelona at 6:30 pm the next day, a total of about 14 hours in the air.  The longest flight of the four that I took was 9 hours from Dallas, Texas to London, England.  

Flight from Victoria to Vancouver - You can see the right arm of our pilot.  That is one small plane.

I was a bit nervous about taking such a long flight, having never done it before.  But somewhere along the way, I realized that I had already done 12 hour Greyhound trips.  On this one, they feed you - twice!  And serve drinks.   But then I thought, that is a long time to be flying above water.  And actually, it was only a few hours.  There was a good deal of time flying over Canada.  

Dallas to London - Boeing 767.  That is one huge plane.

Still there was a phenomenon, I had a time wrapping my head around - I was actually in the air that entire time.  This reminds me of a Louis C.K. video I saw.  It is quite astonishing that we can be sitting in a chair in the sky.

Now I have landed.  I was so excited to be horizontal.  And after being awake for most of the day and night, I was exhausted.  An hour after falling asleep, I was awake.  I was wakeful for most of the night, like most of the people I know in Canada.  I was on Canadian time.  Eventually I did sleep.  I am in a wonderful home in Barcelona, found on AirBnB; the transition has been a delight.  

I have been up and about now for 4 hours but feel like I am just getting going.  According to iPhone's World Clock, it is about 4 am in Victoria.  

Well, perhaps time won't be a big matter on my trip.  Apparently people from Barcelona, called Catalonians, like the night life.  Yesterday's grocery store that I went to is open until 2 am.  

I explored the neighbourhood last evening in my typical fashion.  My host drew me a map to a great restaurant and the market.  I promptly got lost, walked several blocks out of my way until I found the grocery store she mentioned, bought myself water and some food.  On my way home, I found the restaurant but I was so tired, hot and bedraggled that I really couldn't see myself sitting at their table.  I just want to say that by not going into that restaurant, I saved Canadians' reputation.  

Blue skies are calling me outside.  After a day spent mostly inside planes, airports and waiting areas, I am grateful to wander where I can.  

What Happens in Denver

The skies were a brilliant blue when I woke up on Tuesday morning, the kind of day that is inspiring and full of possibilities. My flight was later in the afternoon so I had some time to linger on the island. After two days of blustery weather, a regular pattern it seems, the wind was calm.

I went to the East side of the island, which I could see every morning from my hotel room.



Then off to breakfast. I decided on the Hidalgo Cafe after a lovely review from Wendy and Paul. There I sat with Chris who shared a table with me and was on her way to the beach. I chose a ham and cheese crepe:


Note the glass of orange juice to the right. I had a hard time choosing between sweet or savoury so I had both. My second crepe was apple and cinnamon. Both were amazing.

I went off to Adriano's studio, having made some fairly vague arrangements for 10 am. Adriano is a night time kinda guy so the early morning arrangement was not favourable. He was as surprised to see me as I was to see him. He decided that the piece of art needed another layer of paint on it; it had a strong smell when I picked it up. What is it, I asked. Fibreglass. Not quite what I imagined. He packaged it up.

A couple of other stops (a half litre of orange juice for the road), and some good instructions from Gabriel on my transportation to the airport. My journey to the airport went well! Despite some definite language issues, confusion about my departing terminal (all of the other occupants of the bus got off the bus in one location - not mine), and a rather insistent cab driver who wanted to offer me a "good price" to the airport. After checking in, I went out into the Yucatan sunshine and drank my Starbucks and orange juice.

On the plane, I sat with two "Spring Breakers," young women who spent the last week in Cancun, and they told me of their many adventures. During the last couple of hours of the 4-hour flight, we watched our free TV. Looking back, I can see the clues of what was coming ahead. The weather channel was focussed on Denver.

During our descent, we had the next clue. A gigantic flash of light outside our window, and our lights went out. All was quiet. There was white all around us - clouds, snow, fog. We landed. The captain came on the speaker system to tell us that there would be a delay in disembarking because of a backlog in planes. He also told us that the flash was lightening; it hit our plane. We sat on the tarmac. My seat companions and I contemplated what this might mean to our connecting flight - our waiting was cutting into the time we needed to be at the next gate. An hour passed.

Out of the plane, we rushed to customs. Wait in line. "Where have you been? How long have you been gone?". Wait, wait, wait for luggage. Recheck luggage. Catch train to next terminal. Find gate. The plane has been delayed until 12:29 am. 2 l/2 hours.

I find Jimmie's Bar and Grill, one of the only places open in Denver airport. I order caesar salad and a chicken panini. The caesar salad is the best that I have ever had in my whole entire life! I calculate the number of hours since my crepes - 13.... I pack up l/2 of the panini and go back to the gate. The flight has been delayed to 12:43 am.

I look out the window.



10:45 pm: We wait. Quiet. Announcement: "Flight 38 to Spokane has been cancelled. Please proceed to the customer service desk to rearrange your travels." I hear the Frontier agent talk to another passenger - there is another customer service area being opened.

11:15 pm: I find the end of the lineup between Gates 42 and 44. All flights have been cancelled coming into and leaving Denver. I hear an announcement: "For passenger information, there are blankets and sleeping pads by baggage claim." I meet Justin who is trying to rebook on his computer. K is on his way to Seattle. Sierra is going home to Portland; she spent the last 5 hours on a bus from Boulder to Denver, normally a one-hour ride. We inch forward. We place our bags on the ground. The woman ahead of me studies. "How can we turn this into an opportunity," we laugh.

12:30 am: My feet are tired. I decide to sit on the ground, as do my companions. Some people lie down between the infrequent moves forward.

1:15 am: A woman comes by and says that there are more customer service agents in another part of the airport. We send a scout. The woman ahead of me says, "I don't know if I am ready to go to another ticket counter. I feel committed to this one." Indeed we have a lot of investment here.

1:30 am: Our scout returns - nothing any better than what we have now.

1:45 am: We see the front of the line, and the customer service agents. They look tired. Hair askew.

2:30 am: "Next please." This is for me. "The next flight to Spokane is at 8:35 am, but it is all booked. I can put you on standby. The next guaranteed seat I can give you is 9:35 pm - 19 hours away." The other choice is buying a ticket on another airline. I take my two boarding passes - for the standby and for the evening flight. I am 7th on the standby list.

2:35 am: Sierra's next guaranteed flight is 8 days away; she is 44th on standby. I hear about a woman who is getting married in Las Vegas the next day, and cannot get a flight. I call the hotel reservations; there are no rooms available within an hour of Denver airport. I hear later that people who did have hotel rooms could not find transportation to get there.

3:00 am: I sit on the airport chairs - ones with arms. Other than upright, there are no other positions to sleep on these. I find a spot on the ground between two benches, place my head on my backpack full of square objects. I open my carryon bag. A waft of fibre glass reaches my nose - I decide not to use the beach towel in there. Besides it is sandy and salty; too stiff for a pillow.

4:05 am: The trio on the bench beside me wake up. And start talking. I get up and move to another spot. This is my pattern until 6 am. There are people lying everywhere. Babies. Children. Old people curled up together. Others walking, some reading, and some with their computers and cellphones plugged into receptacles.

At 6 am, the airport comes more alive. I look at the schedule; Spokane to depart at 9:50 am. I go to Hudson's News; I buy a book, Sudoku, pen, and emery boards - a couple of broken fingernails since I left Cancun - just because I feel terrible doesn't mean I need to look it. I find Sierra again, and we talk about our night. Spokane is delayed again. We are told that the plane will be in at 10:35 am, but no problem because it will be empty. I talk to many people - Jan is from Nelson. A woman is on her way to meet her fiancee's family in Spokane; she keeps them posted by cell phone.

At 11:45 the plane arrives, full of passengers, one who is quite rowdy. We have to wait for the police to escort him off the plane. I ask the Frontier agent where I am on the standby list. I am #6.

At 12:15 pm, they begin loading the plane. There are many, many people getting aboard. Disheartening. They call a man's name. I am now #5. The agents scramble with their computers. At last, an announcement, "we have spaces for standby. We are figuring out how many."

Rawson... Patricia.

I leap out of my seat, tears welling up.

Once we get in the air, the view of our world shifts. Sun shines. Joyful passengers! I sleep all the way to Spokane. I am alert when I get there; driving home seems doable. I shop, and leave Spokane at 5:30 pm.

I arrive home at 8:15 pm. The cat is very happy. Me too. I change into my pajamas. The clothes I shed have been on me for 36 hours. I tally up the number of hours that I spent in Denver - 17 - all of it waiting. The next day at work, Christine asks me how would I rate myself for how I did?

An A. Definitely.

The Arrival Day

I have landed! It seems an eternity ago since I dragged the suitcase that was staying behind to my car, and found my red Civic entirely frosted. I pondered whether to leave that great Kootenay water in the car or take the risk that the glass bottle might break. And now I am sitting in my short-sleeved shirt and sandals, and totally enjoying the warm wind. It is windy here this evening, as was the ferry ride over, which made for a choppy ride. I met a couple from Denver in the line up for the bus, and we travelled here together. I had the benefit of their information that they got from their landlords on Isla Mujeres. And they got the benefit of my Spanish (imagine that!)

They had a map of Isla Mujeres and there was no reading it on the ferry ride. The minute I started reading, everything was aswirling.

I caught the 6:15 plane out of Spokane, and had a fine day despite getting up at some unearthly hour. The couple in the Spokane hotel room above me had a late night, arriving in at 1:00 pm and then showering. After a while there was some rhythmic noises which continued for a rather lengthy amount of time. Still, it is good that they were having a good time. Between the neighbours and a stupid early wake-up call, it was a short night.

Most of this day was about travelling - there were many, many others doing the same. It seems that it is not too hard to fill a plane to Cancun.

When I got to Cancun, I decided to take the bus to downtown Cancun and then a cab to the Puerto Juarez, the ferry terminal. This is the most economical way to get from the airport. And the bonus was that it was one of those big tour buses - very comfy. I shared the cab ride with Greg and Rachel (from Denver) and saved even more money!

After checking into my new pad - I am going to wait until the sun shines before I give a review - I do have cable TV! And lovely clean white sheets!

Dinner was camarones al ajo - fresh caught from ocean - this is the way to have shrimp (and of course garlic). I have my aqua purificada and am ready to be horizontal.

Remember the smell of the ocean? That´s my biggest surprise of the day....

Compress and Decompress

Packing to take this journey to Winnipeg, I thought about the tasks involved. During the last few days, I considered what clothes to bring, and what to leave, especially as I am wanting to pick my outfits. (I am presenting at the Pan Canadian Symposium for Career Development and Public Policy.) I eventually decided on the bigger suitcase, and a wheeled carryon as I did not have a direct flight, and would be spending a few hours in Calgary. All of my belongs for 8 days I was piling into those two pieces of luggage. From an apartment full of my everyday needs, I was now compacted into these two bags.

When I arrived at the airport, and went through security, I was instructed to bring out the computer and any fluids (I had ink), and lots of my items were spread in plastic tubs. Through the x-ray, and then I was back to putting everything back together.

Before I got on the plane, a Dash 8, I realized my carryon would not fit in the overhead compartments nor under my seat so I Sky-checked my bag, taking out the computer and my Nintendo for the hour flight to Calgary. I organized and reorganized. And when I arrived in Calgary, I put everything back into the carryon.

My layover in Calgary was 4 hours so I decided to go to the food court and had to go to the outer area. i then had to go through security. Again, my belongings were pulled out of their storage spaces, for the security people to see. This time they found scissors that I had brought in the knitting pouch. I understand that they will be donated to a church.

Back in the waiting area, I thought of the travelling experience. Compression and decompression. And that's the way I will live for the next 8 days.

What I Brought Home

It is always interesting the things there are in the city, and that come home with me. We made a trip to Costco, which I rarely do, and I got BIG things because that is what Costco sells. We stopped in Creston and I got a bag of apples (anybody got any apple recipes because I was shopping as if I had children at home) - perhaps I shall have an apple dinner... appetizers, main course and dessert, made of apples. I also bought a gallon of apple juice - this is a large amount of apple juice.

The most unforgettable thing I brought home was - a cold. Unforgettable because most of my days since I got home on Monday, I have been consumed with sneezing, and blowing and finding quick-fix remedies. Because.... tomorrow I catch a plane, and I don't want a congestion headache on that baby.

Though I technically got this cold in Lethbridge, it really is a Nelson cold, by my figuring. Elizabeth's son also came to visit for the Thanksgiving weekend; the first morning he woke up, he was sniffling and looking dragged out; looks like he brought it with him from Nelson where we both live. So I went away to a new land, and came home with a local cold. Go figure.

Sometimes colds can have their own entertainment. This one has its own pecularities in that I am in a constant state of wanting to sneeze. So as I am talking to people, I am making faces and scrunching up my nose - sometimes I am twitching it, like the daughter in Bewitched. Well, if I had a wish, it would to be not having a twitching nose. I am off now to find a decongestant. In about 12 hours, I will be on a plane. I'll keep you posted.

Winding My Way Home

Leaving the Sunshine Coast on the Queen of Surrey, we went on the top deck, and found a breeze.



For Aimee

Proof that the sky is still blue - there is hope for your holidays - this is inspiration for bathing suit shopping. The shot was taken on the wet day I left the lower mainland.



Spotted Lake

On the journey home, I stopped at the small water hole just outside of Osoyoos that always looks quite strange. When driving by, we can clearly see the circles on top of the lake; depending on the time of the year, those circles change. I found out that it has a name - Spotted Lake. Spotted Lake is a sacred medicine lake of the Okanagan People.

"It is a rare natural phenomenon covering 15.2 hectares (38 acres), containing one of the world's highest concentrations of minerals: magnesium sulfate (epsom salts), calcium and sodium sulfates, plus eight other minerals and traces of four more, including silver and titanium. As the summer progresses the lake dries out, its mud forming into white, pale yellow, green and blue circles depending on its mineral composition. Known as Kliluk to the natives of the Okanagan Valley, the lake is a sacred and culturally significant site whose potential for commercial exploitation recently generated much controversy."

The controversy has to do with the healing properties of the water.

Here it is close up:



Palindrome

This goes into the category of "ways to amuse myself on a road trip."




Paulson Mountain

Over the Blueberry Paulson, there is a special mountain that we get to see for 3 brief glimpses; the view is most spectacular on the way home, though it is quite elusive for the clouds like to linger. Rare is it to catch the view but this trip I did:

To the Coast

On May 31st, I left Nelson to travel to the coast. The day began bright and sunny, an inspiring drive.



The first mountain pass is about an hour for home. Here is the top:



Descending from the Paulson Summit, the next community is Christina Lake. The land offers the lake in a spectacular surprise; the road winds around a corner, and then the lake pops into view. This sight can only be viewed one way. The charm of driving in the mountains is that the road looks completely different going the other way.


There are 5 mountain passes between Nelson and the lower mainland. Mountains everywhere.

In front:


And behind:

Today's Journey Home

When I awoke this morning, I had one of those Han Solo moments... "I have a bad feeling about this." The headache that had been playing tag with me for the past few days announced itself early. I actually accomplished a lot before I realized that even moving was a challenge. I worked very hard to focus on the 11 am client, and 40 minutes later, I knew that horizontal was the only choice. When I left the office, I had one of those slow walks where I tried to move as little as I could. I had, luckily, brought the car to work so I only had to make it to the parkade. Barely doable. I rested in the car before I wound my way up the hill.

And then I had 3 naps.

I woke up shortly before dinner time, but still was feeling the lingering effects. And then I remembered my mother's modeling for getting well. I cleaned. And I organized. And I finished the knitting project which was requested by BJ. It is a shawl, made with mohair.




It is one shawl that has been around. The yarn was bought in Winnipeg (Ram's Wool), sent to Nelson, and will be shortly sent to its home (for now) in Bellingham.











Apparently I have similar symptoms to those who have had the flu. I am off to find my Vitamin C. But with my house all tidied and (mostly) clean, it doesn't have a chance.