Well, after seeing you to the gate, I looked at the clock, I had four more minutes of free parking, then it’s my ass.
I got to the elevator and hightailed it to my car. Sped like a bat out of hell.
check out time 7:12 am, 30 minutes on the dot.
Those bastards aren’t going to get another penny out of us!

When I was coming back to Canada. I had to re-open my luggage that took three days to pack. Have you ever packed dirty clothes? Well their dirty and it seems that they magically inflate in your bag so you have to really pack them well and tight because they are also heavy.

Because I was going to encounter a lay over and a switch of planes. I wanted to bring my carry on and suitcase on the plane. Unbeknownst to me or my lack of understanding – I came through the check in and had to take off my sandals along with open the lock on my suitcase while he rifled through my belongings and when he open my toiletries bag I thought I was going to die. As I got more and more visibily upset he continues to uproot all three days of creative packing. He takes out my tube of toothpaste, my gel (I now have an afro – thank you very much), my perfume, my cream, clear nail polish and my bottle of glasses cleaner and tells me I have to put them in a clear bag ( which I can go back out and buy) and put in my oversized purse. Are you kidding me buy a ziplock bag – for $3 CI – the equivalent of $5 CDN. Is the man crazy with a capital K? Well you know I can’t fit everything that is in a toiletry bag into my small ziplock bag I had the good foresight to carry – so out goes my nail polish, my new gel and glasses cleaner. I am livid because I left the almost empty stuff back at home.

There the dude tries to stff everything back in so he can broke my zipper. I have never been rude when I am travelling because I truly want to return home and have an innate fear that they will detain me. And my dear friends I am too pretty for jail do you know what I mean.

So I grab it out of his hands and proceed to have to re-pack my bag as Customs stares at me. And I feel slightly quesy since I am holding up the line behind me and let me tell you I agree – not all travellers are pleasant. They were getting quite snarly even though our planes were schedulled to leave for another 1.5 hours. So relax “nu man!”. Refusing to leave with CI money I burn my dollars on alcohol to realize that a simple ham and cheese sandwich costs the equivalent of $8. I now only have $3 and change – alas no food or drinks here. Hopefully I pray they will at least give me a bag of peanuts with my gingerale on the plane. As I bide my time writing in my jounal my one unpacked and favourite wiritng pen runs out of ink forcing me to purchase one. Oh well at least I have enough money to score a cheap Island pen at the gift shop.

Well I got my gingerale but not a peanut was to be had. I get on the plane and I am badgered by a flight attendanct who constantly had to remind me of things I both know and read in my case. Miss you have to put your purse up, miss you have to put your phone away, miss you have to turn off your MP3 player. All of these I know and were attempting to do when he kept pouncing on me. To which I responded to “I know I am”. I kept thinking “listen here bro – you will be singing soprano and your wife will me hunting me down in the future after I am though with you if you don’t back off?”

Once I landed in North Carolina, I had to go through Customs and the direction of the questions seemed off – After where did you travel (which is stamped in the passport – I can’t lie)? He asks who did you travel with? I said on my own. “you went by yourself to the island?” “on your own”. No I went with my husband and decided to leave his pieces there. Yes sir I went by myself. “What was the purpose of your trip” Since its on my customs form as pleasure – just take my word for it. As I repeat this response. He stares into my eyes and writes a big red symbol on my card. I think or great they are going to put me through the wringer.

I go to another desk – where I am asked the same questions again and then told I will need to pack my alcohol into my luggage and check it. I am both relieved but upset that I have to open my bag again in front of people. There are other mishaps on the way but I won’t bore you.

When its time to go through Canadian Customs I get another inquiry. Purpose of visit? Pleasure. Where did you stay? At a friend’s. How do you know this person? Is this really relevant, I think I worked with her I respond. Where? in Ottawa. And you still know them. Ah yeah – I don’t change friends like I do my underwear. She looks at me – I guess to intimidate me. But what the heck. I am so glad to be home after 10 hours of travelling to get home and as I pull my luggage out of the trunk my back snaps – I have officially put my back out. Once I am in the house I discover that my bag (which was borrowed from my mom) was searched again in North Carolina and they have broken my new sturdy lock and zipper.

But whatever – all is fair in love and travel. Love to do it but you are right Customer Service with a smile is somewhat missing from the travelling experience and fortunately that will not cure me of the wanderlust urge. Thank GOD – the world was meant for exploring and overcoming the challenges to get our intended destinations.

Michy