Dav’s Column - January 7, 2010

Author: dav  |  Category: Uncategorized

There is something about traveling during the holidays that launches a pure panic in me. Any other time of the year the stress threshold of flying is manageable, but get close to Christmas and all of a sudden walking into the airport feels like waltzing into the eye of a storm. I have been in a self inflicted tailspin all day, trying to cram everything I said I was going to do over the last three months into just a few hours and it turns out I wasn’t the only one. Driving to the airport I had to count to ten over and over again,  reminding myself to breathe, as I silently but deafeningly repeated “It really doesn’t matter that I forgot my winter boots, cell phone charger and the present for my secret Santa because I am running late, will probably miss my plane and have to turn around and head back home anyway. I can grab the stuff I forgot just as soon as I rebook my flight. ” At which point all my previous and incredibly scarring experiences of rebooking flights to Newfoundland after Christmas snowstorms came flooding back as did the realization that changing my flight would be as difficult as skating up Signal Hill in the rain. We may be known as the nicest people in the world but Newfoundlanders flying home for Christmas thinking they might be stranded is another story entirely. Not for love nor money would a Newfoundlander ever give up their spot on a flight home, sure the mother from “Home Alone” might be begging for someone to give them her seat so she could get home to her stranded eight year old son about to be set upon by robbers. She could offer her house, her car, her jewellery but I guarantee you she wouldn’t have any takers. So with a very real terror, we drove a lot faster and screamed up to the gate, where miraculously there was no one in front of me in line. Not only that, the bags I thought were overweight were under, I got an isle seat on a full plane, and because my flight was delayed an hour I even had time to go to Swiss Chalet ( talk about a Christmas memory).  If I didn’t believe in Santa Claus before, I do now, so, so happy to be home.

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