01 December 2010 – Pearson International Airport
Ok, so we actually made it to the airport. It was kind of on time – not exactly, but almost very nearly. We arrived at 8:30am instead of the 8am that we had originally planned on. But it was not bad considering we still had a little packing to do in the morning (we awoke at 4:30am) and had 3 huge suitcases (each practically the size of a small horse) and 2 carry-ons, plus The Little One. With that much stuff, we could easily have flattened all the tires on the cab, got stuck on the Gardiner, and missed the plane completely. That being said, I think we could have made it much closer to the targeted time if the guy who drove us went over 60 km an hour. This guy was the worst, slowest taxi driver I’ve ever had the misfortune to ride with. It was as if he wasn’t really a taxi driver at all, but instead some lost soul who just happened to be heading in the same basic direction as the airport and took us along to keep him company. I swear he must have trained at the Grandma’s School of Painfully Slow Driving, because that’s exactly how he drove. Through the thick, relentless morning rush-hour traffic, he drove like he was trying to find the correct house number for a pickup.
Checking in was easy as hell, too. Mind you, we didn’t get the bulkheads seats (the ones that come with bassinettes for the baby) that we booked 3 months ago and were assured, over the phone two days ago, that those exact seats would be held for us, come hell or high water. It seems that all the people with fast taxi drivers got those seats. We did, however, manage to get some seats somewhere on the correct aircraft, so I suppose that was a good consolation prize, all things considered.
The only thing of concern was the speed at which we passed through the supposedly strict and rigorous airport security one always hears people complaining about on the news. We passed through as if we were smeared with butter. Does everyone pass through that quickly? Do the terrorists and bomb people pass that quickly, too? It makes me a little nervous. So I’m checking everyone out at our gate – Gate 72. I’m walking up and down the rows of people sitting, eyeballing each and every one of them to see if I can spot the terrorist that slipped through. It’s not an easy job, but I’m vigilant.
So we have an hour and a half, supposedly, until lift off. I’m going to stop here for fear my computer’s battery will run out of steam.
Check out the continuing saga on your right