On the Plane Again

To Rome

Ack!  We got up at 4:45 so Amy could take us to Kenmore Park n Ride to catch the 522 to connect with the light rail to SEA TAC and we forgot to get a picture of Heidi standing by the Kenmore Lanes sign on Bothell Way!  (Frequent readers know that Kenmore Lanes is the point of true beginning. )Disasters immediately started.  All my carefully organized pre-printed tickets for trains, busses, planes and ferries (think Victoria Clipper) were scattered and forgotten throughout Amy’s house!  And we didn’t get our Italian electric plug converter! And our flight from Toronto to Rome was delayed! And my shoe became untied! (Well, I suppose that last one is normal.)

…and no one ever saw the pre printed tickets again.

Fortunately, we found out that the Point of True Beginning had moved to an Italian Pub, Grasso del Gatto, located past security down at the end of Concourse A right next to our gate. Required photo below.  Now its true we started drinking at 10:00 AM at Grasso del Gatto, but it was 7:00  PM in Rome.

In the Grasso del Gatto.

Stick Reeves Travel Tip #73 – To avoid jet lag, start your daily drinking in sync with the time zone to which you are travelling.

The flight was unremarkable except for the over-the-top politeness of the Canadians. (We were flying Air Canada.)

Flight Attendant/Agent de bord: (quietly) Would it be ok if I gave you the emergency information now?  I would like to use English.  Would that be OK?

The only drama was a Canadian sitting behind us who took umbrage at having to fill out the same customs forms as everyone else.

Man: But I’m Canadian! Going back into my own country!  Why do I have to fill this out? And look! They are asking if I am a criminal!  No!  I’m Canadian!  Mais je suis Canadien! Retourner dan mon pays! Pourquoi dois-je remplir cella? Et regarde, ils demandent si je suis criminal! Non je suis Canadien. La vie est l’enfer.

Readers of this blog may question the veracity of the previous quotes, but I assure you, scout’s honor, they are both accurate.

When Canadians de-plane, they get off row by row starting and the front and working to the back of the plane.  Everyone helps get all the luggage down from the overhead bins, and so the plane empties rather more quickly than it otherwise would, eh?

Because we were flying on to Rome, we were told we did not have to go through customs.  We felt smug about this until as we walked to our next gate, we ran into the familiar gates and guards.  Not customs, an international checkpoint/point de controle international! At least we didn’t have to fill out the form/forme.

There was another Point of True Beginning here in the Toronto airport!  And, at this bar pub, Graisse d’un Ours Rance one orders using an I pad mounted at the table!  By the time Heidi was done randomly taping the screen, there were three attendants with us politely asking how they could help, an order of Seal Fur Pup Liver Patte’ arrived, and our seats had been upgraded to the ones with lots of leg room just behind the bulkhead to second class steerage. We were in the back of the plane, third class steerage, or as it is known in the industry, “bilge-rat scum seats.”  Concerned over our self-esteem, Air Canada gave all of us bilge rats a small plastic trophy on our seats.  Each was emblazoned in teeny-tiny letters with You are important too / vous etes important aussi, rat de la peste. Anyway, Heidi asked if they couldn’t get our plane to leave on time.  They urgently conferred and made a phone call, “There’s a lady here who wants 840 to leave on time!” our gate was changed and we took off on time!  Apparently our pilot had the plane politely waiting in line for his assigned gate, which had been taken by a China Air plane whose pilots pretended not to understand English or French.  Although it was a stretch, he agreed to take the next gate down, which was open.

This was one of the big 777 Boeing planes – seats five hundred!  Ten across! 15 Flight Attendants/Agents de bord! Now in a school it’s a rule of thumb that 1% of the kids are going to have a discipline problem on any given day.  So apply that to a plane of 500, and its certain someone is going to act out.  On this plane, she was sitting next to me!  (Not Heidi, on the other side)

Apparently, she took umbrage with her dinner of Riz ‘a Rance, marched to the back of the plane, and threw it at an attendant/Agent de bord!  The passenger was quite small, very quiet, but apparently there was something about that rice…  Suddenly there were four very large male attendants/agents de bord with their latex gloves on and the woman chief steward, and while the men scowled and flexed, the chief steward said, “Throwing that tray was inappropriate! If you do anything else, we will land and put you off the plane!” The largest male said, “Nous ailons vous jeter sans atterrir.”  What to tick off a Canadian? Act inappropriately!

Even with the break in Toronto, it was a loooooong flight to Rome.  One is up for just over a day if one does not sleep.  By the time one lands, one’s face looks like a Dali portrait.  I did sleep on the plane but Heidi did not.  Like she does after every flight to Europe, she mumbled, “Never again!” as she got off the plane.  Italian customs is a breeze – OK,yes? (gestures broadly) Go! Go!

Next time – Hotel delle Province