What a weekend! Our boy Hamilton got the win, made even sweeter by edging out that damned Ferrari and Fernando Alonso (sorry MJ), and a crazy qualifying where Hamilton literally drove his car until it ran out of gas on the last lap and got pole by tenths of a second.
I would love to go into greater detail about the races, but I'm wrecked from the travel. You see, that little nosebleed on the plane on our way out to Montreal got me logged into the airline's system, and suddenly I have a hold on travelling like some kind of patient zero for the apocalypse virus. Conveniently, nobody from the airline felt like mentioning the "health hold" that was put on me at any time before showing up at customs for our 8am flight back to the states, so imagine my irritation having not only checked in, passed security, and gone through customs, only to be kept from boarding the flight at the gate five minutes before the flight.
Rather than abandon me since he was clear to fly (though it would have done little good since his car and keys were out of reach at my place, and my car was at the airport), Rybot and I had a travel adventure for the day. The next direct flight back to L.A. was nine hours later, but there was a flight from Montreal to Toronto in about half the wait time, and then connecting to L.A. with an earlier arrival, and we decided that being in motion was better than just sitting an waiting. Fortunately, my bitching about the situation and their lack of contact letting me know there was one, landed us in the VIP lounge so we could be comfortable and graze their complimentary buffet.
Of course, it was not all to go smoothly. The flight from Montreal to Toronto was delayed because there was a group of special needs passengers from the Netherlands who had to have the inbound plane specially retrofitted for their cages or something, so putting it back together for regular folks held the departure up. How much? Enough so that the 50 plus passengers who were connecting through Toronto to other U.S. bound flights needed to get their luggage and pass through customs to get to their new gates. Ever try to depart a plane, cross a terminal, pick up your luggage, pass through customs, and get to a gate in 40 minutes? I was expecting another blood-faced explosion from the stress.
By the will of a pantheon of gods, the good karma of the McLaren team's win, and an OJ Simpson style scramble (for Hertz, not a double murder). Rybot and I made it with moments to spare and get on the flight out of Toronto. Nineteen hours since we began our trip, we made it back home...and as I said, I'm done for this day.
I would love to go into greater detail about the races, but I'm wrecked from the travel. You see, that little nosebleed on the plane on our way out to Montreal got me logged into the airline's system, and suddenly I have a hold on travelling like some kind of patient zero for the apocalypse virus. Conveniently, nobody from the airline felt like mentioning the "health hold" that was put on me at any time before showing up at customs for our 8am flight back to the states, so imagine my irritation having not only checked in, passed security, and gone through customs, only to be kept from boarding the flight at the gate five minutes before the flight.
Rather than abandon me since he was clear to fly (though it would have done little good since his car and keys were out of reach at my place, and my car was at the airport), Rybot and I had a travel adventure for the day. The next direct flight back to L.A. was nine hours later, but there was a flight from Montreal to Toronto in about half the wait time, and then connecting to L.A. with an earlier arrival, and we decided that being in motion was better than just sitting an waiting. Fortunately, my bitching about the situation and their lack of contact letting me know there was one, landed us in the VIP lounge so we could be comfortable and graze their complimentary buffet.
Of course, it was not all to go smoothly. The flight from Montreal to Toronto was delayed because there was a group of special needs passengers from the Netherlands who had to have the inbound plane specially retrofitted for their cages or something, so putting it back together for regular folks held the departure up. How much? Enough so that the 50 plus passengers who were connecting through Toronto to other U.S. bound flights needed to get their luggage and pass through customs to get to their new gates. Ever try to depart a plane, cross a terminal, pick up your luggage, pass through customs, and get to a gate in 40 minutes? I was expecting another blood-faced explosion from the stress.
By the will of a pantheon of gods, the good karma of the McLaren team's win, and an OJ Simpson style scramble (for Hertz, not a double murder). Rybot and I made it with moments to spare and get on the flight out of Toronto. Nineteen hours since we began our trip, we made it back home...and as I said, I'm done for this day.
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