Ink stained in Saskatchewan with exploding Gucci shoes
Hello from Beirut! Nazy and I have both arrived in Lebanon. Nazy, who left before me, had a great time visiting friends in Zurich for a few days while en route. I came directly from the USA. By ‘directly’, I mean from Santa Barbara to Los Angeles by car and then to Beirut via Montreal and Geneva.
“Flying is not so much fun, now,” I though - aware that retirement had coincided with loss of my exalted Frequent Flyer status. Accordingly, I was dismayed when Air Canada placed me into Boarding Group 5 - an event that almost certainly meant there would be no room in the overhead storage compartment. I put on my ‘business look’ and joined Boarding Group 2. Naturally I was stopped by the gate agent.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m somewhat dyslexic and I mix up my 2’s and 5’s.”
The agent paused and thought. Then he waved me through. Astonishingly, I had an exit row seat and plenty of room in the overhead bin. The flight was smooth and trouble-free, but I had a very short time to change planes in Montreal. Air Canada exacerbated the situation by parking my arriving flight in Saskatchewan while placing my departing flight in Newfoundland. An announcement (“the passenger delaying the departure of Air Canada Flight 834 to Geneva must board immediately!&rdquo
was reverberating as I made my way through a vast corridor.
“They want me to walk to Geneva,” I thought as I rushed through the terminal. (The diagram below, with geographic features superimposed on the terminal map,portrays the distances involved.)
The Geneva leg of the trip was also smooth and on-time and I had no trouble connecting with my Middle Eastern Airlines flight. We were winging our way over the Mediterranean Sea when they passed out the landing cards. As a highly experienced traveller, I was prepared. I pulled a ballpoint pen out of my briefcase and..
“… it just exploded,” I thought. Ink splattered everywhere. (A significant amount adhered to my fingers.) “Oh drat!” I thought. “This is disconcerting.” The lady sitting next to me - an inexperienced, naive, first-time flyer, giggled. Then she offered me a make-up removal tissue that was infused with an ink-removing chemical.
I got a new landing card and borrowed a pen from the purser. Immigration formalities were slow even though I had cleverly positioned myself in the shortest queue - one with but a single person in front of me. Just as his passport was stamped, the one person in front of me motioned to his wife who was behind me. She jumped the queue and joined him. When she was almost done, she called someone else forward… The trend continued until I pretended that I was one of the family.
(And, speaking of family, both Nazy and I miss our grand(est)son.)
In order to finish the semester by the revised deadline, Darius had to grade papers on the first day of our visit. This gave us time to visit Hamra Street for shopping.
“There were huge bargains when were were here last time,” Nazy exclaimed as we started off.
“Last time, we were living in Zurich. Comparatively, every place else had bargains,” I replied.
“They have great first-quality copies of designer brands. In fact, my shoe is pinching me right now. I’ll find a replacement.”
We stopped at the “Outlet Shoe Store”. Nazy found a “Chanel” shoe for $20. She put on her new shoe and we strolled toward the post office. About 400 meters from the store, the sole came off. Nazy hobbled back to the Outlet. They were ready to help. The sales clerk took out a bottle of Gorilla Glue ©..
“No!” Nazy exclaimed. “I don’t want it glued. I want my money back.”
“No returns!” They replied. “Only exchanges.”
Nazy found a “Gucci” shoe. She got three steps out of the store before the right Gucci disintegrated. This time she got a refund.
“This was really disappointing,” Nazy noted as we left. “When we were here last time, the craftsman making the fakes took far more pride in their work. It’s not as much fun now.”
“We get a better deal at the Camerillo Premium Outlets in California,” I replied.
“Yeah! And the stuff we buy there is genuine.”
Later, Nazy and I went to the center of Beirut - a rebuilt district featuring a plethora of designer shops. It was ..
“… like Cameriiloo without the discounts.”
We have met Christianne, the young lady who has made Darius’ last year in Beirut so happy and fun. She is delightful.
We also went to see her family. Nazy was, of course, very charming. She had prepared by memorizing several phrases in French. She made immediate friends with Ingrid, Christianne’s niece. It was a wonderful evening and it was really nice to meet people who have been so nice to Dar.
“Flying is not so much fun, now,” I though - aware that retirement had coincided with loss of my exalted Frequent Flyer status. Accordingly, I was dismayed when Air Canada placed me into Boarding Group 5 - an event that almost certainly meant there would be no room in the overhead storage compartment. I put on my ‘business look’ and joined Boarding Group 2. Naturally I was stopped by the gate agent.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m somewhat dyslexic and I mix up my 2’s and 5’s.”
The agent paused and thought. Then he waved me through. Astonishingly, I had an exit row seat and plenty of room in the overhead bin. The flight was smooth and trouble-free, but I had a very short time to change planes in Montreal. Air Canada exacerbated the situation by parking my arriving flight in Saskatchewan while placing my departing flight in Newfoundland. An announcement (“the passenger delaying the departure of Air Canada Flight 834 to Geneva must board immediately!&rdquo
was reverberating as I made my way through a vast corridor. “They want me to walk to Geneva,” I thought as I rushed through the terminal. (The diagram below, with geographic features superimposed on the terminal map,portrays the distances involved.)
There was a spectacular view of the setting sun, an almost new moon and Venus as we left Montreal.
The Geneva leg of the trip was also smooth and on-time and I had no trouble connecting with my Middle Eastern Airlines flight. We were winging our way over the Mediterranean Sea when they passed out the landing cards. As a highly experienced traveller, I was prepared. I pulled a ballpoint pen out of my briefcase and..
“… it just exploded,” I thought. Ink splattered everywhere. (A significant amount adhered to my fingers.) “Oh drat!” I thought. “This is disconcerting.” The lady sitting next to me - an inexperienced, naive, first-time flyer, giggled. Then she offered me a make-up removal tissue that was infused with an ink-removing chemical.
I got a new landing card and borrowed a pen from the purser. Immigration formalities were slow even though I had cleverly positioned myself in the shortest queue - one with but a single person in front of me. Just as his passport was stamped, the one person in front of me motioned to his wife who was behind me. She jumped the queue and joined him. When she was almost done, she called someone else forward… The trend continued until I pretended that I was one of the family.
(And, speaking of family, both Nazy and I miss our grand(est)son.)
In order to finish the semester by the revised deadline, Darius had to grade papers on the first day of our visit. This gave us time to visit Hamra Street for shopping.
“There were huge bargains when were were here last time,” Nazy exclaimed as we started off.
“Last time, we were living in Zurich. Comparatively, every place else had bargains,” I replied.
“They have great first-quality copies of designer brands. In fact, my shoe is pinching me right now. I’ll find a replacement.”
We stopped at the “Outlet Shoe Store”. Nazy found a “Chanel” shoe for $20. She put on her new shoe and we strolled toward the post office. About 400 meters from the store, the sole came off. Nazy hobbled back to the Outlet. They were ready to help. The sales clerk took out a bottle of Gorilla Glue ©..
“No!” Nazy exclaimed. “I don’t want it glued. I want my money back.”
“No returns!” They replied. “Only exchanges.”
Nazy found a “Gucci” shoe. She got three steps out of the store before the right Gucci disintegrated. This time she got a refund.
“This was really disappointing,” Nazy noted as we left. “When we were here last time, the craftsman making the fakes took far more pride in their work. It’s not as much fun now.”
“We get a better deal at the Camerillo Premium Outlets in California,” I replied.
“Yeah! And the stuff we buy there is genuine.”
Later, Nazy and I went to the center of Beirut - a rebuilt district featuring a plethora of designer shops. It was ..
“… like Cameriiloo without the discounts.”
We have met Christianne, the young lady who has made Darius’ last year in Beirut so happy and fun. She is delightful.
We also went to see her family. Nazy was, of course, very charming. She had prepared by memorizing several phrases in French. She made immediate friends with Ingrid, Christianne’s niece. It was a wonderful evening and it was really nice to meet people who have been so nice to Dar.
On Saturday, Darius wanted to demonstrate some of the skills he has amassed in Beirut: He rented a car.
“We need to stop at the pharmacy before I allow your mother to get in that car.” I proclaimed. “We’ll need something for her nerves.”
Darius ignored my reasonable request and boldly ventured into the maelstrom of Beirut traffic noting that things were much improved now that ‘most people stop for red lights, now.”
(More about Beirut next week.)
For last week's letter, please click here.
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