Surprise!! I’m in Canada!!
Air Canada Flight 1038
Surprise, eh, or was it?
Larry and I talked of a rendezvous in Buffalo, New York, after he visited our Canadian friends Sandra and Tony.
There was only one direct flight from Denver which arrived at 1:20 in the morning. (“Direct flight?” you may ask. Yes. With all the pilot shortages and cancelled flights, direct is the only way to go.)
“I’m not going to meet you in Buffalo,” I told him on our nightly check-in, “the flight times suck.”
“That’s ok,” he said, “I understand.”
The very next day I received this message from Sandra: “Good Afternoon Rebecca! Just putting something out there... We were wondering if you would like to fly into Buffalo this week. We live 2 hours from Buffalo Airport and could come and get you, bring you to our place, you could rendezvous with Larry at our place and then we could take you back to Buffalo Airport...”
After a little back and forth, and securing pet care, we decided I’d fly into Toronto, take a bus to a town close by and NOT tell Larry.
Purchasing tickets on Air Canada, I discovered to my horror that our credit card company sent Larry a purchase alert. Really? Even after I called and asked them to suspend the notice, they sent it.
Did Larry know what I was up to? He didn’t said, but if that sly smile on our last FaceTime video was any indication, I was thinking yes.
“For International flights arrive 3 hours prior to boarding time,” the airport directory stated. Three hours, why? After check-in and TSA screening, I wasted time wandering the concourse.
After an hour of meandering, I ducked into a bookstore and made a purchase.
Another hour and then some passed, I found my seat 23F by the window. The noonday sun was blinding as it ricocheted off the wing. I closed the blind and watched the passengers squirm in anticipation for pushback, taxi and takeoff. Time ticked slowly. What were we waiting for?
Omg. I felt movement! Yes! I was on my way to Canada!
Instead of reading the book I purchased, I watched “Being Canadian,” a short adorable film by Robert Cohen. Igloo’s, hockey, plaid shirts, and donuts, that’s what we think awaits us across the border.
We made a sweeping circle aver Toronto on a 30 mile downwind before landing. Storm outflow over Lake Ontario pushed the aircraft sideways as we crabbed toward the runway. We landed with a thud and taxied to the penalty box waiting for our gate to open. We sat a spell before the passengers with connecting flights were allowed off. The rest of us were instructed to sit while the flight attendants started a stop watch - “something to do with short staffing at customs.”
Wow. Customs was such an cosmopolitan. Beautiful people, exotic dress and so many languages! So this was Canada.
I found a bench to settle in on, my bus was two hours away.
An email from ArriveCAN (the automated Canadian immigration site) informed me to get a Covid test and quarantine because I as listed as unvaccinated. WTF. I had registered with my vaccination card. Governments. I called their 800 number and was told to disregard any automated phone call I might receive over the weekend.
My bus arrived and nine cranky travelers boarded.
“There’s a three car pile-up,” the driver informed us, “Could be a delay.”
Everyone groaned.
Tony and Larry
They decided to take Larry for a drive under the partial pretense of showing him the area they were born and raised while secretly picking me up at the bus stop in a neighboring town. Tony drove, Larry passengered and Sandra sat in the back texting me and suggested to Tony where to drive on the tour.
They drove by the Catholic Church they were married and the school Tony attended. Passing the farm Tony grew up on, they stopped at the Cemetery where his parents were buried. Sandra argued with her husband to stop so she could check on the tombstone engraving, attempting to waste time.
They showed Larry the house where Sandra grew up and then the next town where they went to high school, met and fell in love. They drove through the town of Burgessville, where Tony worked driving dump trucks.
“Ah, we’re almost to Woodstock. They have dollar ice cream at McDonalds,” Sandra announced.
Tony suggested stopping at the McDonalds on the edge of town, but Sandra knew I was almost at the bus stop on the other side of town. She directed him to another McDonalds close to my location.
It was then that I FaceTime'd Larry making sure the Quality Hotel & Suites sign was behind me as they came up the road.
About to hug my accomplices
“Where are you?” Larry asked.
He was thinking, ‘Why are you Face Timing me from a hotel. And it’s not a hotel at home.’
“That’s when I saw the Quality Inn sign as we came up the hill and saw my Goddess standing at the top of the hill.” (He wanted me to quote this.)
Then we went for ice cream.
They named him Dick Head
I flew to Canada to give Larry a trim.
“A rose between two thorns,” Sandra said.
I asked, “What does OPP stand for?”
Officer Barry said, “Ontario Provincial Police or Ontario Professional Pigs or Official Party Poopers.”
Couldn’t have pulled it off without our friends Tony and Sandra.
After two full fantastic days, I left the way I came, via bus and airplane. While Tony and Sandra drove south to the barn where Larry’s bike and gear were stored and saw him off.
Getting ready to take off, again.
East Bound
