So here is a story about the very first day of our honeymoon.
Bree and I enjoyed a very entertaining ride to Abbotsford courtesy of friends Nathan and Kristina (engaged and lovin’ it) where we got on our first plane on a trip that would find us in Lisbon. Abotsford Calgary London Lisboa: that was the plan.
Moments after we had reached cruising altitude, the airline pilots made an announcement “We have recieved a report that the Newly-weds Briana and Will are on board this afternoon enroute to their honeymoon destination in Lisbon.” or somethig to that effect. The flight attendant brought us wine (on a little commuter jet, that didn’t even have peanuts of pretzles, that is a bigger deal) and we tinkled our glasses over the Okanagan as a celebration of our new life together, at 20,000 feet. Every one clapped and cooed. It was awesome.
But who is responsible? Mom (Leah) who was there at the airport? Aunt Marlin and Ralph? The “most helpfull Air Canada employee I think I will ever meet” guy at the front desk at the airport?
It could have been any of these but I have a hunch that it was none. I have a hunch that my cousin John, an air traffic controller in Edmonton radioed the flight crew to tell them the news. So fess up whoever you are, and, thanks. That was nice.
I shouldn’t be surprised. The three plane voyage from Vancouver to Annapolis had me changing planes faster than Belinda Stronach’s Party affiliation. I lept off one plane in LAX and on to another in a different terminal in under 20 min (I know, in LAX? Really?). In LAS I walked off the arrivals gate, crossed the smoke filled departure lounge to a gate accross the way and was the second to last person on the (mostly-empty-thank-god) jet to Baltimore. 
As we ascend in to the darkening emptyness of the transcontinental atmosphere, I am thinking, “I wonder if my bag made the transfer?”. I had asked the smiling lady at the gate, she had said that the bags always transfer quicker than the people. Not so… and now I am bagless (24hours so far) in Baltimore-Annapolis.
The town is nice. I like the Historic part of town and the boats. The shops are nice and tourist and Navy dollars seem to be doing a good job at keeping the otherwise pervasive feeling of decay, perversion and rot at least ten blocks away from the Annapolis town center. I am in the same silly clothes I travelled with but the airline gave me some mini toiletries and I am off to the races at the annual Annapolis Boat Show.
Bree told me, not this time but other times, “always keep a change of clothes in the carry-on” but as usual, I probably made a “ppbsiiisht!” noise and waved my hand flippantly. Goes to show ya, listen to the Bree Bopper. She is a sharp one.
Well, that is all my good buddies. Talkchya later.
