I left Neuch early in the morning on Wednesday, June 29th and hopped in a taxi (didn't really feel like lugging my stuff onto the bus for one last time) where upon arrival to the train station, the driver tells me that he remembers me from a previous ride (I don't remember him, but I'm not good at remembering faces) and he mentions that I'm the last passenger that he's going to have. After a brief discussion, I realise that he means forever. He's taken another job, and I'm the last person to be using his taxi services. Wow. Didn't really know what to say, except for thank you and good luck in all of his future endevours!
Took the train to Geneva Airport (love how gentlemen here always help people with their heavy stuff without you needing to ask for their help), and because I'm so great at time management, I've got plenty of time to spare, and people watch until they call my flight to board. I initially wanted to ask the lady at check-in if I could upgrade, but she seemed pretty cranky, so I didn't bother. No big loss. I probably wouldn't have gotten one anyway.
I get on the small Austrian Airlines plane to Vienna where I am to stay overnight. It's a pretty short flight, that's quite uneventful. All I really remember about the flight was that the cabin was bloody cold and that I was sitting right besdie the air conditioner. And that my legs were cramped up from putting some awkward gift-ish carry-on luggage where my feet would have liked to be.
Upon arrival to Vienna, I go to wait for my luggage, and it doesn't come. Grrr. How frustrating. So after a little bit (eating unto my well planned out afternoon) I decide to ask the airline what's going on, to find out that my luggage had been checked through to connect with my flight the next morning to Toronto, and that I wouldn't be collecting it for the night. Too bad Ms. Cranky didn't tell me that in the morning. I guess I didn't ask her, but I didn't really say much to her at all, because, well, she was so cranky! After initally asking if I could get my luggage (I didn't have all of my overnight stuff with me - even though they say you're supposed to), and then waiting around impatiently for my stuff to come (which wasn't the airline's fault by any means - I was just impatient), I decided that I really didn't want to create a hassle for the airport workers and that I could make due with what I had in my bag. The airline guy even gave me an overnight kit (which contained all the things I already had anyway). It was still a nice gesture.
I take the bus (feeling like a pro) to the hotel (which I stayed at with my parents of the winter holidays) and instantly feel anonymous with the foreign language surrounding me. I love that feeling. A lot of people feel overwhelmed, or alone, but I like it for some reason. Sure it's a little annoying to figure out what's going on, but if you let all of it wash over you, it's fine. And quite enjoyable. I had a little conversation with a man on the bus, but after awhile, we both got a little tired and decided to just watch the world go by. We arrive to our destination, and both look up what times we need to catch the bus back to the airport the next morning and part ways wishing each other the best. I love travelling!
My carry on stuff sure is awkward and heavy, but it sure beats having to wheel around all of my luggage as well. I guess leaving it with the airport does make things easier. I was just a little concerned that it wouldn't get on the right flight the next morning, but I always worry about silly stuff like that. I go confidently straight to the hotel comforted by all of the familiar sights and sounds from the last trip there. I get to the hotel and settle in to my tiny little room, coincidently just across the hall from the room that I was in last time. I settle in, get a little obsessed with the scale they have in the bathroom (never really know how much I way, and with all of my varying eating habits it's kind of interesting to see the results) and when I'm ready, I head out for a quick walk around town. My first stop is the State Opera House, where I had seen from the outside the last time, but this time I wanted to go inside and take a tour. The tour guide was quite interesting with what he had to say, but the content wasn't as interesting as the Paris Opera House Tour. This one was cool though, because we got to go backstage, and the scene was set up for Act I of Werther by Jules Massenet. The huge tree was fabulous.
Afterwards, I shopped for a bit. The Hotel Sacher got some business from me...you gotta have some delicious souvenirs to take home! I also got a pair of pants and some socks (to keep my feet warm on the airplane the next morning - I'd planned to transfer stuff from my luggage, but obviously that wouldn't work out) from H&M and some other souvenirs from other places. I was so tired that I decided to grab a couple things from the grocery store and call it a night.
It was a quiet evening (which was fine by me) with a quick dinner and then lotsa sleep (because I knew I wouldn't be getting much for a couple more days).
The next morning I take the bus back to the airport and get some money from the "tax free shopping". Wander around a bit, head to the gate, and board the big plane to Toronto.
Again, an uneventful flight (watched Brother Bear, Spanglish and Ocean's Twelve), but the landing was quite something. Well, hitting the ground was really really smooth, but after taxiing to the gate, after everyone's already standing in aisles waiting to get off (the seatbelt light hasn't even been turned off yet - people are even more impatient than I am!) the captain comes on the loudspeaker and says that there's a problem with us connecting with the tunnel. So we need to wait a bit. A little while later (we're still waiting) and he come back on the loudspeaker and says that for some reason we're still having problems but they don't want to connect a ladder with the airplane and get us off that way and he's not sure hot long the delay's going to be. Now people start getting annoyed, and I'm feeling pretty relaxed about the whole situation. I mean, there's not like there's anything I can do about it right? He gets back on and says that airport control is telling him that he needs to move the airplane to another gate, but then moments later, he says something about how he can't move the airplane and that they're going to have to tow the airplane. We had to strap ourselves back in and put our luggage back in the appropriate places becasue we were going to be moving again. Fine fine fine. People were getting a little annoyed...and annoying. Some people were trying to make light of the situation, so that was great, and there was this one incident where an elderly lady didn't want to put her carry-on luggage back into the overhead compartment. She left it in the aisle. Obviously, a flight attendant asked her to move it, and she said something in German which made him really really mad. (Blast - I wish I understood German). He was speaking in English the whole time with her, but said to her that it wasn't appropriate that she said whatever-it-was-in-German to him. He explained the rules, she still persisted...it was quite a scene. The old lady was getting so mad, she was almost going to cry. Another collegue arrived to deal with the situation, and the two flight attendants started discussion what happened in German. I wonder why his didn't just speak German to the old lady in the first place? Whatever.
Anwyay, I think by the time we got out of the airplane, we had been on the ground for an hour.
I get through customs (chatted with the customs officr for awhile) and got my luggage pretty quickly and out of the gate to meet my Dad.
I was back in Canada...and it felt a little weird.
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