Joe, the great taxi driver, is picking me up at 5:30 to get me to the airport by 6 as I have an 8am flight.
I hate the check-in process and this time I have good reason; I just know my bag will be overweight. Sure enough, it's 6lbs over. So I unlock it and pull out the zip lock bag full of toiletries. The agent looks at me aghast. "Oh you can't take those on the plane, those are all liquids or aerosol." "Yes I know," I say, "they are going in the garbage can." "Oh!" she says, quite shocked. Well, what else am I supposed to do? My carry on bag is rather full and a couple of pairs of socks that I might be able to squash in there won't help the weight any! It's still 3lbs over and she scowls and shakes her head so I take out a couple of things and jam them into my purse. That gets it down to 52lbs, 2lbs over and she nods, much to my relief. As I walk over to the trash to drop the bag of toiletries into it, I am wishing I had left them behind for the housekeeping staff.
It looks like today is going to be a sunny day on Grenada. Rats. I wish this weather had happened yesterday. I was quite sad not to have a last swim and lie out in the hot sunshine.
My flights are somewhat uneventful except that, on the longest leg, I have a 300lb, 6'8" guy in a stained white t-shirt sitting in the seat in front of me and he puts the seat back in recline before we are even off the ground. It stays that way the whole flight. And every time I go into the pocket or even tap the back of his seat it with my foot when I cross my legs, he looks over his shoulder towards me. What I'd like to do is ram my feet in the back of it over and over. Why? Well for one, he keeps pushing back in the seat like he wants it to go further back, and with his weight it does move back a few inches each time. For another he scratches the back of his head every 10 minutes and I get to watch dandruff drift down onto my tray. So gross! He also gets up at one point and stands fully on my foot, while I am sleeping, jarring me painfully awake. I have an isle seat so that I can stretch my leg with the bad knee out to keep it from seizing up. He doesn't even acknowledge that he did it, let alone apologize. The big lug.
On the last flight, there is an old couple beside me, both tiny and wiry. They look like they used to be hippies back in the day. They are from Colorado and are taking their first trip to BC. They are very sweet but at one point she puts on these huge headphones, cranks her tunes on an iPod, and starts bopping about in her seat, right beside me. So annoying.
I can't recall a time I have ever been happier to get off a plane.
I take the skytrain and then the Seabus back to Vancouver where my daughter meets me and drives me home. It feels good to be back.
A few days later, I see my granddaughter and she loves the few things I bought for her; the Caribbean doll, the t-shirt, and a lovely illustrated children's book about kids in the Caribbean.
It is so great to see her again, I have missed her so so very much. And she is very excited to see me. Ashleigh tells me that yesterday, she went to the door and stood there insisting that she go to 'Nan's'. She also tells me that Malia had talked frequently about me the past week so it was like she knew I was coming home when she stood at the door. So cute!
The whole nutmeg, bagged jerk seasoning, chocolate bars, and hot chocolate balls were a hit with Ashleigh as well.
Now to do about 5 loads of laundry. Everything, worn or not, needs to go through the wash. The humidity of the Caribbean gets into everything and needs to be washed and dried out before putting things away.
Now to do about 5 loads of laundry. Everything, worn or not, needs to go through the wash. The humidity of the Caribbean gets into everything and needs to be washed and dried out before putting things away.
Hmmm... maybe that is why my bags are always heavier coming back than going, even when I don't buy much and give lots away while gone. And I always assumed it was the scales at the check in that were out!
