I wish I was...
Most of the gang left early this morning to catch their flights - we were all on different airlines at different times, and I for one was happy to be flying British Airways for the bulk of the trip back (instead of Air Canada, like the rest) so I woke to an empty hotel room and a couple of hours to kill before having to head off to the airport. Nice and so relaxing!! I headed out to the airport early (wanted to find a bottle of scotch to bring home and maybe get further ahead with my novel) and checked in to Air Lingus, and they weren't able to give me a boarding pass for my connecting flight in London. Hm. The woman said there was probably nothing to worry about, that the plane was probably full and that I'd be upgraded, so I trotted along to the Duty Free dreaming about sitting in one of those bed-seats for the extra-long flight home.
No dice.
The connection didn't leave me much time, so I dashed off to the BA kiosks and tried to get my boarding pass, but was redirected to a counter. Then the apologies began. Apparently there was a problem with the original plane that was going to take us back to Canada and they had to use a smaller one - about 15 seats smaller, to be precise - so I joined a group of other strandees and waited. Slowly, a few of us got seats. Then a few more. Then an attendant came up to a group of us - 6 in all - with a sullen face and apologies. Sorry, no, you won't be able to fly today. No, there are no other flights going to Canada today. No, not even on another airline. Sorry. She looked SO tired and took so much shit from some of the now-non-passengers - except for three British guys who were flying to Montreal to work as cameramen for the Tennis tournaments...they were ELATED!! They even had her speak to their boss via cell to explain the circumstances, and giggled all the way to the bar. Three of us (one angry business guy, one young au pair and me) remained, waiting for our compensation (and me for my luggage) and shaking our heads about what to do next. The guy jumped right into the conspiracy theories: Why us? What's your last name? Are you "foreign" too? As it turned out, he was Polish, she was Hungarian, and me Dutch. I didn't see his point, personally, and certainly wasn't as angry!
Two hours later I'm in the Hilton hotel in a swanky room with decadent toiletries, a playstation, plugs that don't need international adaptors, internet access, an array of teas and coffees, and vouchers for supper, breakfast and lunch. SWEET!!!
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