It’s Sunday morning. I’m back from France, showing up at my keyboard. I’m tap, tapping away though my head is thick and groggy. My ears are still ringing and somewhat plugged.
Our flight coming back was almost as eventful as the one going. My reservation showed cancelled again when we checked in with Air Canada at Charles de Gaulle Airport. We had to show my ticket purchased at the airport in Saskatoon. A long phone call later, everything was cleared up. I was allowed to check through.
We were late departing from Paris due to air traffic and delayed further by strong prevailing winds. Our scheduled stopover was short in Toronto to begin with and with the delay, we had to hustle clearing through Customs. It was a good thing they had set up a system of scanners to process the papers instead of lining up for a Customs officer. Thank God that there were enough personnel to help figure things out. Perhaps this is one of the times that I do appreciate the impersonal, of just feeding things through a machine.
After going through Customs, we had to wait to claim our luggage and put it onto a conveyer belt for our connecting flight. I had a good workout galloping through Lester B Pearson Airport. We made it to the departure gate with just minutes to spare. Whew!
I have to admit that I was a little grumpy by the time we were on the last leg of our flight. There is nothing to crow about Air Canada’s food. Reheated prepackaged frozen lasagna may smell delicious to the tired, hungry traveller, but then you bite into the overcooked crunchy pasta. You eat it because there are no options. Time pass and you forget – till the next meal. This time is an over microwaved hot wrap sandwich. On the domestic leg, from Toronto to Saskatoon, there was no food, only water and non alcoholic beverages. Not even a peanut or pretzel.
Yes, I was crabby and critical of the airline. Was it too much to ask for decent food? They provided movies and other entertainment programs but gave out cheap earphones. I could not hear anything except loud noise. I spent the time watching the progress of the plane on the map and coughing and coughing.
But I am home. Sheba is laying beside me. The sun s shining. I’m none the worse for wear. The sleep thing is not perfect, in 2 hour spells through the night, but my cough is a bit better. I’m pushing the fluids. The suitcases are unpacked. Laundry is almost done. Now if only lunch could be simple.
But – I am finding the words, having the desire. I am quite pleased that I kept up the exercise while I was away. I could even post using my iPhone, but the Internet betrayed me the second week. My writing is saved on Werdsmith, waiting to be polished and posted. They are not perfect but they have captured some of the memories while in France.