Some of the Things I Hate about Air Travel Part I

The first thing I hate about air travel is the lead-up to getting on the plane. If ever there was a process designed to make the average traveler feel helpless, slightly disoriented, and edgy (what a combination!) it is the gamut of not-really-secure security checks that she must go through just to get to the departure lounge.

And next there is the lounge itself, which isn’t really conducive to lounging. The only lounge that looks like a departure lounge is, well, a departure lounge. Generally hideously decorated, furnished from the Uncomfortable Furniture Hut, the chairs are designed to batter the average traveler into submission. The magazines and paperback novels are overpriced and the food and snacks are too expensive. The bottled water is good. That’s all I can say.

And then there is the airplane.  A heavier-than-air tube that flies, defying gravity and common sense.  If you have a good flight, you won't get bounced around too much. The seats are uncomfortable, the washrooms are too tiny for words.  You never know who will be sitting behind you or in front of you or beside you, or who will talk all night long.  On the way to England, Linda and I have selected seats in the part of the plane where the seats are only two abreast, so we won't have a seat mate for that leg of the trip.  The food is a bit of a joke, and the coffee and tea are not so great.

Finally, once the plane has landed you must deal with the people who leap up the very second the seat belt light goes off, to start rummaging around in the overhead bins for their stuff, only to stand there and jam up the aisles so that no one else can get their stuff.  Following that there is the cattle-like slow walk in a line of weary travelers, through customs, and on to the luggage carousel.  If you have been delayed too long in customs, you can find that your luggage has been ignominiously dumped to the side of the room to make way for the next plane-load of suitcases, where it will sit, forlorn and lonely, possibly prey to the kind of people who make off with other people's luggage, until you arrive to claim it.

My New Shoes

These are my new shoes. They are very comfy.

They contain no animal products of any kind, so I am very happy about that.

The Shoe Crisis is Over

Last night I arranged to meet Linda after school, in the hopes that I could put an end to the shoe crisis. I brought the shoes with me so that I could show them to Linda. Her verdict was that the shoes were fine, the colour was fine and that I had not completely blown it. She said I could keep the shoes.

We took the streetcar to Mountain Equipment Co-op to look for a wheeled duffle bag. We have so much stuff to carry that we will need a big bag. The problem is that all of the large bags we have weigh ten pounds when they are empty, leaving us only forty pounds of cargo, and we have so much to bring. We have the soccer equipment and all of the school supplies to pack. And while it is obvious that we won’t be able to pack all of the extra supplies in just our two bags, we still have to be able to pack our own stuff, including a sleeping bag, and enough clothes for three weeks.

It turns out that Mountain Equipment Coop no longer carries wheeled duffels, just wheeled backpacks, and they were all ugly. We went upstairs and had a look at their mosquito nets, but didn’t buy anything. And then we found ourselves standing in the shoe department. I looked at a few pairs and I found a pair that had no leather on them, and I tried them on. I walked around. They felt good. I waffled. I bought them. That means there were two pairs of hiking boots vying for my attention.

We went across the road to Europe Bound to scope out their bags, but their wheeled duffels were as ugly as the ones in Mountain Equipment Coop and cost over $200. Linda picked up the last treated mosquito net, but one of the chaps there said he would phone the Oakville branch of the store to see if they had one, and sure enough they had one left. Apparently there will be no more treated mosquito nets until November. Although the nets are available in Rwanda, I was afraid of not being able to get one on the first day, and then having to spend the night without one. Linda will pick it up for me on Thursday.

We returned to Linda’s to have dinner (“chicken” and bean salad, quite nice) and to make a decision about the shoes. I put one of each shoe on, and then walked up and down the long hall at Linda’s condo. As I say the hall is long, much longer than the sort of walking that could be done in a shoe department. By the time I was partway back on the return walk, the shoe from the first pair I bought was hurting my toe. It turns out that the shoe is not too flexible. I made my decision. But that was not necessarily a happy moment: now I had a pair of shoes to return, and I hate returning things to stores. I had a nice pair of shoes for the trip, but either way, I had a pair of shoes to return.

Today I wore my new shoes to work. My feet felt all energized and peppy. I strode the halls with vim all day. After school I returned the shoes with no problem.

It's Official: I’m no longer allowed to shop for shoes on my own.

I’m no longer allowed to shop for shoes on my own.

My attempt to buy hiking shoes for this trip has turned into a disaster of sorts, and has resulted in me buying a pair of shoes I know I will never wear, and which I now must return to the store – which is a huge hassle, and a source of anxiety for me.

I will make a second attempt at purchasing hiking shoes tomorrow evening, and Linda will come with me to direct the whole process.