" We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. "
Of course to quote these lines in reference to my holiday in Spain with good friends is ludicrous, but I did know the place for the first time. I knew to order the arugula pizza because it was delicious, whereas the first time I had just been lucky when I ordered it. The next morning I caught the plane for Paris at 5:50am.
In Charles de Gaul airport my good times came to an end when the Air France automated check-in machine spat out my passport. I knew that the employees were on strike, but had heard on the news that it would not involve long flights. Paris to Toronto is a pretty long flight. I tried to stay calm as I told the Air France employee my situation, but my voice was quavering. I was disappointed with myself because I have had critical thoughts about people I feel are overreacting when they are interviewed in airports at times of more serious confusion than a mere strike. Anyway, after she reviewed my papers and confirmed that I was flying home with them and WestJet, a member of their family of airlines, she looked me in the eye and said, "On s'occupe de vous." I became buoyant again at the sound of these words and followed her from one wicket to the next like a child who had lost her mom in a mall and was now happily back with her. In a short time she handed me a voucher for snacks in the airport, tickets for the shuttle, and a reservation at an airport hotel that included breakfast, lunch and dinner. I met a Vietnamese couple, we had two meals together and all went well until I got to Toronto. My bag was not booked through to Kelowna as I had been told it would be, no problem, I just picked it up and put it through myself. But then I encountered a WestJet employee who abruptly informed me that I was not booked through to Kelowna. I began to fear that the family of airlines, like many families, was not a close one. Fortunately, one of her colleagues had a more current passenger list and found my name on it. Then I just had to run to the carry-on baggage check, where my bag was chosen for special attention and I lost my hair scissors, continue quickly to the gate and board the plane for Kelowna. Jay picked me up and drove me home where I happily settled down on my own futon. And now I too have a travel tale that might buy me a few good meals.
The arugula pizza that began and ended my holiday in Spain
The southern tip of Greenland
Crocuses in the front yard
Skiing with Mo and John on Sunday
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