I am jet lagged in my own city.
Yes. My Own City.
It seems the world turned into a crazy dream in which Life said to me “Just Kidding!” in a most unfortunate way. I last posted perhaps 19 hours ago. Since then, I have eaten, slept, and made my ways through from Plan B to Plan H or I. Let me explain:
18 hours ago I was patiently waiting in the quiet airport to go through security and board a plane. It had been a crazy day.
And then, it got crazier.
I thought it was odd that security wasn’t open yet as I watched the clock hands creep towards departure time. Then the announcement came – the incoming flight was delayed, offsetting my first flight in three that would take me to Manitoba.
This was not good. My layovers were tight. I went to the helpful ladies at the desk and handed over my boarding passes.
“Will I make my connecting flight?” I asked. Between fried brain cells and rising emotions, I was in no state to do the math.
For a few minutes there was a sliver of hope.
“You would have 10 minutes. It would take a miracle and a run like Heck…” She looked skeptical.
But I believe in miracles, so I was willing to try it. At least I’d make it to Vancouver.
That is, until the next Delayed announcement came on. And the next.
It was bad news, bears.
There may have been tears, just a few. I was still saving the real breakdown for the plane. I couldn’t afford too many tears yet, and I needed my voice to make phone calls. There were problems to address.
Thankfully, ladies were gracious, hardworking, and helpful with the whole thing. 45 minutes later we had worked through a set of at least 5 route options working with about 10 different flights trying to get me in Manitoba as soon as could be. Connections, timing, available seats… ’twas a stressful puzzle, indeed.
Texts, emails, and phone calls were made, while the ladies searched schedules and changed info. The end plan was that I return at 5am, get on a plane and be in Winnipeg by 2.00pm the next day.
That is today.
I am not in Winnipeg.
I am still in Prince George.
My flight was cancelled.
I didn’t even ask why.
And no, I didn’t even cry.
I discovered this after 4 hours of broken sleep, 8 different flight changes and boarding passes, 3 trips to the airport, my first Canadian taxi ride, and a variety of baggage stickers checkings-and-uncheckings. I was pooped. But at least I was past the panic stage! Instead, I was resigned. I would now fly at 1pm and there was no way to make it to Toba and still get my ride North. They issued me some NEW boarding passes (again) and I emailed my employers.
And then I sat.
At 5:00am I sat in that quiet room, knowing I didn’t need to be there until noon. I considered my options and said, “Ok God. What now?”
Which is about the time Karen walked in. Karen is a mom from camp. She’s acquainted with me from my work there the past two summers.
“Well Hello!” She greeted. “Where are you off to?”
My reply was rather feeble. But after hearing my saga, she gave me a lift to town and generally just took care of me.
She made me laugh some. We talked about camp and I told her about my early morning Croatian taxi driver as we searched for coffee shops at 6am.
And then, my employers called back!
Which brought about Plan J. Since it was now impossible to catch the previously planned ride from Winnipeg into The North, we were really not in a good place.
“You know, if it helps, I’m not afraid of the bus…” I mentioned.
Which I how I ended up back at the airport with Karen, talking to Cindi, (the wonderful Air Canada Lady who has my name forever etched into her memory) getting a full refund for my flights, before returning to an Actually Open coffeeshop to wait for midnight to come.
Because that is when, in theory,
I will board a bus to make it to Northern Manitoba.
Yes, it’s a long story.
And yes, it’s been a long day.
(But not as bad as yesterday!)