17th June 2025
I sleep pretty well, all things considered. I’m always restless the night before travelling. I wake to a sunny, warm and humid day. After abluting, I finish packing my checked bag, take it down to the car and lock it in the boot (trunk). I then take yesterday’s laundry, plus a couple of pieces I’d missed, and throw them in the guest laundry — thereby disposing of the spare washing powder and my last “Loonies”.
I repair to my room, where the ac is set to Titan, and waste some time.
I'm eventually fully laundered and packed at just after 1300, and, having failed to get CarPlay to work again
I set off for the airport, with my iPhone balanced on the steering column.
It’s a short drive — couldn’t get a pic, but I noticed a large Antonov transport parked near the perimeter fence. Pretty sure it had a Russian flag on the tail — anyone know the story?
I arrive at the (excellently signed) rental car return space, where I’m asked if any snags had cropped up — I explain the CarPlay weirdness, and he makes a note, I asked about the toll road I accidentally drove on day one. He explained that there will be a charge in a couple of weeks — it’ll likely be about $60 or so…
I load my luggage onto one of the carts at the depot, then push it across the road to Terminal Three.
My flight departs at 1805, more than four hours hence, so I buy a huge Americano at Starbucks, find myself a quiet corner to sit at, and do the NYT crossword and some other puzzles. There is plenty of seating, and free Wi-Fi — what’s not to like?
Sounds a little uncomfortable…
I fail to achieve “Queen Bee” by not getting MIRIN — a type of rice wine.
Look! A clingfilmatron
TM — the machine that lashes your luggage into a shapeless plastic lump — regular readers will remember I had to use one when being flown home from my bike fire in Guadalajara…
Pretty soon, it’s time to check in. I roll my cart over to the self-check bag kiosk, scan my passport etc and am rewarded with a boarding pass and a luggage label. I attach the label, then join the very short queue to drop the bag. I ask the lady check in clerk how full the flight is, “Completely sold out”. Poo — no upgrade today…
I make my way through security without issue and refill my water bottle the other side. The departure area is an Alladin’s cave for those people who consider shopping to be a leisure activity — I move swiftly along.
Deciding I need some lunch, I spot Smoke’s Burritorie…
…and order a chicken burrito bowl (a burrito without the wrap)…
…which was very good…:dukegirl
When finished, I follow the signs for Gate C33…
…where I am blown away by the facilities available. There is ample seating, all of it at tables…
Each table has a QR code, allowing you to order food delivered to you whilst you wait.
Plenty of power-points, access to food, drink, toilets etc. I was impressed by Boston Logan last year, but Toronto knocks it out of the park.
I have an aisle seat, right at the back of the aircraft, so I ignore the scrum of people queuing before their group (or any group) has been called, and continue drafting my journal...
Eventually I get boarded and settle in. The aircraft gets airborne a few minutes ahead of schedule, and we're going to get a tailwind assist from a Jetstream this evening. About an hour into the seven-hour flight, we run into some moderate turbulence. I noticed the couple in front of me holding hands across the aisle…
It calms after 45 minutes or so and the rest of the flight is smooth. As per bloody usual. I can't get. BA Wi-Fi to connect
I watch two films —
The Matrix, which I haven't seen for ages, and still stands up well as a unique concept sci-fi movie, and
Companion, a dark comedy about robot friends with benefits. I get started on
The Talented Mr Ripley, but had to give up 20 or so minutes before the end, as the aircraft was about to land. I'll catch the end on Netflix. I can recommend the Companion, though…
We are
so early, that we have to half a rotation in the stack above Heathrow, as noise abatement regs mean we can't land before 06:00.
We touch down at 06:05 and make our way, via the underground train link, to Immigration, where I choose to stand behind the only person that can't make the machine work
Baggage reclaim is really quick, and I'm wheeling my trolley through the “Nothing to declare” gate at Customs, and suddenly I'm out…
Adrian is stuck in traffic on the M25 and his ETA is about 09:20. I find myself a comfortable seat at Costa Coffee, order a large Americano and a lemonade, and make a start on
today's NYT puzzles…
Gaddafi has aged well...
Adrian arrives and finds me. I grab him a large latte to go, and we go in search of his car. This is made a more fruitful search when we search the correct level…
It's a glorious sunny day — about 23°C — and forecast to get warmer, perhaps even 30° at the weekend…
Happily, we make great time on the return journey, and Adrian drops me at my house at about noon. Thanks, Adie…
The house is immaculate — my housekeeper, Vikki, has been in and cleaned it top to bottom, aired it out, fitted fresh bedding and cut the grass — she's a treasure.
Dale, my painter, has repainted all the fences in forest green, and my brick weave, pathways, patio, and driveway have been deep-cleaned and resanded.
The place looks tip-top, until I detonate a luggage bomb in the kitchen and turn it into mayhem.
I put a load of stuff in the dishwasher, pack stuff away upstairs and generally try to keep myself busy, as I'm pretty sure I'll zonk out if I stop. As luck would have it, my window cleaners knock on the door — I'm not due until next week, would I like them to clean the windows now? Yes please — Harry has a habit of singing the song of his people to them if he's home, but I'm not due to collect him from Vikki for over an hour.
Eventually, most stuff is done. I have a grocery delivery at 19:00 (I did my shopping in Toronto Gate C33), so I get the place ready for inspection by His Majesty…
