Okay, here we are, the first full day in England...can't count when I landed, since that was a full day at the Animal Reception Centre getting Gin out! Before I left, I had a conversation with Nancy Obernier regarding the upcoming adventures on my trip. I commented that when it comes to me, something was bound to happen. I should keep my mouth shut. First of all, the trip to the airport was a cause to make an ulcer or two. Leanne Huber took me to the airport, but first we had to drop Gin off at cargo. In the last month since I was at the Calgary Airport, they have closed roads, so the 5 minute drive it should have been to cargo turned out to be 20 minutes (so much for being on time). Of course, there is rushhour traffic to contend with as well. Where is my Tums?? Okay, so we get to Air Canada Cargo, I jump out to tell them that we are there, Leanne gets Gin ready to come out, I go in...they tell me we are at the wrong place, I run out, I yell "Start the car!!", and we get to the right place. I mentioned to the person in charge how difficult it was to get to them now, and he said they were on an island. Much like Exile Island, but I didn't see any challenges they could do to get out. Probably a good thing, the fellow had a picture of a pink bra posted above his computer..maybe it was going to be part of the challenge (okay, it was in recognition of breast cancer - some people shave their heads, some wear pink bras...maybe I will get a bra next time). Gin was dropped off, required papers left, and we made it to the airport.
The flight was pretty much full, and I sat beside an interesting person from Oregon. John was his name, and he was 90 years old. He reminded me of my dad...well, only his age did. John still flies an airplane - yes, I did say FLY, (my dad will never go on a plane), he talked my ear off regarding his 5 wives (first one died of colon cancer, second one was in the military and liked her drink too much, third one died of cancer as well, fourth one he divorced, and the fifth one he just left in the hospital in Oregon with fluid removed from her lungs - she had said she better go on this particular trip). John said his family beat the Mayflower by 3 years, and he showed me pictures of his history...him being in the airforce, his children (one which is in Devon, England, and who developed that commercial with the duck for Alflac...who knew??), and his wives. He had only recently retired (at 85) from being an engineer for building big ships. Midway in the flight, he had tried to put his batteries in his hearing aid, and got one backwards, and it got stuck. I tried to help him, but he was insistent that he do it himself, since he felt if it got wrecked only he could be blamed. We asked for a sharp pointy object to remove the battery...the airline stewardess just laughed, they aren't even allowed to have nail files themselves. Finally, a lady in the next row gave him a bobby pin (watch this for the next thing to be removed by security), and he got the battery taken out and replaced correctly.
We landed, and I made sure John got to his rental car (I would think someone would help my dad if he was travelling on his own, which of course will NEVER happen, but just the same...)and then struck out on my own. I got to the rental car company (National) and in checking in, they asked me around to their computer to retrieve some information. As I was doing this, this large American lady said to me that she was going to check on the car she just rented. I noted that even though I was wearing a green Saskatchewan Roughriders shirt, I was not an employee for National Rental Car. You would have thought my red hat that said "Canada" would have tipped her off. I offered her a sign and finished getting my own car.
As I drove off of the lot, I got directions to the Animal Reception Centre to pick up Gin. Three minutes later I was back on the lot (should have made the second left). Finally, I found the centre, and then I waited for Gin. Everyone seemed to have got their dog except for me...with good reason. I was told there was something amiss with the paperwork. Now, I did the paperwork myself, read the websites several times and didn't miss a thing...so I thought. Apparently the rabies titre is not the only thing you need, but the actual vaccination certificate is needed as well. I told the powers at be that I was the vet that vaccinated her, and promised that I would get a faxed copy of the papers to them. So, 5 hours later, I had Gin taken out (she was really glad to see me) and we set out to Yorkshire, where we would be hanging out before the World Trial. Roundabouts...I have better figure them out soon. All I needed was to get on the M1 going to the north, but hit it going south (into London) and being rush hour, it took forever to get going the right way. When I finally found a place where I could turn onto the M1, I cut off another motorist, and got flipped the royal bird...left handed of course. Sorry chap.
We drove until I got tired (1 am in England, 4 pm in Canada...funny, my internal clock gets tired in the afternoon as well back home) and stopped outside of Nottingham. Would like to see Robin Hood's country, but I am bound and determined to get to Embsay (outside of Skipton, Yorkshire) today...should only take about 2 hours if I travel the right way.
1 year ago