I started my day blowing bubbles in the garden for Catrin to pop. She made wishes on some of the popped bubbles…
“I will whisper what I wished for in your ear.” (whispering) “I wish there was cheese in the house.”
“Do you want to eat some cheese?”
I saw a hummingbird hovering over the balcony as I sat on my bag and forced the zip shut and came over all emotional about leaving such a lovely place. We asked Catrin a question as we drove away in the direction of the airport…
“What was the best bit about our holiday?”
“Going to Aunty Lois and Uncle Jim’s house”
On arrival at Pearson Airport in Toronto, we plugged our way through check-in and security with our 5 items of hold luggage, 2 car seats, 1 buggy, 5 cabin bags and a nappy bag. By the time we reached the departure lounge, we were only slightly less flustered than a lady we saw earlier…she was travelling with three children and a big pile of suitcases; each bag was twice the size of her largest child. She left a girl (8/9 years old) and a small toddler sitting on a luggage trolley alone in the queue for the check-in desk and ran outside the airport building for a while to collect her son (10/11-ish) and yet more bags from somewhere. Then she left all 3 children looking bewildered as she ran out of the airport building yet again in the middle of the checking-in process. She did come back. Eventually.
Our flight was delayed so we scoffed our final Tim Hortons doughnuts and cookies and headed to the gate to wait patiently. However, a Cathay Pacific plane bound for Hong Kong pulled into the gate after a couple of hours and my husband resorted to ordering beer from the to-your-table bar service and playing noughts and crosses against himself on the airport iPads. The expected boarding time grew later and later.
After some more waiting and a mass exodus to a different gate, we were reminded of some of the less pleasant British stereotypes when three suited, middle aged people literally pushed their way through a queue of passengers with small children like Lords bedecked in their finery amongst a crowd of filthy serfs. They declared in their loudest and most pompous voices that they hadn’t heard the call for club class passengers (they were probably to busy with their glasses of port to listen to the tannoy) and, therefore, they must be allowed onto the plane this very moment.
The ‘I’m better than everybody else and I demand my rights’ attitude was also demonstrated with gusto by a couple travelling with three children as they boarded the aircraft late and then were incredibly rude and inconsiderate to the crew and other passengers for the entire 7 hour flight (if you would like to read my letter to Mr and Mrs Twattingford-Herbert, you can see it here: https://thelifeofericablog.wordpress.com/2014/08/24/dear-mr-and-mrs-twattingford-herbert/ )
We took off seven hours after arriving at the airport and I watched the lights of Toronto and the shores of Lake Ontario fading away and said goodbye to our amazing holiday. I will miss Canada and will do my best to visit again soon…maybe in the winter next time.
10 Things I will miss about Canada:
* Tim Hortons (Oreo doughnuts…drooool)
* Proper summer weather
* The vast amounts of space
* Polite people (they even open doors for others and can actually use a bin)
* Moose and bear paraphernalia
* Crickets chirping all night
* Waffles with maple syrup
* Baseball (especially the London Majors)
I think I might need to start a campaign for Tim Hortons to cross the Atlantic…and another campaign against all uncalled-for rudeness and selfishness. I will call it the Bring Back Good Manners campaign.