I was hoping my flight home to be a relaxing and stress-free one.
That wasn't so.
My first flight was from Paris to Brussels.
An excerpt from my thoughts while on the plane:
"Hm...Brussels. Where is Brussels? Oh my gosh, Katrina! How can you forget where Brussels is!? What happened to your geography? If only Gavin was here right now. GAHH where am I going!? Maybe it's Germany again. All my other layovers were in Germany, it's gotta be Germany! Yeah. It's Germany."
So I get to Brussels, certain I'm in Germany, when I walked into the lounge and saw the words "Belgian Chocolate".
Oh....
Needless to say, I was very excited to be in Belgium and immediately bought a box of Belgian chocolate.
Brussels to Montreal was my next plane.
It was 10:20am when I took that picture. I questioned (for about two seconds) how on earth we were going to 3,454 miles in only one hour. In my defense, I had only slept 3 hours in the last 36 hours.
I was so happy when I saw my first bit of Canadian soil after 5 weeks away. There really is no place like home. However, my first few hours back in my home country were not very pleasant.
After a rough touchdown, we got off the plane and had to go through customs.
When I left from Paris, they told me I could pick up my luggage would go straight to Toronto and I could pick it up there.
So I go through a bunch of stuff and walk past the baggage carousels and through an exit towards the next lineup. I get there and the lady asks "where's your bag?"
Me: "uh...isn't it on the place to Toronto?"
Lady: "No. You need to pick it up and bring it here."
Me: "Oh.....so...do I go back?"
Lady: "No. Go to the customs office and they'll get it for you."
So I leave the secure area of the airport and go to customs where they find my bag. But I have to get drilled by a scary looking officer before I can pick it up. Picture his voice in a threatening and accusing voice.
Officer: "Why'd you leave your bag?"
Me: "The person that checked my bag in Paris said it would go directly to Toronto."
Officer: "What's in the bag?"
Me: "My clothes, souvenirs, a bottle of wine, some biscuits."
Officer: "Why were you in Paris?"
Me: "Visiting family."
Officer: "Where else did you go?"
Me: "Uh...Rome, Paris, London, Cardiff."
Officer: "How long were you in each city?"
Me: "Um...two weeks in Rome, about a week in Paris, a few days in Cardiff, and a week in London."
*Officer stares at me*
Officer: "Okay, that's all. You can go."
Personally, I think I got it easy. There girl before me, who made the same mistake, had the same questions, but then they made her open her luggage and lets say she packs like a proper girl. With bras, underwear, and assorted clothing spilling out of her overstuffed bag.
So I had to do a full check in and go through security again because of that. At least I still had an hour to spare afterwards.
My trip of Montreal to Toronto was uneventful until I went to pick up my luggage.
Annnd it's gone.
Hopefully it shows up soon...I want my stuff.
It was a bittersweet moment leaving Europe. I've enjoyed my adventures so much and while there were good times and bad times, I will always cherish each moment. I learned so much and experienced so many things, but I am glad to come home. Spending so much time on another continent, I learn something very important: While it is good to see and learn about different countries and their cultures, there is no place like home.
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| Proud to be Canadian |
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