BACK TO OHIO. Part 4. Stuck in Toronto.

Friday January the 7^th. Toronto, and I am awake early in my Crowne Plaza hotel room. I didn’t sleep too good. The bed was great and the room was comfortable but although my flight had been cancelled the night before obviously others hadn’t. I was on the tenth floor of 11 and I could swear that planes were trying to land on the hotel roof during the night. It wasn’t so much the noise but every time one flew overhead my damned bed vibrated in sync with the plane’s engines. I sighed and got up. I needed to get on to Air Canada to find out if they had me on a flight. Asap I hoped. I put coffee on and visited the shower. I was starting to wake up after this and smiled a little as I trousered the extra shampoos/soap/cosmetics for future use. Yea we all do it. Coffee was ready and as soon as I drank it so was I.

SMOKING OUTSIDE THE CROWNE PLAZA TORONTO.

I hit reception to use the phone (I had to pay in my room) and was told there was a ten minute wait to get through to Air Canada. I waited. I got answered. I didn’t like the answer. There were 2 flights a day to Columbus. The first at 3:30pm was fully booked. I was on the 8:20pm flight that night, a full 24 hours after my cancelled flight. A whole wasted day when I could have been with my Raven. But what could I do? I did what I do best. I went outside for a cigarette then had breakfast.

YUMMY.

I smoked and then sashayed through into the breakfast room. I had an Air Canada voucher for $7 but man I was hungry. So I paid extra for a BIG breakfast. Bacon sausage eggs fried potatoes toast and unlimited coffee. It was good and restored some happiness. I was replete. Next on to reception. I had to book out at midday and I went and told my tale of woe. The receptionist was great. She joined me up with some travel club for free which meant I could stay in my room till 3pm. I could also stay and use the hotel facilities all day if I wished and they would store my luggage till flight time. Happy days indeed.

I called Raven to tell her the bad news and went back to my room. Not much to do. I did toy briefly with the idea of looking around Toronto or maybe using the hotel pool and sauna but inaction got the better of me. I laid on the bed and watched Canadian daytime TV. Hmm, much the same as US daytime TV. I learned how to make my make-up look better. How to do my hair better. I watched makeovers and film stars waffling on about home cooking (Gwyneth Paltrow)….I fell asleep.

ZZZZZZZZZZZ.

 

I woke up to another jet passing over. Boy they were close. I looked out the window and took pics. Yep I was a long way up….eek! I thought I’d head down to reception again just for something to do. I helped myself to lobby coffee and one of the tasty looking croissants laid out there. It was only later that I realised I was supposed to pay for them….oops. Never mind. And that was how the day went … boring. But I sorted out the luggage and nicked the remaining packs of room coffee etc and finally I headed back to the airport. Might as well be bored there as anywhere.

EEK! A LONG WAY UP.

SOME GOT EVEN CLOSER THAN THIS.

I couldn’t book my luggage in until I had cleared US immigration again. I shouldn’t have any problems there as I already had my passport stamped and my entry permit stuck in there too so I took my time with a Starbucks and a last few cigarettes outside the departure terminal. I again was pleased at how friendly Canadians are as usually one would start chatting as we smoked together outside. One even high fived me as I left and wished me happy landings.

TORONTO AIRPORT STARBUCKS. CRAPPY CROISSANTS.

I made my way through to the Air Canada desk and they directed me through to the US immigration. As usual the queue was long. I queried my being there with the lady in charge of the queue. I mean I’d done all this yesterday. Couldn’t I just go straight through? I knew it was a hopeless question but I asked anyway. I joined the queue. Again I wondered if US Border Patrol guards are paid slowness incentive bonuses but eventually I was directed to my appointed officer. Eek! He looked just like Sam Eagle from the muppets. I wondered if they got the idea of him from this guy. He even sounded the part. Still. This wouldn’t take long. Would it? I was fingerprinted and retinal scanned. “Yes they haven’t changed since yesterday.” I smiled. He grunted. I watched in horror as he scrawled the big red ‘SI’ on my paperwork. “Secondary Investigation? I know where it is.” I almost cried. Not AGAIN!… Sam Eagle almost raised a smile and said. “Didn’t do ya a lot of good that visa did it?” I strongly resisted the urge to tell him to go pluck himself and headed off to the Secondary Investigation office with my yellow clipboard.

MY US BORDER PATROL OFFICER.

I looked around for my guy from yesterday but no luck. I think they must’ve sacked him for being too pleasant. I get some huge black woman. I try to explain that I done all this last night but she just scowls at me over her glasses and tells me none too sweetly to sit down and wait. She will deal with me shortly. I sit down and seethe inwardly. I mean if I was OK to let in yesterday then why not today. Maybe they suspected me of joining some Canadian white slaving outfit or pulling a bank job since then? It would be ironic if they didn’t let me in now after I thought I was OK yesterday.

I sit and wait … and wait… and wait.

© 2011 Stan Rogers. All rights reserved.

 

BACK TO OHIO Part 2. Arrival in Canada.

 

My Chariot Awaits.

The flight was good. Nice and smooth with no turbulence. Just how I like it. The food wasn’t bad as airline food goes and I even got free wine. Great stuff Air Canada. Unusually for me I actually watched a film all the way through ( She’s Out of My League) which wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. I had a couple of scotches and almost cheered when the pilot announced we’d be arriving 15 minutes early, pretty good as we’d been 40 minutes late taking off. But all the time I was dreading my arrival in some ways.

SAY NO MORE!

Last time I took this trip I ended up going no farther than Toronto. Before you transfer to the US bound plane you have to clear US immigration in Toronto and last time I didn’t. The US Border Patrol told me that as I had spent 6 months in the USA already last year I had to be out of the country for 6 months before I could return. I had only spent 4 months out last October and so I got turned back. Yes it turned out to be a very expensive day trip to Canada for me along with the heartbreak of being just a few hundred miles away from my Raven and not seeing her but the full tale of woe was posted earlier on in an earlier blog which you can read HERE…. So here I am wondering if I’ll get problems again entering the US. I had even emailed them beforehand to check. Fine they told me. No problems they told me but they told me that last October too so I wasn’t putting a lot of faith in that.

SEATBACK MAP. NOT FAR TO GO NOW.

The descent began into Toronto at and we landed at 2:45pm local time. This had to be one of the smoothest landings I have ever encountered. Hardly a bump before we landed back on Terra firma. I offered a prayer of thanks to the gods of aeronautical engineering and disembarked wondering how the next few hours would go. Luckily my connecting flight to Columbus Ohio wasn’t until 8:20pm so I had plenty of time to get through immigration … hopefully. I was disappointed not to see snow on the ground in Canada as we landed although it did start to snow a little as we disembarked.

WAITING TO GET OFF THE INFERNAL MACHINE.

I made my way through the Terminal at Toronto and boy was my heart pumping. I hadn’t let on to my Raven how worried I was about being turned away again but I think she knew and bless her she didn’t let on. But anyway finally I reached the luggage carousel. I filled my immigration form in and waited. Before long I spied one of my cases. I have learned to make my cases easily identifiable just for this purpose by putting bright blue straps around them. It makes it a lot easier than trying to spot your case amongst the rest of the similar luggage. I loaded it onto my trolley and awaited the second one… and waited … and waited. Finally I was the only person left there. Oh buggerit! Don’t tell me that the bugga’s had lost half of my luggage? I checked with one of the guys working nearby. He took my bag receipt and disappeared ‘backstage’. I finally saw my lonely case appear and breathed a sigh of relief. It turned out to have got stuck in the conveyor loading area.

TORONTO AIRPORT.

Next it was Border Patrol time. I girded my loins and made it through to the immigration hall. Now Border Patrol officers are a special breed. I think one of the entry tests must be to tell them jokes. If they smile???… FAIL! Mercifully the queue was short and I met my man. The usual unsmiling questions followed along with fingerprinting and a retinal scan. And just like last time I got the big red ‘SI’ scrawled across my file. I was directed to the ‘Secondary Investigation’ office, handed over my file and was told to sit. I waited … and waited. My nerves were shot by now and a very very large scotch with a smoke seemed an impossible wish. Was my nightmare about to repeat itself. Along with an inability to smile it also seems a necessity for the Border Patrol not to hurry. Those guys really know how to take their time.

MAYBE THE BORDER PATROL BAKED ME ONE?

After about an hour I was called. Here we go again I thought. I mentally prepared myself for the third degree and the luggage search. But … it never happened. The guy was actually courteous and after a minimum of questions he apologised to me and told me that he’d made a note in my file so I wouldn’t have problems in future. I could of kissed that guy. I would happily have had his children and mentioned him in my will. And I was through. I had to book in my luggage for the onward flight to Ohio and go through the customary shoes off, belt off, laptop out, beep beep of the scanner but the security guys must’ve thought I was on something judging by the smile on my face. I wanted to shake them all by the hand and thank them personally … but nah. I just made my way to the departures lounge in search of a beer or a coffee. No smoke unfortunately but I needed a drink.

I NEEDED ONE BADLY...

I called Raven first though. I was a little wicked and told her I had bad news. I heard her voice falter so quickly I told her. “The bad news is that you have to pick me up in a few hours … I’m through babe.” We were both over the moon. Only a few hours now and I’d be back in my baby’s arms in Ohio. I decided to get a coffee first as I still had a few hours to waste till I embarked. Finding a ‘hole in the wall’ Starbucks I ordered a large Pike Place, laced it heavily with cream and Splenda (Gotta watch the figure ya know) and headed off to find a seat. I found one right by a shoe shine guy. I nodded hello as I sat down and promptly spilt a good measure of coffee down my jeans. As my baby says “Ya can’t take me anywhere.” but did I care?….Naaaa. I was on my way back home and still sporting a huge smile. The Rabbi having his shoes polished must have thought the beaming coffee stained idiot in the pork pie hat was an escaped lunatic.

HAPPY RABBI.

I finished my coffee and wandered around the shops for a while. No mistaking I was in the ‘Land of the Beaver’. There were raccoon hats, fluffy mooses dressed as mounties, Maple-leaf beer glasses and all sorts of local paraphernalia by the box-load. I contemplated buying a raccoon tail hat till I saw the price. Maybe I should get into the raccoon tail supply business? This is Canada, there must be shed loads of the little critters willing to donate their tails to help out with my finances?

Looking at my watch I realised that I only had an hour or two till embarkation on the last leg of my journey and it was fast approaching beer o’clock. I headed off to find a nice bar safe in the knowledge that only a few hours remained before I was back with my baby …..

 

Little did I know how wrong I was…..

© 2011 Stan Rogers. All rights reserved.

GOING BACK TO OHIO….. I HOPE!

Trepidation. Fantastic word that and I was feeling it badly. The night before I flew back to the States and my lovely Raven but I remembered all of the problems I had back in October. Remembering how the US Border Patrol hadn’t let me in which had led to one night in Toronto before getting the morning flight back to the UK. Two transatlantic flights in 24 hours … for a guy who is terrified of flying? Would it happen again? Hopefully not!

EEK!

 

So Thursday 6^th of January. I had set my alarm for 04:45am but I was awake long before that. I had hardly slept. My early night hadn’t happened and I’d been up till midnight drinking a few whiskies to calm the nerves. It hadn’t worked but at least I hoped my lack of sleep would mean I could sleep some on the flight. Raven called me just in case I overslept but I was already drinking tea and enjoying my first ciggy of the day by then. So that was it. I took my valium and hit the shower. I took my time as it was an hour before the taxi arrived.

 

The taxi ride to Heathrow was pretty hair raising even with the valium. My friend Glen who usually takes me picked me up on time and we set off to the airport. It was still dark and the roads were wet. Unfortunately Glen had a couple of problems with the car. It was veering to the left … suspension or something and the windscreen washers didn’t work. Hairy stuff on the motorway and more than a few times I thought we were going to broadside cars that we overtook especially as his only method of screen cleaning was squirting water from a drinks bottle out of the window. Now that would’ve been ironic. To die in a taxi ON THE WAY TO THE AIRPORT… I was a quivering wreck but at last it started to rain. No need to squirt the screen anymore at least although the veering continued not helped by Glen hand rolling smokes as we shuddered along the motorway at 80 miles per hour.

TERMINAL 3 MORNING.

 

But we arrived safely at last and with lots of time to spare. I booked in my cases and headed of to Costa Coffee to guzzle coffee and smoke. I prayed to the gods of aeronautical engineering as I sat there and started my countdown till take-off. No hurry as once I checked in I wouldn’t be able to smoke again till North America. I did have a nicotine inhalator but they are small consolation and incomparable to the calming effects of real smoke. But eventually I stubbed out that last smoke and entered the world of airport security … check-in time.

COSTA'S AT TERMINAL 3.

 

It hasn’t changed. Shoes off, belt off, laptop out and wait for the inevitable beep as I go through the body scanner. Usually it’s the rivets on my Levis and yep. I get the wand and eventually I get through. The security lady takes my miniatures of Glenfiddich away “to carry out tests” and I sweat for a moment in case my in-flight medication is confiscated but it seems OK. I even ask her to check if it is really 15 years old. I re-dress and go through to duty free. No point in buying booze. It would be confiscated before my connecting flight but I do stock up on ciggies. 200 of Virginia’s best for this guy before hitting the bar to stock up on courage.

IN FLIGHT MEDICATION.

 

First a pint of lager, Stella Artois, I think followed by gin and tonics and finally a gin and coke. That feeling of calm eventually comes over me and I sit back to enjoy people watching. It’s a busy morning at terminal 3 so there are plenty to watch. I love people watching. It is usually more interesting than TV and I try to imagine peoples stories as I look around. The possibilities are endless but that’s another story and I head off at last to the Air Canada departure gate for my midday flight, by now full of bonhomie… oh and booze.

BUSY DAY AT HEATHROW.

 

We all board our Air Canada flight without incident. An Airbus, nice but with the usual lack of legroom. I find my seat and settle back in readiness for take-off. The fear starts to rise again within me but it’s too late now. I’m past the point of no return and so I look forward to some in-flight medication. Take off time comes … and passes. The pilot apologises but after 40 minutes sitting on the taxiway we eventually move towards our runway. At last. The pilot does his final checks. The usual bumps and groans from various aircraft parts. Oh my gawd I pray that none fall off. I gulp and feel the sweatiness of my hands and then … take off. I hate it. I can’t even listen to my mp3 player nowadays. Not allowed until we are airborne. The engines roar and we start to hurtle forward to certain doom I think. I feel every bump on the runway and then …. smoothness. The Airbus rises against the laws of gravity and reason and one shit scared Englishman is aloft. I sneak peek out of the port hole and see Terra firma and safety slipping away below me. I sigh in relief as it seems my life isn’t going to end in a fireball at the end of the runway and I look forward to my first shot of in flight courage.

 

Canada here I come ….

Into the land of the Beaver.