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This isn't my home climate either, but the summer plantings look right: similar variety of trees, choices of garden flowers, and the weedy maple saplings growing up through other plants look like home.
The trip itself was fine once I got checked in at the airport: a car service (Eastside for Hire) stood me up annoyingly, with a series of phone calls starting a few minutes before the time I had booked the cab for. The driver wasn't much good at communicating on the phone, and I had to repeat the full street address to her. It didn't help. By the time she called to say she really was at the front door, I was on the 550 bus, about to get onto the highway across the lake, and hoping that the traffic would be better than predicted. At 7:12, on the bus, I told the driver that "6:45 means 6:45, not whenever you find a map of Bellevue." The transit part (bus over the lake, light rail to Sea-tac) all went smoothly, giving me 20 minutes from when I got off the light rail to get to the Air Canada counter before the official cutoff for checked luggage.
There was almost no queue there, and the people in front of me kindly let me go first when I explained, and then I had an easy time at airport security, leaving me time to buy and drink tea before boarding the puddle-jumper to Vancouver.
The lesson here is either "go back to the other car service" or "6:45 is enough time to do this by bus if I actually go to the bus stop at 6:45 rather than 7:05."
I got to Montreal a little late, but at that point I could do it on automatic: find the ticket machine, buy weekly transit pass, 747 bus to Orange Line metro to 90 bus, and here I am. I was very glad to see![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rysmiel, and we had a late-by-the-clock dinner including poutine, then stayed up past 1. OK, fine, my body should be on west coast time: except that I was up less than six hours later. Still, I am here, rysmiel is here, there is tea, and we even have plans for tomorrow.
The trip itself was fine once I got checked in at the airport: a car service (Eastside for Hire) stood me up annoyingly, with a series of phone calls starting a few minutes before the time I had booked the cab for. The driver wasn't much good at communicating on the phone, and I had to repeat the full street address to her. It didn't help. By the time she called to say she really was at the front door, I was on the 550 bus, about to get onto the highway across the lake, and hoping that the traffic would be better than predicted. At 7:12, on the bus, I told the driver that "6:45 means 6:45, not whenever you find a map of Bellevue." The transit part (bus over the lake, light rail to Sea-tac) all went smoothly, giving me 20 minutes from when I got off the light rail to get to the Air Canada counter before the official cutoff for checked luggage.
There was almost no queue there, and the people in front of me kindly let me go first when I explained, and then I had an easy time at airport security, leaving me time to buy and drink tea before boarding the puddle-jumper to Vancouver.
The lesson here is either "go back to the other car service" or "6:45 is enough time to do this by bus if I actually go to the bus stop at 6:45 rather than 7:05."
I got to Montreal a little late, but at that point I could do it on automatic: find the ticket machine, buy weekly transit pass, 747 bus to Orange Line metro to 90 bus, and here I am. I was very glad to see
rysmiel, and we had a late-by-the-clock dinner including poutine, then stayed up past 1. OK, fine, my body should be on west coast time: except that I was up less than six hours later. Still, I am here, rysmiel is here, there is tea, and we even have plans for tomorrow.