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Posts Tagged ‘air canada’

I wrote here extensively earlier this year when I was deeply disappointed in our national airline for failing to meet what i thought was the simple task of getting my luggage from the point of departure to the point of destination.  I received a heartfelt apology from the airline and of course some minor compensation was offered.  To be honest, I didn’t think I would ever use a discount because I hadn’t planned to travel but sometimes life surprises.

Indeed my recent trip to Hollywood was an unexpected bonus and the apology discount saved me a little bit.  Apart from the activities I needed to work on in Hollywood, I actually looked forward to experiencing a five hour flight.  I must say that the seats are far more comfortable on the wide body plane.  My long legs usually touch the chair in front of me and make for quite an uncomfortable and stiff ride.  I had a little more leg room.  Peoplke were helpful and friendly.  I was not entirely happy however.  It isn’t that I am picky.  I have been flying since 1949.  My first really conscious flight was in 1961 and my longest in 1966.  I am not a frequent flyer but longevity has given me some entitlement to speak on the subject of comfort flying.

I miss the food.  As a diabetic, I need to eat when I take insulin.  I don’t want to eat but the needs of my body overtake the needs of my circumstance and my desires.  I can eat all I want before beoarding but if my inner workings say I need food then please present me with meal options.  What happened to the days when you could get a hot meal.  I am not a sandwich eater, nor am I a lover of the meat wrap.  Nuts are good protein but hardly filling and chips are a no-no.  I smelled hot food on the plane and hunger for something substantial tore at my insides but there was nothing.

My latest complaint…we all pay for food.  Let one of the options be a hot meal for those who need it.  A five hour flight goes well beyond my time even if I stuff myself with a hearty breakfast but in this day and age, much preboarding time is spent taking off shoes and walking through metal detectors to make sure that there are no concealed weapons on your person.

I wonder if they consider a hot meal a weapon.  Next time I will get to the airport another hour earlier in order to eat and buy food. Or, I will save and save so that i can afford that delightfully expensive upgrade which gives a perfect bathroom, a seat that looks like the pod in a spaceship and leg room to not only stretch out but also elevate aching legs, and superservice which will include hot food.

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As one would expect, the arrival of the luggage was frought with anxiety and disappointment. I received the long awaited call early on Friday. ‘Your luggage has arrived in Kingston.’  What sweeter words could there be?  I didn’t even want to think about the journey the suitcase had undertaken. The caller gave me a range from today or  tomorrow. I stated unequivocally, tonight please.
Since I had already discovered that the office closes early, I was waiting until the 5 o’clock hour before allowing anxiety to set in.  If the luggage didn’t arrive, there would be no one to call. As the evening wore on, hope faded along with the setting sun. No one does business after dark and driving around the Island with luggage from abroad seemed to be almost asking to be hijacked. By nine, all hope had gone and I resigned myself to a surety on Saturday. Not long after the release of my last sigh, the phone rang. In a house with two women having the same first initial and last name, the call taken by the youngster of the house was precariously handed to the elder. She was probably the best person to answer anyway. The driver was lost. Could he get directions?
We stood at the metal grill, which protects most homes on the island from predators, and waited for the van to arrive. Indeed, he was not long. The young man stood in the pouring rain and unloaded quite a few suitcases in the dark, using a simple flashlight to search for the missing case among many others. Our own special markers helped him to find it quickly.
He was clearly wet and hungry.  He admitted to having many miles to go before he would get his own rest, but we were grateful for his efficiency and good manners.
This is the end of my saga. A happy ending to be sure. Others may not have such luck but in everything I found the manners to be respectful and outstanding, something I miss in the easy going cultural climate of the north.

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