Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

I know that I stole the title of this blog from a movie, but it just so perfectly describes our trip home.

For some reason known only to the gods of travel, we were unable to get any flight out of San Francisco in the daytime.  And the one that we could afford had an extra two stops before it landed us in Ottawa. So this “early to bed, early to rise “person gave up what little health, wealth, and wisdom she had left to board a plane shortly after midnight.

Air travel has changed. Gone are the days of being pampered by an air hostess, offered treats and pillows. Nowadays, pillows are for the first class passengers only. I felt lucky to find a tiny, thin blanket in a plastic bag thrown carelessly onto my seat when I arrived. And I must have missed the beverage cart during my half hour nap, because I received absolutely no refreshments through the 3 hour flight.

I did enjoy watching the sun rise rapidly towards us in the morning, and through the magic of time zones we landed in Minnesota in time for breakfast.

At the beginning, I had been a little concerned about this hopscotch flight across the country. On our reverse trip west, in reasonable daylight hours, our first flight was delayed due to mechanical problems. So we missed the next two flights, but were offered a new and more direct option, which would have turned out well except that plane also sat at the gate receiving emergency resuscitation before we could leave. Again.

But this midnight gamble paid off. All flights went smoothly and all connections were made without any mad dashes down the airport concourse. We even had time for meals in between. Since they obviously aren’t offered on the planes anymore. But it lent the trip a unique flavour: breakfast in Minneapolis, and lunch in Detroit.

We landed in Ottawa just before supper time. As a new treat, we had booked a train ride from Ottawa to Kingston. It had been years since I rode a train, and I was looking forward to the experience.  I even expected to enjoy supper in the dining car on the last leisurely leg home. Guess what?  Train travel ain’t what it used to be, either. Gone are the glamorous days of luxury and ease. Why drag a dining car down the tracks for the passengers’ enjoyment when a “snack cart” would do? Instead of hot meals, let’s offer a sandwich! I’m sure there was some bean counter involved in that decision. Have you noticed the drop in rail passengers? Hmmmm...

Oh well.  At least wine and beer is offered on the menu, and a cheese plate, however tiny. That at least is not a bad way to end a very long day.

So it was disappointing to be told that they had run out of wine. It must have been the French indulgence, since that particular train originated in Montreal and we got on in Ottawa. The rail executives making the supply decisions obviously didn’t think this through.

Our very last leg before a real bed was the automobile. Or in our case, our truck, graciously driven by my brother-in-law coming to pick us up at the station in Kingston.  Except he didn’t make it. Our truck, miffed at being left out of our recent trip, flashed red warning lights in his eyes just after he had driven too far from home to walk back. This wasn’t a subtle hint that maybe he should turn around and go back. No, no. This was a firm “STOP ENGINE” warning. So he did. At the side of the road.

Thank goodness for cell phones.

We were met at the train by a different member of the family, but we were met. And we all made it to our beds that night, although much later than originally expected. The truck was towed to a repair shop and the not-so-dire problem fixed the next day.

Ah, adventure. By planes, trains, and automobiles.

W