An Inauspicious Start

The plane departed on time, and it was a beautiful day to fly. We launched north out of SFO, with stunning views of the city, and crested over Oakland. The plane banked left, affording a perspective on the Bay Bridge project, then Alcatraz and the Golden Gate...

Wait! We're going the wrong way!

Sure enough, the captain comes on--something won't close and there's no way to pressurize the cabin. And breathing is, you know, important.

So back to SFO for a two-hour repair job, then back in the air. Air Canada must be commended for comping everyone drinks.

The net result is that we got into Toronto 15 minutes after my connection departed. So I'm stuck here, where it's about 90 degrees at midnight with plenty of humidity and it feels like Texas. But in Canada. Yet, I've got to say, Air Canada came through again. I got off the plane and was immediately greeted by their staff:

"Name?"

"Moon."

"Here is a voucher for the hotel, plus dinner. We've booked you on the earliest departing flight tomorrow morning. Please clear customs, pick up your bags and proceed to this shuttle location."

I love the Canadians. I think American carriers don't do this just so people have an opportunity to get it off their chests at the expense of some poor night-shift employee, but this makes much more sense.

Anyway, the fun began when I noticed passengers off the same flight standing at the wrong baggage carousel, so I guided them to the right one. Then the London luggage got delayed so the group grew and, once the bags were secured, tried to find the shuttle stop. No one wanted to ask for directions. So I did. Then we picked up some stragglers. Then the shuttle didn't arrive for 30 minutes and guess who called the hotel. Not to be all Den Mother about it--I enjoy helping out where I can--but it was like accounting for ADHD ducklings.

Anyway, departing Toronto 8:50, arriving London 21:00. I just hope Fergus Henderson's place is still open by the time I get in.