Newfoundland: Day 0 (The Fellowship of the Rain)

In retrospect, I'm surprised I ever got to Newfoundland.  After my fourth time through airport security, I thought to myself, that had to be the end of my transportation troubles.  But it was not to be.  Christine and I did get on the standby list for the earlier flight out of Halifax.  As that plane boarded, we sat at the gate and waited, fingers crossed, hoping our names would be called.  Once again, the Air Canada representatives acted as if it was their first day on the job.  The rep at the gate called over the microphone, "We've had a change of planes, and now we can't fit all the ticketed passengers on board.  Would anyone like to give up their seat?"  Mayhem ensued.

So now, everyone's panicking, wondering who's going to be kicked off the flight, and I just sat back and relaxed.  I never expected the standby list to come through anyway.  Christine was still optimistic, but I think that was the latest dose of whey proteins from the juice bar talking.  So the rep started calling out the names of people who would have to be moved to a later flight...That is, until some official, maybe the copilot or something, walked up from the airplane and started speaking animatedly to the Air Canada rep about the fact that the plane wasn't even full!  He and the rep started going back and forth over a discrepancy in the number of seats available.  So then, it turned out, the people who had just been "kicked off" shouldn't have been, but some of them had now already left the terminal!  The rep began frantically calling their names over the loudspeaker, exhorting them to return to board the plane.  After all the dust had settled, the rep said that she had one spot left for a standby passenger.  Christine and I spoke quickly about whether either of us should take it and leave the other one, but then the same copilot guy returned and said the plane was now full.  The rep had forgotten to log in one of the passengers.

The flight left without us, and now the final piece was in place.  The only flight left to Newfoundland would be departing in two hours, and wouldn't get in to St. John's until after midnight.  After having waited eight hours thus far, another two was nothing.  When that last plane finally began to board, Christine and I were ready, boarding passes in hand.  And then I heard my name called over the loudspeaker.  I approached the new Air Canada rep and asked if there were a problem.

"Yes, your seat on the plane is malfunctioning, and now we don't have a seat for you."

I actually started laughing.  To skip ahead a bit, they did find another empty seat for me on the plane.  I did fly to St. John's, picked up my rental car, and drove to the hotel, called "The Battery."  It was pouring rain and freezing cold, and the fierce winds were forcing the rain sideways into our faces.  All I wanted to do was get some sleep.  But in the hotel lobby, there was no one at the front desk.  And there was no bell to ring.  Christine and I looked around, and out of options, just started yelling.  "Hello?  HELLO?  ANYBODY HERE?!"  No one responded.

It took half an hour for the manager to saunter in to the lobby, apologizing for keeping us waiting, explaining that she had been busy with her taxes and that she had been continuously stymied by a malfunctioning computer monitor that had been flickering on and off every few seconds.  My sympathy was not forthcoming.  With room key in hand, I found my room, and I began to unpack.  Before collapsing on the the bed, I found myself drawn to the view from outside the window.  My room overlooked the harbor and the surrounding city, now lit up against the dark sky.  It was still raining heavily, but the scene before me was beautiful, and it was the first moment of serenity I had enjoyed since leaving Boston.  I snapped this rough pic through the wet window with my iPhone, and at last, I began to feel the adrenaline begin to surge.  I was in Newfoundland, and my adventure was about to begin.