Flurries, mild, temps minus 5
Nice day - a little snow. Just came back from breakfast with Michael. Hard to believe I slogged through snow to breakfast here and will be having dinner in the heat of Arizona.
My only concern is a very tight connection - one hour, in Cleveland. Doesn't leave room for any delay in the first flight. Still, weather's not bad so it shouldn't be a problem. But I always relax more when I'm on the connection.
On hectic days I tend to break things down in my head, so the day doesn't seem to daunting. Get to airport, check through security, get on plane, find connecting flight, fly to Phoenix, get taxi to hotel.
There. And all I need to think about is the task at hand, not the 5 to come. Makes life much easier, fun, less stressful. So right now all I need concern myself with is the taxi to the airport. Pretty easy.
I remember going on the US tour last year for The Cruelest Month. First stop was New York, but a massive snowstorm closed all the airports, including Montreal. Just barely made the first event, having begged my way onto a plane. That won't be a problem this time, just that connection. And my reasons are selfish....I really want to be comfortable in Phoenix to watch the Inauguration tomorrow - not on some make-up flight. But, happily, either way is fine.
And Happy Martin Luther King day. Listening to some of his speeches, and reading some in the weekend papers. Like Shakespere, I can't believe how he captures the human soul. And his words are timeless.
So excited about the Inauguration - and thrilled to be experiencing it with Americans, in Phoenix. And so looking forward to this launch for A RULE AGAINST MURDER.
Showing posts with label flights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flights. Show all posts
Monday, 19 January 2009
Monday, 15 September 2008
Oh, yes, I'm sure it'll be fine - says the guy in Wales.
riany then cleared and now sunny. Temps 20
We're back in Montreal! What a long day yesterday was. Travel days always are. We got up around 7:30 in Cambridge, had breakfast in the flat then packed and rolled the suitcases through the cobbled streets (what a racket! thud, thud, thud - and shaking our arms off) to the bus-stop. Thankfully it's only a couple of blocks away - couldn't be more convenient. And after a week of rain it was finally sunny. We were supposed to catch the 11am bus to the airport but when we arrived at about 10:30 a bus to Heathrow was waiting, so we hopped on.
Not sure we saved ourselves any time. This seemed to be the milk-run. Still, we got to relax and watch the rolling green hills go by.
I think the most stressful part of the whole day was getting from the central bus station at Heathrow to Terminal 4. It involved waiting with about 100 other people, all like us with tons of luggage, for 4 elevators. When one door opened we all tried to crowd in. It was a total crap shoot - a Darwinian experiment. I wondered if there were CCTV cameras recording it for some reality show on torture and human dynamics.
I don't react well in those situations. I generally try to be courteous, allowing others, especially elderly people in. But after being screwed a few times I become worse than anyone - giving sneering, glaring looks - 'Just try it' my face snarls. And I'm yelling at Michael - 'Over there, over there - quick!' He meanwhile, has a far-away look on his face and a slight smile. He's gone.
Once down the elevator (we have to catch 2!!) we had to find the train link from that terminal to Terminal 4. Then wait with the growing crowds, then race to the door with 100 other people and shove our way in. Honestly. I hate it. Get very stressed. I want to be decent, and kind and accommodating. But I'd like others to be that way for me too. And I learned quickly, if I want to be like that (which is fine) I'd better be prepared to live out my life in the train station. Never actually going anywhere.
Once at Terminal 4 life became easier. We get to use the First Class check in - much faster. There I can be courteous because there's no one else there. Very helpful.
Then through security and off to the first class lounge where they serve hot and cold food, have beverages and newspapers. I'm tempted to say for free, but you pay for it a thousand times over in the ticket.
The flight itself was easy, except it was delayed an hour. Seems, the pilot explained once we were onboard and couldn't escape, someone backed a truck into a cargo door of the plane. So they had to inspect it, measure it, photograph it - have enginners look, then send the whole report to some guy whgo lives in Wales. He had to interrupt his dinner to look at the info. Then he gave his OK.
I think two things about flying. 1) Children should be placed, along with their parents and a lot of toys, into a cargo bay. 2) Any engineer who says a plane is safe after being damaged should be forced to fly on it.
We had great seats - loads of legroom - and spent the flight plugged into our ipods. I finished editing book 5 at 38,000 feet, somewhere over the Atlantic. Amazing feeling.
It was 26 degrees in Montreal at 9pm when we landed. We raced for security - but arrived behind 600 other people. Still, the line went quickly and we got our luggage, grabbed a cab and were home within an hour of the plane landing. Heaven.
It's so great to be back in the Montreal apartment. We have a fabvulous breakfast out at Chez Cora's - then Michael got to work on his book while I walked to the shops and got us some salads and diet ginger ale for lunch. Spent the morning replying to emails and writing articles people wanted. Need to remember a couple of interview requests as well.
Tomorrow we drive to Elora, Ontario. About a 7 hour drive. To Cousin Marjorie (one of the templates for Ruth). She adores food, and so we're taking her and her/our very good friend Margo Morgan (who had a recipe column in Canada for many years under the name Margo Oliver and put out a number of cookbooks) to a restaurant they love in Niagara on the lake. It's about a 2 hours drive each way and they're beyond doing it themselves. This must be one fantastic restaurant. I'm dying to see it - and have a meal. Will report back, mes amis.
Won't be able to blog again until we reach the hotel in Toronto on Thursday. The family's descending for a Penny family reunion. Rob, Audi and Sarah from Edmonton, Michael and me from Quebec and Doug, Mary, Brian, Roslyn and Charlie from Toronto. We bought giant Toblerone bars for the kids...if Michael doesn't eat them first. We'll see how long we last before the first tears.
Talk to you then - hope you're well. It is great to be home!
We're back in Montreal! What a long day yesterday was. Travel days always are. We got up around 7:30 in Cambridge, had breakfast in the flat then packed and rolled the suitcases through the cobbled streets (what a racket! thud, thud, thud - and shaking our arms off) to the bus-stop. Thankfully it's only a couple of blocks away - couldn't be more convenient. And after a week of rain it was finally sunny. We were supposed to catch the 11am bus to the airport but when we arrived at about 10:30 a bus to Heathrow was waiting, so we hopped on.
Not sure we saved ourselves any time. This seemed to be the milk-run. Still, we got to relax and watch the rolling green hills go by.
I think the most stressful part of the whole day was getting from the central bus station at Heathrow to Terminal 4. It involved waiting with about 100 other people, all like us with tons of luggage, for 4 elevators. When one door opened we all tried to crowd in. It was a total crap shoot - a Darwinian experiment. I wondered if there were CCTV cameras recording it for some reality show on torture and human dynamics.
I don't react well in those situations. I generally try to be courteous, allowing others, especially elderly people in. But after being screwed a few times I become worse than anyone - giving sneering, glaring looks - 'Just try it' my face snarls. And I'm yelling at Michael - 'Over there, over there - quick!' He meanwhile, has a far-away look on his face and a slight smile. He's gone.
Once down the elevator (we have to catch 2!!) we had to find the train link from that terminal to Terminal 4. Then wait with the growing crowds, then race to the door with 100 other people and shove our way in. Honestly. I hate it. Get very stressed. I want to be decent, and kind and accommodating. But I'd like others to be that way for me too. And I learned quickly, if I want to be like that (which is fine) I'd better be prepared to live out my life in the train station. Never actually going anywhere.
Once at Terminal 4 life became easier. We get to use the First Class check in - much faster. There I can be courteous because there's no one else there. Very helpful.
Then through security and off to the first class lounge where they serve hot and cold food, have beverages and newspapers. I'm tempted to say for free, but you pay for it a thousand times over in the ticket.
The flight itself was easy, except it was delayed an hour. Seems, the pilot explained once we were onboard and couldn't escape, someone backed a truck into a cargo door of the plane. So they had to inspect it, measure it, photograph it - have enginners look, then send the whole report to some guy whgo lives in Wales. He had to interrupt his dinner to look at the info. Then he gave his OK.
I think two things about flying. 1) Children should be placed, along with their parents and a lot of toys, into a cargo bay. 2) Any engineer who says a plane is safe after being damaged should be forced to fly on it.
We had great seats - loads of legroom - and spent the flight plugged into our ipods. I finished editing book 5 at 38,000 feet, somewhere over the Atlantic. Amazing feeling.
It was 26 degrees in Montreal at 9pm when we landed. We raced for security - but arrived behind 600 other people. Still, the line went quickly and we got our luggage, grabbed a cab and were home within an hour of the plane landing. Heaven.
It's so great to be back in the Montreal apartment. We have a fabvulous breakfast out at Chez Cora's - then Michael got to work on his book while I walked to the shops and got us some salads and diet ginger ale for lunch. Spent the morning replying to emails and writing articles people wanted. Need to remember a couple of interview requests as well.
Tomorrow we drive to Elora, Ontario. About a 7 hour drive. To Cousin Marjorie (one of the templates for Ruth). She adores food, and so we're taking her and her/our very good friend Margo Morgan (who had a recipe column in Canada for many years under the name Margo Oliver and put out a number of cookbooks) to a restaurant they love in Niagara on the lake. It's about a 2 hours drive each way and they're beyond doing it themselves. This must be one fantastic restaurant. I'm dying to see it - and have a meal. Will report back, mes amis.
Won't be able to blog again until we reach the hotel in Toronto on Thursday. The family's descending for a Penny family reunion. Rob, Audi and Sarah from Edmonton, Michael and me from Quebec and Doug, Mary, Brian, Roslyn and Charlie from Toronto. We bought giant Toblerone bars for the kids...if Michael doesn't eat them first. We'll see how long we last before the first tears.
Talk to you then - hope you're well. It is great to be home!
Monday, 25 August 2008
Home
cloudy, temps 20
We're hoooome!
Wow did we ever have a great time on Mackinac Island! But it's good to be home. And with nothing to do except a luncheon on Thursday with friends for Michael to research his book. Looking forward to that. Looking forward to making Michael the centre of attention.
Long day yesterday. I tend to break days like that into segments in my mind. yesterday was in 9 sections. The horse-drawn carriage to the ferry. The ferry to Mackinaw City. The 2 hour limo drive to Traverse City. Getting through airport security. The American Eagle flight (45 minutes) to Chicago. The 2 1/2 hr layover in Chicago (happily spent in the first class lounge, a by-product of the around-the-world flights on BA last year), the 2 hr flight to Montreal. Canadian security, taxi home.
That way I just live in each segment and the day doesn't seem too long. As someone who's goal-oriented this approach seems to work. The day 'speeds' along.
Have figured out the Mackinac - Mackinaw issue. The island, with the hotel, is spelled 'Mackinac' but pronounced 'Mackinaw'. The city across the bay is pronouned and spelled 'Mackinaw'. Don't know why the difference.
Finally finished section 9 last night at 10pm. Got into the Montreal apartment. But everything went very smoothly - thanks once again to Robin Agnew's family. They'd arranged for us to fly from the island straight to Traverse City airport. 40 minute flight would have saved us 3 hours of ground/water travel. But scaredy-cat here decided I didn't want to get back onto the small plane. So they re-arranged everything. Without a murmur, without mocking.
A relief to be around people who are kind, not sarcastic. I was and am most grateful.
This morning we didn't set the alarm, but got up whenever, then went for breakfast in Montreal. Michael had a lunch with his great friend David and I went back to the apartment and cleaned up a few things. Then we drove back down here.
God, does it ever feel amazing not to have to edit or write book 5! Am taking the week off. Will read a hard copy of the manuscript during the week or so we're in England. We travel late next week.
Until then I'm on vacation. I'm very good at working hard, and very, very good at doing nothing. Watch me.
This blog, by the way, is going to get extremely boring over the next week. Consider it valium.
We're hoooome!
Wow did we ever have a great time on Mackinac Island! But it's good to be home. And with nothing to do except a luncheon on Thursday with friends for Michael to research his book. Looking forward to that. Looking forward to making Michael the centre of attention.
Long day yesterday. I tend to break days like that into segments in my mind. yesterday was in 9 sections. The horse-drawn carriage to the ferry. The ferry to Mackinaw City. The 2 hour limo drive to Traverse City. Getting through airport security. The American Eagle flight (45 minutes) to Chicago. The 2 1/2 hr layover in Chicago (happily spent in the first class lounge, a by-product of the around-the-world flights on BA last year), the 2 hr flight to Montreal. Canadian security, taxi home.
That way I just live in each segment and the day doesn't seem too long. As someone who's goal-oriented this approach seems to work. The day 'speeds' along.
Have figured out the Mackinac - Mackinaw issue. The island, with the hotel, is spelled 'Mackinac' but pronounced 'Mackinaw'. The city across the bay is pronouned and spelled 'Mackinaw'. Don't know why the difference.
Finally finished section 9 last night at 10pm. Got into the Montreal apartment. But everything went very smoothly - thanks once again to Robin Agnew's family. They'd arranged for us to fly from the island straight to Traverse City airport. 40 minute flight would have saved us 3 hours of ground/water travel. But scaredy-cat here decided I didn't want to get back onto the small plane. So they re-arranged everything. Without a murmur, without mocking.
A relief to be around people who are kind, not sarcastic. I was and am most grateful.
This morning we didn't set the alarm, but got up whenever, then went for breakfast in Montreal. Michael had a lunch with his great friend David and I went back to the apartment and cleaned up a few things. Then we drove back down here.
God, does it ever feel amazing not to have to edit or write book 5! Am taking the week off. Will read a hard copy of the manuscript during the week or so we're in England. We travel late next week.
Until then I'm on vacation. I'm very good at working hard, and very, very good at doing nothing. Watch me.
This blog, by the way, is going to get extremely boring over the next week. Consider it valium.
Thursday, 21 August 2008
A grand Grand Hotel
mainly sunny, mild, temps 25
Dear god, we've found Heaven and it's called the Grand Hotel and it's on Mackinac Island - on lake Michigan. Spread the good word.
Wow, is this place wonderful!!
Michael and I got up at 3:30 for a 6am flight from Montreal to Chicago, then another flight to Traverse City. Easy flights, not crowded. I was a little tired because I never sleep well just before a really early flight, for fear of missing it. Well we got into Traverse and Robin Agnew (who owns Aunt Agatha's Mystery Bookstore in Ann Arbor along with her husband Jamie) said she'd arranged for someone to meet the place and get us to Mackinac...which being an island requires a ferry ride. We looked, waited...and couldn't find anyone. Except a nice young man about 12 holding a sign for a tiny airline.
We ignored him.
Finally it was just the three of us left and I was about to call to find out what to do when the young man asked if we were going to the Grand Hotel. I said yes, and he said that our airborne chariot awaited. He and his co-pilot (about 6 years old) took us to this toy plane, squeezed us in, and took off. For about the first 20 feet I was fine then I rememembered the main thing Gamache and I share. Not patience, kindness, tolerance or courage. It's a morbid and rabid fear of heights. And it seemed likely this boy-pilot planned to go more than 10 feet off the ground.
I immediately had a panic attack and spent the rest of the 40 minute flight with my head buried in my considerable purse. Michael was saying things like, 'Oh, wow, look at that.' He was all but giggling - not at me, but at his delight. He adores small planes and was once a rock climber.
I hate him.
One Atavan late (hard to swallow when I have no more spit left) and about 20 minutes and I can raise my nose from the belly of my purse.
And Michael was right! It was stunning. But the best was still to come. A horse-drawn carriage met us at the tiny airfield and June Carter Cash and Johnny (back now as Clydesdales) took us to the most astonishing hotel. Huge, sweeping, overlooking the great lake. No motorized vehicle on the island. gracious grounds...and a lunch buffet that includes oysters, shrim and bread pudding. After lunch we strolled the verandah and discovered a fleet of men serving ice cream, with a 'condiments' bar of caramel, chocolate, strawberry and raspberry sauce.
I won't get off this island alive, I know that now.
This trip is a gift from Robin Agnew and her family who own the Grand Hotel. When Robin invited us, last year (she invited one mystery writer every year) I said yes. it was clearly a great honor...but I did it, frankly, thinking it was a favour to a friend. I'd come and do a reading at the local library.
I had NO idea I'd fall so hard for this gracious, lovely, peaceful place...where ice cream and oysters are served to dozing guests.
This is also beautifully timed. Michael just announced he'd completed his book!!!!!
Amazing, wonderful man!!! and we wanted to celebrate!!!!
And hours before we left I finally staggered to the end of the revision for THE BRUTAL TELLING _ book 5. Another reason to celebrate.
Lucky, lucky us, to have such a friend as Robin.
Well, off to dress for dinner.
Dear god, we've found Heaven and it's called the Grand Hotel and it's on Mackinac Island - on lake Michigan. Spread the good word.
Wow, is this place wonderful!!
Michael and I got up at 3:30 for a 6am flight from Montreal to Chicago, then another flight to Traverse City. Easy flights, not crowded. I was a little tired because I never sleep well just before a really early flight, for fear of missing it. Well we got into Traverse and Robin Agnew (who owns Aunt Agatha's Mystery Bookstore in Ann Arbor along with her husband Jamie) said she'd arranged for someone to meet the place and get us to Mackinac...which being an island requires a ferry ride. We looked, waited...and couldn't find anyone. Except a nice young man about 12 holding a sign for a tiny airline.
We ignored him.
Finally it was just the three of us left and I was about to call to find out what to do when the young man asked if we were going to the Grand Hotel. I said yes, and he said that our airborne chariot awaited. He and his co-pilot (about 6 years old) took us to this toy plane, squeezed us in, and took off. For about the first 20 feet I was fine then I rememembered the main thing Gamache and I share. Not patience, kindness, tolerance or courage. It's a morbid and rabid fear of heights. And it seemed likely this boy-pilot planned to go more than 10 feet off the ground.
I immediately had a panic attack and spent the rest of the 40 minute flight with my head buried in my considerable purse. Michael was saying things like, 'Oh, wow, look at that.' He was all but giggling - not at me, but at his delight. He adores small planes and was once a rock climber.
I hate him.
One Atavan late (hard to swallow when I have no more spit left) and about 20 minutes and I can raise my nose from the belly of my purse.
And Michael was right! It was stunning. But the best was still to come. A horse-drawn carriage met us at the tiny airfield and June Carter Cash and Johnny (back now as Clydesdales) took us to the most astonishing hotel. Huge, sweeping, overlooking the great lake. No motorized vehicle on the island. gracious grounds...and a lunch buffet that includes oysters, shrim and bread pudding. After lunch we strolled the verandah and discovered a fleet of men serving ice cream, with a 'condiments' bar of caramel, chocolate, strawberry and raspberry sauce.
I won't get off this island alive, I know that now.
This trip is a gift from Robin Agnew and her family who own the Grand Hotel. When Robin invited us, last year (she invited one mystery writer every year) I said yes. it was clearly a great honor...but I did it, frankly, thinking it was a favour to a friend. I'd come and do a reading at the local library.
I had NO idea I'd fall so hard for this gracious, lovely, peaceful place...where ice cream and oysters are served to dozing guests.
This is also beautifully timed. Michael just announced he'd completed his book!!!!!
Amazing, wonderful man!!! and we wanted to celebrate!!!!
And hours before we left I finally staggered to the end of the revision for THE BRUTAL TELLING _ book 5. Another reason to celebrate.
Lucky, lucky us, to have such a friend as Robin.
Well, off to dress for dinner.
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