When our connecting flight from Bonaire to Toronto was cancelled on Sunday and we found ourselves stuck in Newark, I felt very unlucky. In fact, I experienced quite a lot of self pity, which at the time was unnecessary since we were immediately rescheduled and (due to a booking mixup) ended up at a pretty luxurious Marriott hotel for the evening. A decent meal and good bottle of wine was hardly grounds for “poor me” feelings, but I harboured them with unyielding emotion well into the following day, which we spent working out and shopping; again, hardly reason for feelings of despair. But when the text came Monday evening that the second flight was cancelled again, I moved quickly into panic mode and fear took over; fear of missing work; fear of the worry I’d be causing my Mom; fear which morphed into dread; fear which jump started the exploration of other possible ways to get home. At this point I was ready to drive home. These moments of desperation all led to an interesting series of events (that some might call fate, God’s will or Karma, but which I call luck) that eventually got us home.
Today I am strangely overwhelmed with the feeling of luck; lucky to have secured tickets for an Newark-Ottawa-Toronto flight after the second flight home was cancelled; lucky to have had a super New York taxi driver who drove us from Newark to Laguardia in less than 70 minutes; lucky to be waiting at the same gate as the last flight to Toronto boarded and to have a partner with the foresight to ask if there were any available seats; lucky to deal with an amazing Air Canada agent and ground crew who went out of their way to get our bags off the Ottawa plane and onto the the Toronto plane; lucky to have a seasoned flight crew that safely landed the plane in terrible weather after twenty minutes of being bounced around the sky like a ping pong ball; lucky we only sat on the runway for one hour; lucky I remembered that at Pearson your bags don’t always come on the indicated bag carrousel; lucky that, still wearing our summer clothes, we caught a cab as soon as we stepped outside; lucky to be home when others still are not; lucky to feel the warm sun through the cold trees today.
It’s been three years since I’ve visited Boston, and the last time we drive through as part of a longer road trip; this time we’ve giving this charming place five days of our undivided attention.
The flight was short and got us here at 11am. After dropping off our bags we headed to the Parish Cafe, whose menu boasts sandwiches created by famous chefs; a very clever concept and good start to our week.
After a short stroll through our Back Bay neighbourhood we checked into The Lenox Hotel to find we’d been upgraded to a corner room with a wood burning fireplace. Chocolates, champagne and all kinds of wonderful touches make this the best hotel we’ve ever stayed at.
Our evening saw the beginning of my goal to eat local lobster at every possible meal; an incredible seafood dinner at Neptune Oyster.