Air travel's complicated isn't it? Well, yes, but it remains the quickest way to travel home. I'm in the departure lounge again, this time in Toronto, and this time, with a glass of Pinot Grigio.
It's a night flight. I'm currently watching the sun sink into a golden evening, while gigantic planes taxi to and fro. One of them will carry me and my stuff back to the UK, just in time to vote, and certainly in time for a cup of much-loved Darjeeling. I'm more excited about one of those things than the other, and, in truth, even more excited about seeing my friends and my family.
I wonder whether I will wake up tomorrow missing the sound of the streetcar rumbling along Queen Street. Then there's that rush of cold fresh air as I open the roof-light window...
Well actually I'll still be on the plane tomorrow morning and I doubt anyone would be thrilled at the idea of opening the window.
I'm really hoping that air travel is not that complicated. Get on, sleep the sleep of Endymion, and then get off again at the other end. That's the plan.
Also, as much as I adore tiny babies, I'm extremely grateful that (with another hour before boarding) I can't see one here in the departure lounge. I guess there's time for that.
That, and another glass of the Pinot, I suppose.
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