Washing Day

   Home again , Home again, Jiggiddy Jog. I kept holding my breath waiting for something foolish to happen on our trip home - but nothing did. Planes were all in working order, connections made, baggage arrived in one piece - it had me jittery everytime I anticipated something going wrong. But we're home now - safe and sound and almost everything is here. We still await the delivery of our beautiful glass goblets from Venice.
   Stopped long enough on the drive home to get a few basics- milk, bread, easter eggs - and then it was dump everything in the front hall and send the kids to bed. We barely had the strength to let the easter rabbit do his thing before collapsing ourselves. Ah sleep - until our bodies told us it was way later than it was. The one benefit of jet lag is you find yourself awake early and easily which will help when the kids go back to school. And I can enjoy the quiet of an early morning - until that is everyone else decides to join me. Oh well. It'll wear off soon enough.
    The trip has been wonderful. We saw things, ate things and bought things we would never at home and I know from the kid's conversations with their cousins yesterday that a lot sunk in. It's the sort of trip you remember for a lifetime. Well worth the hideous dent in my bank account, and the display of items covered the dining room table when I unpacked it all. We have happily given some away to family and tomorrow the kids will haul their gifts to school for their friends. But the rest will have to find room on our shelves. Thankfully I had removed an old shelf unit in the dining room in anticipation of building a newer one - guess I'll need to add proper display cabinets to it now. After all - Murano glass deserves a well lit case.
    Now it's all about the laundry. I have loads from my mother, and our travel clothes, and bed linens and towels from the girl who stayed here nights to keep the animals company, and there was still stuff from before the trip and it spring so I have all the clothes that have spent the winter sitting in boxes in the attic to refresh. I predict a session lasting over two days and approx. 16 loads. At least while we were gone the in-laws dropped by and did a little housecleaning for us. My kitchen is great, and the front and side yards all raked. Now to get to the dust and debris everywhere else.  Perhaps I need to get going - after all it's already past 7 am - the day is a wasting!

Abundance

After all the walking and so many stairs I have climbed I figure I can get away with eating Fois Gras and Chateaubriand and Souffle and of course those amazing patissiere. Please don't disillusion me.  The food has been amazing! Today we found a little restaurant called Le Souffle complete with a bevy of waiters and a delightful collection of patrons.
   The Musee D'Orsay is Fabulous! I saw Impressionist pieces I've studied for years and some I never knew. My favourites remain Van Gogh, Vuillard and Pissarro. I saw a Lautrec and realized for the first time how large his paintings are. And a beautiful Degas sculpture of the little dancer. But it was as I made it down to the end of the building that my eyes fell upon something to make my heart jump. A scale model of the Paris Opera house complete with a cut away of the stage showing both flys and traps. Fabulous for this theatre techie! The last exhibit I saw was along the upper floor. Exquisite Art Nouveau furnishings. Again the scale is overwhelming since I have only ever seen these in books.
   The Louvre is of course the Louvre. We like almost everyone else went immediately to the Mona Lisa. My daughter took her time gazing on the lady.  Along the way to her I saw Wing Victory and the Virgin of the Rocks. My heart is singing. But then we sought out the ancients and there we found the Code of Hammarubi and a lion from the Babylon Gate. My husband is now also happy.  So when we found more sculptures carved from the rare purple marble - Arthur's face lit up and for the four of us our visit is a success.
  
  Then there are the monuments we visited. First the Arc de Triomphe. My cousin doesn't really explain too much, just indicates a doorway and before I can grasp what is happening we are climbing to the top. The crowd is thick so I can't retreat, neither can Arthur and he is not great when climbing alot of stairs. We all make it to the top - 287 steps- and then up to the top where my husband immediately blanches. He hates heights especially open air platforms. The view is terrific but he is green. We take some pictures and then descend. Strangely we can take an elevator down!
   Now it's the Eiffel Tower! As we arrive we can see the long snake of a line up and Arthur starts to worry. But this time the special passes we have really are special passes and we only have to show up at the gate by 8pm to go up the tower. Great - that gives us a few minutes to see if we can find a geocache. Which would have worked if I could have gatten my phone to actually give us a longitude and latitude but that app is doing stupid things. We only know there is one by the Wall of Peace- a nice stroll for twenty minutes and a quick jog in 10 minutes leaving us 15minutes to find the cache. We had seven people looking and we didn't succeed. Oh well. If you're ever there - look for a small rock that could hold a few coins.
  Then it was time. The one thing my kids have been looking forward to for months was finally happening. Miriam is beside herself with anticipation. The tickets may have helped us jump the line to enter but there were still all those people who were also travelling to the very top. So while my husband remained on the second level with our back packs, we spent an hour lining up for the elevator. The ride up was exciting but when we got to the top Arthur couldn't cope so down he and I came, leaving Miriam with the cousins to enjoy the view and take a ton of pictures. But when we picked up my husband on the second level and were looking for the way back to ground level, Arthur accidentally looked through a glass floor and the sight made him scream. Staff appeared out of the blue and we were whisked onto an elevator immediately. Once back on the ground, Arthur is much happier.
   To celebrate I buy two hideous Eiffel Tower replicas from a couple of illegal vendors. It's amusing to watch them. They mill about trying to catch tourists as they exit until the local police show up then there's a flurry as they flee down side lanes. A few minutes pass and they return. The whole area now feels like going to the fair on a summer evening. The air is fresh with a breeze, the lights are twinkling, groups chatter and kids cry and everyone seems relaxed.  Eventually the others return to terra firma and join us. Miriam's face is glowing from the experience.
   Dinner is al freco. We got our food from a Paris version of a chip wagon - it served crepes and fries! And we took our meal down to the river to eat while we watched the boats go by. We are supposed to now take a cruise along the Seine but by the time we got to the right location we have missed the last boat.  Tired and a little disappointed at least we now know exactly where we need to come tomorrow to catch the boat and bonus - there's a great restaurant nearby which we can come to as we await twilight. Afterall you must see Paris by night.
   So all that's left to describe is our long awaited boat trip down the Seine at night. We see the buildings lit up. We pass under nine bridges and each one is different (two of them seem the repository for hundreds of combination locks) and all along the banks are people sitting drinking, talking, kissing, dancing. It is everything I thought it would be and it has been well worth waiting for.

The Tour Eiffel at night.

So tonight is our last night. You might think we would be cramming in those last few memories but instead I am packing our bags. We arrived with four and travel home with five! We have shopped like there was no tomorrow, which in a sense there isn't, for we will, in all likelihood, not be back again. I have loved having for one glorious trip the feeling of abundance. If we wanted to eat it -we did, if we wanted to do it or see it -we did. And if we fell in love regardless of whether it was a Goblet of Murano Glass or a crisp white Parisienne blouse - we bought it. This has been a trip of a lifetime for us. Now we are ready to come home!

La Vie Parisienne

                                                         Planes, trains and automobiles
We  have been here for three days now and they have been filled with so much that this is my first opportunity to write anything. Our airplane trip was not without it's adventure. We arrived with lots of time, we got our boarding passes easily and then happiky sought a little food before boarding. It wasn't until I went to pull the pass out that I discovered that the agent had made a mistake and my husband was boarding twice but I wasn't at all. ARGH. However it did get sorted and we did board and we arrived in Paris, found our bags and our pre-arranged ride.
    The apartment we rented is just off a street that I would have described at a major one but my cousin who grew up describes as a minor one. When she showed me a major street I had to agree. Apparently having traffic and stores doesn't warrent major status - for that you need six or more lanes and a huge roundabout and perhaps a few parkettes in the middle. Regardless, to get to the apartment you enter a red door between two extremely laden shops whos wares overflow out onto the street, and through a narrow passage into a courtyard, Our place is a glass ground level oasis of quiet. Four levels, the lowest has a bedroom, the ground floor the kitchen, living area and a three piece bath, the next up another bed and bath and finally a loft. The children claimed the loft and have made their fortress there. No adults allowed - or at least no adult comments about their housekeeping decisions! It is light and airy and perfect for the whole crowd.
   We were the first to arrive , then my cousins from germany arrived but quickly left again to go collect the last member of our group from the train station. It was almost 10:30 Saturday evening before we had everyone together gathered around the table happily eating camembert and bread and drinking Champagne. What a great way to start the vacation here.
                                                     Versailles and the "son" king   
   Our first day here and immediately we are leaving again. But only as far as Versailles which is outside Paris. We take the Metropolitan for the first time and discover that the great pass tickets we purchased online don'y all work and can easily hiccup as we attempt to go through automated turnstiles. Of course it's Arthur who has the difficulty first and this combined with his frustration and mounting fear means the day could well be a disaster. But he pulls himself together and we eventually arrive to discover that everyone else chose today to visit too. The line up to enter is huge. Not a problem say my cousin we have special passes that allow us to jump the line - except that they don't. This is now now longer the case and we are now looking at a line up the is snaking down the entire first courtyard (which is the size of a city block), back up and then down again and each line appears to be moving but not super quickly. There is no way Arthur can make it through that. we are now stuck. Our first place to see and I can't see us getting in. Then Angela ( who truly deserves her name) points out that if there is a separate entrance for handicapped people - perhaps we can use that for Arthur because it is his autism that is the problem. It works and they allow all of us to enter with him.  I have never asked for more than patience when helping my son but for the first time we have a small advantage as a result.
   Of course all those people are also in the palace and it is a series of jumps from one clear space to another for my son. But he discovers that Lous XIV did manage to acquire some of the amazing purple marble and he spends his time counting purple marble busts and urns. The Hall of Mirrors is wonderful. The giftshop is a must but it is in the garden we find the real gem. A fountain with moving parts puts on a beautiful display to music and both the kids are delighted. Actually all of us are, and we watch the show twice. Miriam doesn't want to leave and walks backwards for as long as she can to watch it a third time. By the time we are leaving it is now 7pm and we have a long trip back so we stop and eat at a lovely outdoor cafe and enjoy sitting down as much as we enjoy the food. And for my daughter who loves escargot - she is allowed a plate of 12 all to herself- this is heaven.
                                                       Herding cats
Moving seven people through anywhere can be both easy and difficult. It takes them longer to agree on where they are going, longer for everyone to be ready, and longer to even just walk from a to b. But when you add souvenir shops, confusing streets (even for the native born) and a couple of changes to your plans - it can be a recipe for frustration. Regardless we saw Sacre Coeur, MontMartre, the Comedie Francois, the left bank of the Seine and Notre Dame. We missed Saint Madelaine and an amazing local food market which had my cousin, who is guiding us through her home city, near tears in disappointment.  But we walked everywhere and by the time we got home everyone is exhausted and happy to shed shoes and socks.  That evening we had dinner at the apartment and collapsed on the sofa to admire all our purchases today. Miriam and Arthur bought dragons and Miriam shopped for souvenirs for her friends while Garland found a hat for his father. And I searched through all the artists stands for a small pirce for my mother. I am happy to report i found something I hope she likes -but as I know my friends are giving her a copy of this blog - i will say no more now.

   Today we are going to split up a little. during the morning and afternoon those of us who want to will go looking at some lovely thing while the children stay home and get their blogging done and relax a bit. But this evening we all going to the Arc de Triomphe, the Tour Eiffel and a trip along the Seine at night to adnire the view. The kids are excited. And so am I.
 

A Comedy of Sorts.

We have moved in Venice from the nice but slightly congested Hotel Concordia to an apartment for our last night in Venice. Oh how I wish now I had booked this place for us for the entire visit. From a small room crammed with four twin beds and almost nowhere to stand, let alone sit (except on beds) to a two bedroom apartment overlooking the canal and the old Doges palace. The rooms are each larger than the one we shared but it's the lovely sitting/dining room and kitchen, two separate baths and abundant storage that has us in bliss. The kids are so happy that we leave them to enjoy being in an apartment and just my husband and myself go exploring. We tour the Rialto bridge area, at first looking for a bank machine, and then afterwards we find some very appealing shops. Thus begins my tale of Three Shopkeepers of Venezia.

Shop number one: A jewellery store on the steps of the Rialto bridge. I had stopped to take a picture of the crazy market below us and when I looked up my husband had disappeared into a shop filled with lovely gold jewellery. My heart skipped – had he found something for me he liked? Not quite – he had; however, found a pair of signet rings, one which resembled a beloved ring of his grandfather's. When I got to his side he was being bombarded by two salesmen. One trying to persuade him the oval was the one for him and the other trying to help the sale past any objections my husband put forth. But my husband was concerned not to buy the ring but rather make sure of the engraver's quality – a detail we just couldn't get sorted with these gentlemen. They tried hard “We will walk with you to the engraver's factory. You may choose exactly how you would like it.” We escaped eventually but they were persistant.

Shop number two: My husband loves chess. We own scores of chess books, he plays every week and has been president of the local area chess club and has had the opportunity to play with and befriend a few grand masters. So when he spied a shop filled with beautiful chess pieces he wanted to see them. First it is confusing as to how to enter. Then when we find the door, it has to be unlocked to allow us in. The saleswoman is busy with a customer – fine we look about and a set catches my husband's eye. He kneels down to see it and he picks one piece up to weigh it in his hand. The weight of a piece is important. He does this two more times when the saleswoman speaks to him in an angry tone – “Can you not read? - you think you can touch everything.” He replied he was trying the weights and she told him he should have asked. If perhaps she had not spoken in such an angry tone he would have apologized and remained to purchase one of those sets – a sale of several hundred or more Euros – but her rudeness cost her and we left quickly and with more words said as we fumbled trying to open the very closed door of this shop.

Shop number three: By now my husband is feeling dejected and wants to stop looking around. Pushy or rude salespeople disturb him and with the crowds and the overwhelming abundance of merchandise and merchants he's just about had enough. So we start over the bridge one last time and as we climb up I spy a little tiny doorway into a shop NOT filled with Murano/chinese knockoff glass. Instead it is filled with books – but not printed but rather blank. For a writer and artist this is nirvana. Once inside I am in heaven. In a space not more than 10 feet by 7 feet are shelves reaching up 12 feet high filled with everything a writer could desire. My eyes and heart fell upon leather bound rough cut notebooks with paper, the saleswoman informed me, came from Milan and were made upstairs by her employer. In the corner in is a skinny little ladder and a hole through which I can see a second level. A two story building on a bridge. I'm enthralled. And this saleswoman is smiling but not pushy. She too has another customer but still greets us warmly and then allows us to peruse the merchandise. I happily pick out a notebook for myself and continue looking around – then a painting catches my eye and by now her employer has descended the ladder to help with the busy shop. When we are finished I have purchased a book, a painting and a small glass beaded bookmark and spent about $200 cdn. The ladies are sweet and wrap each purchase as if it were a precious jewel and then the owner dives into a corner and reappears with three small engravings of famous venetian buildings. “A gift” she says “ Thank you for coming to our shop.” Thank you. Even though the purchase was for me and not him, my husband is now looking far more relaxed and happy. These two ladies have restored his good nature. Gracie Gracie.

A merchant in Venice

The market by the Rialto Bridge.

We are now in Venice and it is so different from Rome. In Rome it was wide open vista and avenues and of course in Venice every square inch is precious. Every doorway is filled with vendors of cheap glass, expensive glass, tourist trap masks, exquisite linens, top name fashions like Hermes and Vitton and street carts with knock off scarves and straw hats. If Rome was the city we took tours, then Venice is the city we shopped. Today we travelled to the Murano Glass factory and watched a master Glass Blower called Giuliano Ballarin at his craft. Then we toured the showrroms and while I was managing not to fall in love my dear husband succumbed. Turns out this is the end of season for the factory's designs, Easter marks the 'new' year, which means deals could be had. So with negotiations and the children wanting their own pieces,  I ended up getting four pieces of Murano glass with free shipping home for a small fortune. Ah well - it's not very often my husband turns to me with that look - the one my mother had every time she fell for a piece of glass. So I couldn't resist and at least he chose something I liked too. But wow! 

Our last full day in Rome was dedicated to the church. We strolled up to the north side of the Vatican in order to tour the museums and the Sistine Chapel and St Peter's Basilica. I thought that I would be amazed and in love in the museums, but I was merely enjoying them. The Rapheal Rooms started to catch at my heart but it was when we entered the Sistine Chapel, with the hush that they insist upon - a room not filled with hundreds of chattering tourists but hundreds of quiet people, that it hit me. There above me was art I had studied over and over during many art history lessons and now it was there - real. And it was far greater than I imagined it would be. one piece a sybyl wearing her robes of yellow seemed to come forward off the fresco and I was amazed. Michelangelo's skill is just as all those people before me have recognized as genius. I was definately moved in this chapel. And when we moved into St Peter's the light shining through the transom above the naves of chapels on the high alter gave the reverence and awe inspiring views I had heard so much about. My son Arthur was visibly moved to tears. We stopped to pray and I sent thanks for this blessed place and opportunity.
    We were up early on Wednesday to catch the train to Venice. The Termini is a huge place with hundreds coming and going. We had a little confusion about our seating but ultimately we settled and while I wrote in my journal, Miriam drew and Arthur played Mindcraft and Garland studied chess moves or the newspaper. A lovely four hours travelling through Firenze, Padua and finally across the water to this lovely city. The evening ended with a gracious meal over looking St mark's square where street vendors flew bright blue lights high in the sky and my children madly rushed down to find them. The wind was up and the night had fallen but eventually the illegal vendors reappeared and the kids gleefully begged me to buy the flying toys.
A magical end to a lovely day.
But wow - can the Venitians sell you stuff. Every one of them is a great salesman. You must stay on your toes and be a poker face and prepare to walk away in order to get a deal. William Shakespeare had it right about these guys.

Back in Time

Bright and early Monday morning - and we are up and dressed and eating our breakfasts in a wonderful salon. These rooms are large and gracious. Truly how the better half lived many many years ago. Thanks to the meticulous work of film makers, I can actually picture the crowded room filled with supplicants and busy courtiers all attending on the various persons of authority or influence.

    The experience is so not North American and for me a return to my childhood. When I was eleven we took a trip to meet all my father's family. We travelled all over, Berlin, Dusseldorf, Weisbaden, Austria, Lichtenstein and my family's home town of Ludenscheid. Being here in Rome alot of those experiences return to me. The amazing proportions of buildings - huge rooms, tiny streets, beautiful and old everywhere regardless of whether or not it's a souvenir shop or an haute couture salon. The salepeoples are impecably dressed, the stores elegant in their displays. Even a street vendor trys to display their wares in as attractive a way as they can. And the food. Breakfasts are served with meat and cheese, hard boiled eggs and various pastries and melba toast. Lunch is filling but quick. And a good restaurant won't open until 8pm for dinner. It's a gracious end to the day. So today I begin to feel a little European again.

   Today we separate into two pairs. Miriam and her father tour around the streets and visit the Sant Angelo before hailing a taxi to take them to Gladiator School. Run by the historical society, my daughter was taught 5 different ways to attack and defend herself with  short sword. She was dressed in a tunic and helmet and at the end won the respect of her instructor for listening and doing better than the other children. So here I am bragging about my kid's progress at "school". LOL

The statue of Marcus Auruleius, my favorite Roman.

    Arthur and I went back to ancient Rome. This time our tour was on a segway, those personal transport devices. they are great. Because our tour was on a quiet monday morning we were the only two and we had a blast. The guide tailored her talk to what we were interested in and what we'd already seen. And again as we travelled along the streets we started to belong a little to life in Rome. We went along streets filled not with hundreds of tourists but instead school children and old grandmothers. We passed along  the cobble-stoned narrow lanes and the sun was strong and the breeze perfect. And I learned an essential survival trick - to stop cars you wave madly and they halt - letting you cross the streets but you look crazy doing it - waving frantically and yelling gracie gracie.  This time I saw some of the forum from a new angle and after studying my souvenir book from the day before, this time I actually found myself oriented. Now I could imagine Marcus Auruleius and Sulla walking along the Via Sacra discussing whether Sulla should raid the temple of Saturn and the treasury beneath in order to pay for the wheat they had to import to feed the citizens of Rome. And it was good.

    The afternoon saw the four of us reunited and we enjoyed a half hour 3D movie depicting the history of Rome from Romulous and Remus being left in the forest with wolves, through the assisignation of Julius Ceasar by Brutus et al, and on to Nero burning the city,the death of Saint Peter and then onwards to Mussolini creating the world's smallest independant state the Vatican. History 101 for kids. I didn't care – because a little of it stuck in my children's brains.
That evening we strolled along a wide street , the guys one way eating a gelato, and us girls doing a little shopping in some nice stores before meeting up again for a pleasant dinner at a quiet restaurant. The waiter was wonderful and helpful and we enjoyed ourselves eating veal and lava cake and drinking chianti. Walking home Miriam learned a valuable lesson. Wearing shoes because they look good means you might end up with sore feet. And if you're sweet enough and cute you might persuade a man to rescue you - namely her father who piggy-backed her all the way back to the hotel.
Thank goodness we can sleep in tomorrow – we need it after all of today's excitement.

Via Appia

View from the Palatine

Okay - we here. The hotel is lovely - mere steps from St Peter's and it's Sunday. What a wonderful place to be. Okay last night's meal made up for the lack of the cruise. The restaurant in the hotel stayed open to serve us and we sat under lovely trees in a courtyard at the Hotel Columbus - former home of Pope Julian II. Every protestant bone in my body is cheering - despite the fact that our rooms are on the fourth floor where the servants would have slept. Who cares - it's a papl palace. And the meal - I ate beef tartar for an appetizer ( a treat my mother introduced me too in Berlin when I was eleven.), and pidgeon for my main course, and finished with a lovely creme brulee ( again for my mother.) My son is eating as many different types of pizza in order to tell his friends about it - but I seem to be eating for my parents. And I know my father would have approved of this place. It had all those elements he loved in a restaurant. Great food, good wine, excellent service. I went to bed exhausted and happy.

The next morning it was very hard to get up to do anything, We dragged ourselves downstairs to eat breakfast and my husband and daughter went for an exploratory walk afterwards. Arthur and I| figured out the internet, and he blogged while I had another nap.

Via Sacra

Then in the afternoon we went for a tour. A three hour tour of Ancient Rome - the Colosseum, the Palatine and the Roman Forum. It was great but like many tours there would be things you weren't interested in. However for the most part I was thrilled to walk on the Via Appia and the Via Sacria on the same stones Marcus Aureluis and Ceasar walked. Thanks to Colleen Mccullough's books about Rome I could picture the ancient senators sacking the Temple of Saturn to get the money to buy wheat. It was wonderful. Mirian was delighted to meet her special animal totem. As she squatted posing as her favorite alter ego Geicho Girl on a discarded ruin in the vicinty of several temples ( the Vestial Virgins being one) a real little geicho ran out and up the wall behind her. far more real for her then some statues and a story about Romulus and Remus. But I was delighted to see she found the detailed architectual ruins worth photographing.

We left by taxi and came back to Vatican City where our hotel is. Garland and \miriam knew where to find a wonderful gelato shop and we were all looking forward to having some. We finished by enjoying pizza but had to rush as the restaurant must close by 8pm - Pope's orders. We strolled outside the arches and picked a trattoria for desserts and then strolled home enjoying the view. Right outside our hotel is set up a depiction of the stations of the cross. I took photos of each one.
Now the children have been put to bed, and my internet time will soon run out. So I'll post this. If you're interested in the children;s blogs - visit Dragon-Journal.blogspot.com and Dr-Epic.blogspot.com on this same blogger.

No More Sleeps - Or 24 hours Awake!

In twenty four hours we will be in Europe. I can't wait - it feels like Christmas eve today. The dining room table is strewn with clothing and there are packages filled with travel sized sundries like stocking stuffers all over the living room. This is a trip I've been waiting to do for years. First we go to Rome, then Venice and finally Paris.  It's sort of my own version of Eat Pray Love. Rome is about inhaling the history. We are booked on several tours. I have read a lot about Ancient Rome and I can't wait to walk the streets Marcus Aurelius and Sulla walked.  Venice is for indulgence - food, visions, senses. To eat when and where, to stop and watch, to admire and bask in sunshine and beauty. And then there's Paris - we're meeting up with my cousin and wandering around the city of love.

Then it was time to go. We were packed and on our way. No problems chceking in, no problems going through security. Boarded easily and then the plane left the gate. Then the plane stopped. Then 2 1/2 hours later they informed us that the mechanics could not repair this plane's malfunctioning engine and so back we went. But and this is the kicker - we who has travelled a mere 50 meters now had to go through customs to declare any duty free items and relinquish them. Arthur was now near having a meltdown and by the time we exited the plane someone had alerted the flight attendants - a nice lady decided it would be best if she moved us through the crowd quickly and we were first through and first to get to the Timmies to order something to eat and thus first to board the replacement plane which arrived with a new crew and then had to be prepped etc. So our flight left 7 hours late. Of course that meant new connections and unfortunately for us that meant that we wouldn't arrive until after 9pm thus missing our wonderful dinner cruise down the Tiber looking at the sights and enjoying a lovely meal. We were tired and cranky and I was very disappointed about the lost cruise ( not to mention that it had been prepaid!)  And for all our grief - Air Canada offered us compensation - $50 off the next Air Canada flight we book! Hardly the compensation I am looking for.

In the end it took over 24 hours to travel. My darling husband has a new theory. If you travel anywhere past the neighbouring province - it takes 24 hours. Shanghai - 24 hrs, Newfoundland - 24 hrs, Rome 24 hours.  I'm beginning to believe him.