Body in London, brain still over the Atlantic somewhere

[oursin]

Okay, I got to Toronto Pearson in good time and managed to wrastle successfully with the self-check-in machine, except that it printed out the baggage tag from an unanticipated aperture, against which my case was leaning, and this crumpled it to the extent that at bag-drop she printed out another one.

And, oh, it looks so cool to have those free iPads all over the place + charging stations, and I sure do appreciate those, but, O Toronto Pearson, for the best part of the two hours I was sitting there I completely failed to access your free wifi on my own tablet. I would be informed that it was connected, and go to the log-in page, and this would just hang there and not, actually, enable logging in. Bless, I say, the wifi on the Airport Express Bus.

However, I did manage to access a rather good margarita.

But Southern Comfort Reserve no could haz, alas.

I had one of the worst possible seats on the plane - when I did the online checkin, which I did about an hour or so after this had opened, there was absolutely nowhere else I could shift to, woe. I was right at the front of the economy section. As far as I can see, the only, if not entirely insignificant plus to this is being able to make an expeditious exit upon landing.

Otherwise: emergency exit row: check. No seat in front under which I could stash my handbag, so it had to go in the overhead locker, which was quite inconvenient: check. Bang next to the loo: check (perhaps there was some slight upside to this, but on the whole, especially as I was on the aisle seat, not). Opposite the cabin crew area at the front of economy: check. In a draught: check. I.e. all night people coming and going, lights coming on and off, etc etc.

Plus: the seats did not recline.

What with all this + the itching, I am surprised I managed to get even a bare hour's shut-eye.

Nor were my troubles over when I arrived at Heathrow. Somebody nearly went off with my case before realising it was not one pertaining to the group they were with, while I stood there waiting and waiting for it to come round on the carousel. Fortunately I spotted it on the other side where the group were amassing their impedimenta.

Partner had managed to get to Terminal 3 in time to meet me as I got through Customs, but o dear, the Heathrow Express was having a real morning of troubles.

Anyhow, home now, unpacked and two loads of washing accomplished along with various urgent matters of life administration.

Trying to stay upright until it is a reasonable time to go flop.

Comments

[commodorified]

*misses you already*

oh, PEARSON. *headdesk*