Departure day

I turn on the computer to find a message from Rowan asking where I am. Dinner is nearly ready, she says. She should know (in fact does) that I’m leaving today, arriving tomorrow, but she’s got it muddled. Another message from Mark and Sarah, who I am supposed to be meeting next Tuesday, who’ve turned up a week early. I let them all know I’m still on the island.

In the afternoon I board the floatplane from the island to YVR south terminal where I am met by my friend Catherine, who is, fortuitously, in town. Fortuitous first because it’s wonderful as always to see her and second because she’s stopped by Continental Coffee (beloved for years by the staff of the Greenpeace Vancouver office) and purchased a pound of their house blend for me to take to Rowan as a thank-you-for-having-me gift. 

We have a drink and light bite at the pub beside the floatplane terminal, then she drives me to international departures.

Wearing masks is required inside the airport, which is reassuring. Everyone is masked as they board the flight, but as soon as this British Airways plane pulls away from the gate there is an announcement that those passengers who wish to do so can now remove their masks. Most do. 

Thankfully there is no one in the World Traveller Plus seat beside me, so no concern about removing my mask to eat dinner. I watch one film (Belfast), read for a bit, then attempt to get some sleep. After an hour or two of shuteye, I wander to the back of the plane to make sure I haven’t missed the duty free trolley. Oh. Apparently BA stopped doing duty free sales on board after lockdown. Bugger. One carton of duty free fags, not two to last three weeks. Oh, well.