31 March

Again, despite setting the alarm, I continue to wake at about 5:30. However I resisted and went back to sleep until the alarm woke me. Then I checked email (none, except a load of junk mail in my other mailboxes), activity on my photos (a few more have been seen) and finally got up to get ready for breakfast. By the time I finally got down at 7, there was no-one there (and only one other according to the bin). I had my toast, some tea (with real milk) and orange juice, finishing off with muffins. The variety available was good, but no fresh fruit (which I have taken to using as morning tea, despite it not being the best for me.
I had a good chat with the chap on the counter. The season is stretching on too long but is now no good for winter sports but is too snowy for traditional spring or early summer activities. The occupancy rate is consequently down, so there were only a few staying last night. Breakfast proved to be a leisurely affair.
I finished my packing (as I could at the time) and then headed out, taking a few photos on the way. I was surprised that I was not long out of town and I was out of New Hampshire and into Vermont. Then I was soon onto an Interstate and the trip north and west became quicker.
I called up post offices and found one at Barton VT. As I pulled off, I filled the car with fuel (I can now get a predicted range of nearly 660 km) and then went to the post office. As I predicted, the service was 100% compared to in the suburbs. While packing the box, I was harangued by a local (who must run the local film society) about how they are showing classical musical films from DVD through a machine which projects it onto a large screen. I didn’t have the heart to say I (and many others) have the same at home. The box went off (at $37) to Fran’s, where I will pick it up late June. Then it was back onto the road and heading north (passing the 45° North parallel of latitude), and soon I was at the Canadian border. The formalities went through very quickly and I was on my way in Canada to Montreal. First thing –all the road signs were in French. Second thing it started snowing. Third, the temperature dropped from 6°C to -2°C.
I called in to have an early lunch so I wouldn’t be starving while trying to get all the essentials done at the Montreal Airport. Here I found it peculiar to have to partly order in French (OK) but to have terms like HAMBURGER and CHEESEBURGER spoken with a French accent. However I survived all that (and still have some Canadian money left, but very little US).
Back onto the road and the only problem with using a SatNav came up – I had very little idea of exactly where I was and my orientation, so while I progressed across Montreal and arrived at the airport, I could only follow the directions blindly and hope they were correct. When at one point there was no turnoff marked but the SatNav assured me I should turn, I didn’t – and suddenly it appeared as the truck in front of me passed it. So there was a little toing and froing until I got back on the correct path and found I was just circling outside the airport.
I filled the car up (and will check the fuel consumption later) and then eventually located the rental car return. The signs were so small that a quick glance meant you missed them, but I had to have faith in the SatNav – and so I returned the car not long after 1. No problem. The only thing was, with six people working there (four outside, two in the booth) it took a few minutes to get anyone’s attention. They must be used to groups leaving all the luggage at the airport and only the driver returning the car, but with no accoutrements. I had to collect all mine and remove the SatNav.
Then it was a short walk to the terminal, and here’s where the fun and games began.
I saw the sign to British Airways – go left. So I did, and ran into another sign; British Airways – go right. But no British Airways! No problem I thought, I’ll just ask someone who works here. Each gave me directions which landed me back where I had started from. Police, attendants, airline staff – same thing. Eventually I found someone who looked like an Airport official on his lunch break – ah, yes sir, he said, consulting a timetable in his pocket, British Airways will be at those checkout counters over there – but not until 5. At least now I knew. I had passed a bookstore and had seen someone a few days ago reading a new Lee Child thriller; so I thought I could get that, as airports seem to be the only places where books are sold at full retail price. It wasn’t there – none of his were there, so that left computer work and postcards as the only option.
Selecting a (faux) granite bench (which shared only its hardness and uncomfortableness with the genuine article, I called up the Internet provider, signed up at rates only an airport could charge and get away with, checked my email and then sent some out. With quite a bit of time remaining before I can even put my luggage in, but not the same amount of time remaining on charge in the laptop (and no powerpoints in evidence), I thought I could do the first draft of my blog and add to it later.
If you read this before I finish it in England (and then can post it), it will be rather like the Tony Hancock episode where the last page of a book was torn out and he couldn’t verify who the murderer was. Did I have any problems with luggage? Did I have problems with immigration? Was I able to enter on my EU passport with no exit stamp from Australia? Did the plane make it? Did I successfully leave the rental car depot and make it to visit anyone?
When the update comes in, I’ll delete this section – but on the other hand, should I just start a new blog and keep everyone wondering?
Keep tuned!
I wrote up part of my blog – evident, otherwise it wouldn’t have been posted yesterday – and put the laptop to sleep and started in conversation with an interesting fellow who had been a software IT person and was now doing a doctorate in the effect of IT on romance writing. I always though that one could research an obscure topic and that did it.
By 5:30 the tapes were out and the obstacle course set up, so I got up. I was beaten by a family returning, from a skiing holiday, to Manchester. The children had a longer than normal Easter holiday so they took advantage of it, but were complaining about the long (6 hour) flight. By 5:50 the desks were finally open and I was second up, got a window seat (for comfort more than view for that flight) and was able to head off, relatively unencumbered, to get a snack to see me through and also to be able to get to a toilet.
After all that, and another walk around the airport to see if I could find that book I was now looking for (with no luck), I went through screening (no beeps for me this time) and down to the gate lounge – and I mean down. Gate 61 seemed like it was halfway to London. I wondered why they had a little courtesy car and now I knew why. It was easy to locate powerpoints here – they had big lights on top! I plugged in and did some more work, transferring pictures over and such. While still waiting I struck up conversation with a couple from Montreal (English-speaking) and we chatted about rail trips, then the technical side as he worked for Canadian National Pacific, the freight company who owns nearly all the lines in Canada. Then, at 9, passengers were called – but only for the pointy end. Then it was the old, young and infirm, and finally us. By 8:30 I was in and seated. I met my travelling companions, Laura (one) and Laura (two), who were both French and had come over to visit a friend studying a year at Quebec University. We introduced ourselves and were talking away when, just before the aircraft started to taxi, Laura two realised she had left her laptop in the terminal (thank goodness I have the hait now of scanning to make sure nothing is left). She frantically searched her luggage and then got the attention of one of the cabin staff, who said he would ask about it. She got very distressed during the takeoff and it wasn’t until ten minutes later she got the message it had been found and she could contact them at Montreal to arrange delivery (I hate to think of the cost, but it is better than losing it). Then the meal was served, and all of those jokes about airline food came back to haunt me – they were all TRUE!
Soon after the cabin lights were dimmed and all windows closed and it was time to try to get some sleep. I listened to a story read on my iPod to drown out the noise.
My odyssey to North America had come to a peaceful conclusion.