Our last day in Calgary — yesterday — was filled mostly by me repacking all of our bags so we could fly out, and then the actual travel here to Burlington, Ontario. We’re here to visit with family (today is Alex’s family reunion) before we leave for Costa Rica.
Or face the long-distance wrath of scorned relations…
We have four large pieces of luggage, including Alex’s large Air Canada bag and my backpack. In principle, I think we were supposed to be charged for taking more than one bag each (Air Canada’s policy dings you for each additional bag these days). But I was a bit of a dink yesterday. Air Canada’s so-called efficient process has you check-in at kiosks first, and then you get into a line to talk to an agent. Why? Seriously? It’s really silly to have to check-in twice — which is effectively what that process is. At any rate, I ended up bypassing it because of flying with an infant, and managed to actually check in at a clerk’s desk before the line suddenly exploded with about 100 people.
The flight out wasn’t too bad. I find they’re slowly getting better again, but they’re still only reaching back up to the point where WestJet has always been. Air Canada will never return to its former glory — domestically-speaking — but at least I’ll be able to likely fly them again without all my bitching about their service level.
The new Toronto Pearson terminal is massive. Huge. Totally forgot how big it is. Getting out was surprisingly easy, although Avis had run out of the small car we had reserved, and “upgraded” us to a Chrysler 300. This is not an upgrade in my world. This is cruel and inhuman torture. It’s a boat. I feel like I should be looking at a radar display to make sure I’m not going to run aground. It’s way more car than we need. And no, Mr. Desk Clerk, despite what your fancy chart says, a Nissan Versa actually does have a bigger trunk. Or at least it fit our bags better.
It’s humid, stick, and hazy here. But it smells just like I remember as a kid. I always loved summer in Ontario. Except for the heat and humidity, that is. Forty degrees with the humidex. Ugh.