You can read this over at Zoe's blog as well, but her waffle-powered Belgian computer has messed up all the coding and the links and all that. So you get it here, too.
I was on a plane. Again.
Fortunately, I slept through most of both movies (two movies? I guess it’s been a while since I flew trans-Atlantic. Such opulence!). Since the first was Eragon, which, truth be told, was an epic, not terribly well written, but nevertheless eminently readable book turned into a rather dreadful movie with a peculiarly muppet-like dragon, and the second was that Bridget Jones donkey with Colin Firth looking all manly and Rene Zelwegger doing her usual squinty acty thing, all references to a suitably baffled and annoying Hugh Grant incorporated by implication, I can’t say that I’m really upset.* It beats my usual experience of wanting to watch the movie and finding the sound to be completely shot, which, believe me, happens a lot more frequently to me, personally, than you might imagine.
Surprisingly enough, the airplane breakfast was quite tasty, a curiously flavourless fruit plate notwithstanding. Bewilderingly, the salt and pepper paper sachets were accompanied by a second set of plastic containers, these in the shape of miniature hockey pucks. The pepper had a slogan in Canada's Other Official Language™; something about “hockey being everything”. The salt, anachronistically, simply said “Have A Nice Day”. I was surprised by the AirCanadaOmelette, which was quite edible and came with some rather nice potatoes and a dollop of zingy but not-too-hot salsa. Believe me, it far surpassed the now-legendary Particularly Nasty Omelette™ that Mrs. Ricardipus and I had the dubious pleasure of consuming on a British West Indies Airlines flight to Antigua, circa 1991. A picture taken on that vacation is here; there is, thank goodness, no corresponding picture of the omelette in question. Bleeeeurgh is the only appriate [Author’s note – amusing typo left stet] descriptor that I can think of right now.
Bug spray on the plane, ground crabs the size of antelopes, everybody trying to sell you everything constantly, and airplanes that Air Canada saw fit to de-commission and sell to the suckers at BWIA, made up the rest of that vacation. Enough said, I believe, on that topic.
*That, my friends, may just be the longest sentence I’ve ever written.
Part II tomorrow.