Ottawa

Let us begin at the beginning. I am in Ottawa’s International Airport which is unexciting or interesting in itself; the reason I am here are what you care to hear about and my thoughts and feelings at present about the journey are where I will be able to be descript as they relate to me at this very second. I am flying to London and ultimately Varanasi in North Eastern India. Between my frigid origin and the sweltering destination there will be time to explain the steps. Currently I am being told to have my passport ready for boarding my flight to London which has occurred twice. Although the second time in French they refrained from passport awareness, it seems the French are wise enough to realize when boarding a flight you should have your passport ready.

I use to hate flying—I like to think I hid this distain as a child however my parents would probably speak to the contrary. My first time on an airplane I was 6 years old and we were flying to Disney Land I do believe. What do you expect from me, it was a long time ago, nearly 20 years. I can remember being given hard candies before takeoff and landings in hopes of preventing my ears from popping or at the very least associating candy with flying as opposed to those painful ear pops. My parents used this same trick for my car sickness as a child during long road trips.

Time to line up I always seem to have to hurrying to wait.