Never Fly Through Toronto

I enjoyed my last night in my giant bed and down comforter, and was delighted to be woken up by rays of sunshine peeking through the curtains. These past four days have been so very sunny! The hotel is very pleasant, and I enjoyed my cappuccinos and croissants and fruit salad in the lobby. I decided to walk in the fresh air, at least for a bit, and when I could no longer tolerate the cold wind, I hailed a cab, the driver of which was horribly disappointed that I did not ask to go to the airport. I was wheeling my suitcase over the cobblestones and I imagine I looked as if I was a potentially better fare.

Tara called while I was walking and I suggested we meet at the Art Museum. She was not there when I arrived, and after waiting longer than I ought, I decided to visit the 'Terracotta Warrior' exhibit. Tara arrived later and did not want to see the exhibit, so I met her briefly at her favourite cafe (Myriade) on Mackay near her residence. Our discussion was not satisfying, but it was good to see her for a few minutes.

I convinced her to walk me to the 747 bus, where we had little time to say goodbye. I was disappointed that she did not want to accompany me to the airport, there never seems to be enough quality time for us.

Toronto airport is a nightmare. The immigration holding area is packed to the gills with passengers. We are all reassured that we will make it to our flight, but when we get through the line and then through security, my flight is long gone, and I am lucky to get on the last plane to Baltimore late in the evening. I am also relieved to encounter free internet and am able to skype my parents and talk to Eric and Maya and catch up on my reading (I am reading the same book on my iphone and my kindle and that somehow seems so remarkable).