As I was telling him the saga of my need to return to Canada before the border closed, my cab driver from Edmonton airport to my house said, “Your country called you home.” I thought that was a pleasing way to think of it.
I had originally planned to return in May but when COVID-19 changed everyone’s plans, I cancelled that flight and booked another one. Yesterday, Air Canada cancelled that flight and I began to fear I had left it too late to get back. When I went online to try to book a different flight, the system dumped me out. The wait time on the phone was two hours and I couldn’t bear the thought of that, so a few hours later I tried the website again. This time I was able to book a flight.
Just to be absolutely sure I was going to get on a plane, I got to San Jose airport three hours before the flight. The place was almost empty. I have never seen it so devoid of people. Store clerks were pacing the floors, looking very bored.
The check-in was easy and the screening for Coronavirus turned out to be simply the counter agent asking me a few questions about my health and my travels. That was it. I had even managed to pack my bag so that it weighed 49 lbs–one pound below the limit! Damn, I’m good.
As I was leaving the counter I heard the agent ask the next person “Do you have a Canadian passport? You can’t get on this plane without a Canadian passport.” It felt like a moment from one of those dystopian sci-fi movies.
As I waited for my flight while wearing latex gloves and a dust mask, I bought a sandwich to eat on the plane and watched CNN’s never-ending cascade of misery. At first, there were only two of us waiting for the plane but nearer the time of departure a few more folks arrived. I think in the end there were 15 of us on the plane.
The flight to Vancouver was just over two hours, and I wasn’t really hungry. I did eat half of the sandwich, though. They weren’t offering the usual food and drink service because of the virus, but we were given small bottles of water.
When we arrived in Vancouver, I mistakenly thought the boarding time on my boarding card was the departure time, and I was a bit panicked that I might not make it. After a long walk through the airport, people with connecting flights were ushered to an area where a computer asked us the same questions we had been asked at check-in.
In addition, we were asked the usual questions about how many goods we were bringing back and whether or not we had any meat or fish or whatever else it is they ask about. I said “No” to everything. It wasn’t until I had seen the passport control person and walked through the double doors to freedom that I realized I had lied. I still had half a turkey sandwich in my bag. Ooops.
After that, I was directed to an outside area where I was told to get on a bus that would take me to the domestic flights terminal. By this time, it was only ten minutes before the time on my boarding card and I was in a bit of a tizz.
When we got to the terminal I found, on the second attempt, the location of my departure gate on the information board. It said the plane to Edmonton was boarding. You should have seen me running down the hallway as fast as I could! That’s not very fast, more of a sprightly waddle than a run, but it seemed to be the necessary thing to do at the time.
At the gate, I ran to the doorway leading to the plane and was stopped by a man who looked very cross that I had done so without checking in with him first. I breathlessly told him that this was my plane and I didn’t want to miss it. I asked if he had closed the gate. He said, twice, “We haven’t begun boarding yet.” Oh. Phew. That gave me time to go to the loo and also to ditch the offending sandwich.
The flight to Edmonton left early (which is unusual) and was an uneventful short trip. Finding the carousel at Edmonton which was displaying the luggage from my plane was not easy, and in the end I found it quite by chance because I recognized some of the passengers who were standing about looking for their cases.
After that, it was just a matter of going outside and finding a cab and the pleasant driver who thought it was a good thing that my country called me home. I felt welcomed.
Snowbird of Paradise 
What an eloquent cab driver! I am so glad you are home; I was wondering. One of the effects of the pandemic is a seem to need to “count noses” and hear from people. Even people I have never met.
Yes, he did seem to be eloquent. He was also up on the latest news from UK! A very smart cab driver.
I agree that this seems to be a time to ensure that people we know or even don’t know are all OK. That’s very comforting.
Glad you made it home.
Thanks, Barb. Me too.
So glad to hear you made it home before the border closes. Time to exhale.
I think it will take me a day to wind down!
Welcome home!
Thanks, June.
Possibly because of other grief in my life right now, your safe return to Edmonton and Canada had become a huge concern. Reading the initial flight had been cancelled rocked my lil world. Then I awakened to find this blog post and I felt such relief that tears ran down my face. What an amazing cab driver!I always feel such gratitude when I come across someone who appears to like their jobs. “Welcome home Anne”. All you now have is time, so take that time to re-orient and settle in and relax!
Oh, Mary Beth, you are a sweetheart. Thank you for caring. I am going to be in isolation for a couple of weeks, but other than that it is good to be back.
I felt like Mary Beth did I was worried you would be stuck on this side, for some reason I want to be in Canada right now. We are on week 3 of being at home. Not necessarily self isolation. The kids go outside weather permitting but I substituted at the school so that little bit of extra income is now gone. Budget wise I am good until next month so it is time to apply for my SS early…very happy you are home.
I will be thinking of you Susan. These are difficult times but especially so for those who have to forego an income.
I am in isolation here because the government requires 14 days quarantine for everyone coming in to Canada from another country. Also, my daughter-in-law works with an at-risk population and her boss has told her not to come in contact with me at all. Also, by extension, I cannot be in contact with my son and grandson.
So, while we are all in the same house, my suite is closed to theirs. We are communicating electronically still. I’m glad we can do that, at least!
That’s great you made your connection and could get through by phone to book your flight. I waited for hours trying to connect with an agent to cancel my flight…will try again tomorrow.
I didn’t get through on the phone. I gave up on that. I made my booking online…eventually. It took a couple of tries, though.
Just a “heads up,” I ended up paying three times for my return flight (long story, another blog post to come) and now I’m struggling to apply for a refund. Even so, I’m glad to be back.
Wow..that’s a crazy fee. One of my friends is flying back from Florida…had to pay $1200.00.
Well, it’s more of a billing snafu than a fee, but I get your point. There comes a point where you’ll pay anything.
Today, Justin Trudeau said “We’re working with Canadian airlines to make commercial flights available to as many Canadians who are stranded as possible,” said Trudeau. All the while taking into account the number of Canadians in specific areas of the world, the closure of air space, and the local situation.
“We won’t be able to reach everyone but we’re going to do our best to help those we can,” he said.”
I don’t know where you are, easterntrekker, but a Canadian Embassy or Air Canada (if you can get through) should be able to tell you what you need to do next.
Welcome Home! I’m glad you made it.
I am glad, too! Thank you, Lael-Heart.