To vancouver and back...in 37 1/2 hours...

It was going to be quick, but it was very well organized. I had 37 1/2 hours to get to Vancouver, have two meetings, and return back home.

My itinerary was as follows:

9am (EST) flight from Ottawa to Toronto
11am (EST) flight from Toronto to Vancouver

*next day*

1pm (PST) flight from Vancouver to Toronto (arriving at 8pm EST)
9pm (EST) flight Toronto to Ottawa

So, while there were layovers, they were short, just enough time to stretch my legs, grab a coffee/snack/drink etc., and get on the next flight. It was flawless....or so I thought.

Day One

In cab by 7:30 am, plenty of time to spare. Managed all luggage in small carry-on bag. I get to the airport by 8:00am...get boarding passes, coffee and settle in. By 8:30am I notice I have a voicemail on my cell phone. It's Air Canada. Apparently my flight from Toronto to Vancouver has been cancelled, so they got me on the next one that leaves at noon. This is going to make me late, but not too bad, for my first meeting. Waiting...waiting...still waiting...why aren't we boarding?

Announcement: Ladies and gentlemen, due to "severe weather conditions" in Toronto, we are delayed in leaving Ottawa at this time. I overhear the guy next to me on his phone, calling his colleague in Toronto "...what's that Jim? A storm? The worst storm Toronto's seen all year?"

Finally boarding, and I'm feeling a little thankful that my next flight is cancelled, as I would not have made it.

I sit down, buckle up, pull open my magazine when "WHAM!" a woman drops her carry-on suitcase on my head while she was trying to put it in the overhead bulkhead. I know from here, that things are going downhill.

In Toronto: get to my gate to go to Vancouver, and am in line to board. Just as the ticket agent takes my ticket and passport, I hear a thump, and a horrible scream of pain. An old woman has just gotten her clothing caught in the moving sidewalk, and it pulled her down to the ground. My ticket agent takes off running to go help...with my passport and ticket.

Many minutes later, I'm boarding. Here we go.

Waiting...waiting...still waiting...the captain comes on "ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing an issue with one of the emergency exit doors, it's not closing properly." Ummm...this is an issue, yes.

WAY later: "ladies and gentleman, I have good news and bad news. The good news is we can still fly this aircraft. The bad news is we need to evacuate rows 12 through 17." Me? I'm in row 22.

Much later: with half the aircraft now emptied out, this paved a nice path for the men in orange jumpsuits to come onto the plane...with rolls of red duct tape. Oh yes, my friends, surely this emergency exit door was securely taped in place now...one of the many uses of duct tape. But, should one of us cramped passengers try to sneak into, say, row 15 to stretch out for a snoozem, surely we would be deterred by the mounds of red duct tape actually blocking off all of the empty rows...I wonder how they determine which seats need to be vacated...if the emergency exit door blows off mid-flight, how sure are they that row 17 would be sucked out, while row 18 would just find it a bit drafty...

Twenty hours after arriving in Vancouver, I was back at the airport...only to have my luggage searched.

Toronto to Ottawa...the home stretch...here we are, ready to board...when "Passenger Chan...would passenger Chan please identify himself"...yep, passenger Chan checked his luggage onto the plane...and then didn't show...leaving us waiting 30 minutes while the airport people sifted through the luggage in the belly of the plane to remove passenger Chan's luggage.

BUT, the worst part of this entire travel saga...was the movie: A Good Year...starring Russell Crowe as a bad-boy playboy/stock-market king who inherits a vinyard in France...it was like HELL ON WINGS.