Vancouver: Flying Solo

February 29, 2012 0

On a crisp spring morning I drag myself out of bed far too early for my liking. Discarded piles of clothing that didn’t make it into a suitcase litter the bedroom floor. Evidence of late-night packing efforts after a long day at work. With Brodie already settled in over in Vancouver and the dog vacationing with my folks, the house is eerily quiet in the dim morning light. The only reason I’m even up is a breakfast meeting with the new manager I’ve yet to meet in person. So far he only flies East when I fly West. With annual reviews around the corner it would be nice to meet just once before that painful process draws to a close. Unfortunately that means rising with the sun on what’s going to be a much longer than average day. On the plus side, I don’t actually have to go into the office. Once that appointment is done I’m officially on vacation and straight back to the house to finish charging devices and cramming items into what I hope will be a large enough case.

A short Luas trip brings me to Heuston station where I wait for an airport bus that allegedly shows up regularly according to the timetable at the deserted stop. I’m starting to have some serious doubts about that before one finally makes an appearance. It takes a circuitous route around the city before finally heading towards the airport. The unexpected jaunt along the Liffey as far as Dublin Port reminds me that this is a nice area for a stroll. The extra height of the bus gives a clear view south to the Aviva stadium and the mountains in the distance. It’s a beautiful day in Dublin and it almost seems a shame to be on my way elsewhere. After passing through the designed-to-annoy security checks at the airport there’s time to sit with scones and tea watching the sun light up the slopes of the Wicklow mountains. It’s not long though before they shrink out of sight as my plane ascends above the clouds on a roundabout route across the ocean (via Heathrow). Next stop Vancouver. I’m curious to see if it can make a better impression on me the second time round.  Given that my memories consist of a beautiful park and crowds of mentally unstable homeless people, it’s hard to tell how that’s going to work out.



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