I packed up almost everything last night - and may or may not have a spider stowaway in my luggage. (Tried to shake the darn thing out, but it kept running around and climbing back in.) Originally, I'd been booked on an 8 a.m. flight out of London (wasn't thinking, obviously, of how early I'd have to get to the airport) - thank goodness Air Canada changed my itinerary to a flight leaving at 11:05.
Monica and I left the house at 7:45 a.m.; she was going to accompany me to Paddington station, where I could board the Heathrow Express, and she could continue on her way to the British Library. Took Jubilee to Baker Street, and transferred trains no problem. However, the Paddington station is old. Picturesque, maybe, but a pain in the @$$ when you're hauling luggage. Between the tube stop and train station, I had to haul my luggage up and down six separate flights of stairs. Ridiculous. No need to go to the gym when you're travelling through London. Fortunately for Monica, N&G will be here when she's leaving, and Neil will probably give her a ride to Paddington.
So at the Paddington train station, I bought my Heathrow Express ticket (goodbye £14!), and then handed over the rest of my coins (cause the Canadian banks won't exchange coins) and £5 besides (cause Monica wanted it). Then we had a tearful goodbye - me, because I had no more money and was heading home to the Collaborative (eek!), and Monica because this meant she'd have to spend the rest of her time catching up on her research. A sad moment for us both. :'-(
When the train arrived at Terminal 3 at Heathrow, wouldn't you know it, but the elevators weren't working. !!! Bystanders were treated to a colourful display of Canadian swearing as I tackle two more flights of stairs. (Don't worry - they probably thought I was American.)
Did the automated check-in thing, and now I've got two hours to wait for my plane. On the positive side, though, Heathrow has many shops and stores. I saw several different versions of Harrods, shoe stores, souvenir shops, cafes. I stopped at La Brioche Doree (even after nearly two weeks in London, I still want the french treats!) and bought a chocolate croissant and Coke with my last £5 bill, and read my People magazine.
You're not supposed to go to your departure gate until it's listed on the notice boards, so that was about 10:00, and we started boarding at 10:30. The plane left the gate right on time at 11:05; however, there was probably another 10 minutes of taxi-ing down the runways and taking our place in the take-off queue. Heathrow is a boxy, extremely functional-looking airport, but there is major air traffic coming and going. I kept looking out the window at all the other planes lining up. Some very large British Airway planes, a green Irish plane, and a few American Airlines.
When we took off, you could see a white haze over London. A lot of bright sunny days, I'd noticed that it was still kind of hazy - very rarely clear. When we were checking the weather every day, the pollution index was always listed as moderate, so I guess that's what it was.
Oh yay, a 7-hour flight. Lots of Canadian soldiers on the flight - I was sitting next to one who was returning from three months in Dubai. Ryan was originally from Saskatchewan, and in the Communications branch of the Reserves, but didn't recognize George's name. (Maybe you'd already left by that time, George.)
So, how to spend the next 7 hours? Eat the hot chicken meal, watch the airplane version of "Rumour Has It" with censored dialog, such as "He's just a horny butthead." (Somehow I doubt that was the original line.) Definitely a lightweight film, but Shirley MacLaine is great. "Annie Hall" was on next, but I wasn't really interested, so tried to sleep for a while. Wake up, and eat some pizza. Keep looking at watch, hit the call button (it's not like the flight attendants ever actually show up to see what you want), and keep asking, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"
Eventually, we are there. Toronto Airport is borrrriiiiiinnnnnggggg. Why was I in such a hurry to get here? I get my new Blundstone boots shined up, since they got pretty scuffed in London with all the walking we did, and that's about it for excitement. Oh well - at least it's only a 2-hour wait (when I was returning from Paris, I was stuck here for over 6 hours). It's a pretty airport with lots of windows, but why oh why is there no Internet cafe? I am surrounded by Blackberry users, who look very smug as they send and receive their emails. Since I have no Blackberry, I stare at my shiny boots instead.
Finally, my little Air Canada flight arrives. The Toronto-Saskatoon plane is a lot smaller, and a wee bit more cramped than the London-Toronto Boeing 767, but the important thing is that we're leaving. Good riddan- er, I mean, goodbye, Toronto! And I luck out and don't have anyone sitting next to me. Hahahaha - I push up the armrest and become a seat hog! Everyone else is jealous.
The flight arrives about 25 minutes early, which means that Patricia is not waiting for me, which means there is no phony, joyful reunion. I am miffed. However, no one else has any joyful reunions either, cause nobody is sitting in the airport waiting for a plane to come EARLY. That's just unheard of. However, Patricia is pleased, cause this means she doesn't have to pay for parking. She pauses in the taxi stand, I throw my luggage in, and we make our escape!
And it's a nice sunny day in Saskatoon - always a good thing to come home to nice weather. The trees are finally green, and it looks like I actually need to mow my lawn.
My neighbour's house STILL is not sold. It's been on the market since January - she's already moved out and it's sitting empty. At $168,900, nobody is biting. Looks like she's finally dropped the price to $164,800, but no deal yet. So, not too much has changed around here!
Monica and I left the house at 7:45 a.m.; she was going to accompany me to Paddington station, where I could board the Heathrow Express, and she could continue on her way to the British Library. Took Jubilee to Baker Street, and transferred trains no problem. However, the Paddington station is old. Picturesque, maybe, but a pain in the @$$ when you're hauling luggage. Between the tube stop and train station, I had to haul my luggage up and down six separate flights of stairs. Ridiculous. No need to go to the gym when you're travelling through London. Fortunately for Monica, N&G will be here when she's leaving, and Neil will probably give her a ride to Paddington.
So at the Paddington train station, I bought my Heathrow Express ticket (goodbye £14!), and then handed over the rest of my coins (cause the Canadian banks won't exchange coins) and £5 besides (cause Monica wanted it). Then we had a tearful goodbye - me, because I had no more money and was heading home to the Collaborative (eek!), and Monica because this meant she'd have to spend the rest of her time catching up on her research. A sad moment for us both. :'-(
When the train arrived at Terminal 3 at Heathrow, wouldn't you know it, but the elevators weren't working. !!! Bystanders were treated to a colourful display of Canadian swearing as I tackle two more flights of stairs. (Don't worry - they probably thought I was American.)
Did the automated check-in thing, and now I've got two hours to wait for my plane. On the positive side, though, Heathrow has many shops and stores. I saw several different versions of Harrods, shoe stores, souvenir shops, cafes. I stopped at La Brioche Doree (even after nearly two weeks in London, I still want the french treats!) and bought a chocolate croissant and Coke with my last £5 bill, and read my People magazine.
You're not supposed to go to your departure gate until it's listed on the notice boards, so that was about 10:00, and we started boarding at 10:30. The plane left the gate right on time at 11:05; however, there was probably another 10 minutes of taxi-ing down the runways and taking our place in the take-off queue. Heathrow is a boxy, extremely functional-looking airport, but there is major air traffic coming and going. I kept looking out the window at all the other planes lining up. Some very large British Airway planes, a green Irish plane, and a few American Airlines.
When we took off, you could see a white haze over London. A lot of bright sunny days, I'd noticed that it was still kind of hazy - very rarely clear. When we were checking the weather every day, the pollution index was always listed as moderate, so I guess that's what it was.
Oh yay, a 7-hour flight. Lots of Canadian soldiers on the flight - I was sitting next to one who was returning from three months in Dubai. Ryan was originally from Saskatchewan, and in the Communications branch of the Reserves, but didn't recognize George's name. (Maybe you'd already left by that time, George.)
So, how to spend the next 7 hours? Eat the hot chicken meal, watch the airplane version of "Rumour Has It" with censored dialog, such as "He's just a horny butthead." (Somehow I doubt that was the original line.) Definitely a lightweight film, but Shirley MacLaine is great. "Annie Hall" was on next, but I wasn't really interested, so tried to sleep for a while. Wake up, and eat some pizza. Keep looking at watch, hit the call button (it's not like the flight attendants ever actually show up to see what you want), and keep asking, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"
Eventually, we are there. Toronto Airport is borrrriiiiiinnnnnggggg. Why was I in such a hurry to get here? I get my new Blundstone boots shined up, since they got pretty scuffed in London with all the walking we did, and that's about it for excitement. Oh well - at least it's only a 2-hour wait (when I was returning from Paris, I was stuck here for over 6 hours). It's a pretty airport with lots of windows, but why oh why is there no Internet cafe? I am surrounded by Blackberry users, who look very smug as they send and receive their emails. Since I have no Blackberry, I stare at my shiny boots instead.
Finally, my little Air Canada flight arrives. The Toronto-Saskatoon plane is a lot smaller, and a wee bit more cramped than the London-Toronto Boeing 767, but the important thing is that we're leaving. Good riddan- er, I mean, goodbye, Toronto! And I luck out and don't have anyone sitting next to me. Hahahaha - I push up the armrest and become a seat hog! Everyone else is jealous.
The flight arrives about 25 minutes early, which means that Patricia is not waiting for me, which means there is no phony, joyful reunion. I am miffed. However, no one else has any joyful reunions either, cause nobody is sitting in the airport waiting for a plane to come EARLY. That's just unheard of. However, Patricia is pleased, cause this means she doesn't have to pay for parking. She pauses in the taxi stand, I throw my luggage in, and we make our escape!
And it's a nice sunny day in Saskatoon - always a good thing to come home to nice weather. The trees are finally green, and it looks like I actually need to mow my lawn.
My neighbour's house STILL is not sold. It's been on the market since January - she's already moved out and it's sitting empty. At $168,900, nobody is biting. Looks like she's finally dropped the price to $164,800, but no deal yet. So, not too much has changed around here!
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