To Berlin and Beyond

Please note, I'm posting after the fact, usually. The date shown at the top of each post is the day of the post, but the date I put is the date of the event. 

Thurs Sept 21, 2023

I’m finally travelling, after four years of staying at home, mostly due to the pandemic. I’m off to Berlin for 10 days, then 16 days in Portugal, biking in the Algarve with my indirect cousin, Elly.

I’m at YVR, alone in a lounge area, surrounded by burbling water and the sound of birds coming from the rafters. A raven croaks from the rocks behind me.

Well, not really. I look for birds, because sometimes they do get caught in large buildings like this, but find instead a bank of small speakers surounding the area. And some good-looking fake rocks around fake tide pools. The sounds are putting me to sleep, and I don’t want to sleep. There are very few people around, and none close by, not for fifty metres. I’ve been lulled into taking off my mask.

I left Pender on a SeaAir float plane, an itty bitty thing with a very loud engine. The flight was quick and easy, and I was on a shuttle for the main terminal within 5 minutes of landing (sea-ing?) Without the float plane, ferries would have added an extra day to my journey, and while the timing of the planes means hanging around here for some six hours, I’ll take six over twenty-four any time.

First transport: DeHavilland Beaver

With magnification, you'll see John on the dock

Our intrepid pilot

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a line-up at the Lufthansa desks before there was any staff to serve us. I waited elsewhere. Turns out an afternoon Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt has been cancelled, and I imagine all the waiting people were there early to try to grab an alternate flight. My flight to Munich is still a go, but late by 45 minutes.

Security was the easiest I’ve ever experienced, line-up at zero. Still felt like I was rushed through, however, and in that rush I forgot to pull out my little ziplock of liquids, and it went through with my bag. They didn’t notice. That’s not reassuring.

For anyone needing to spend time in the international departures area here, you can find my little sanctuary by walking down past Gate 59. It’s beside an atrium filled with native plants, including three young trees that might be hemlock as suggested by their droopy tops. The atrium is closed today, but looks inviting, with manufactured breezes and mist. Just outside that semi-natural oasis, I’ll enjoy the sounds, now of humpbacks singing in the distance.

 

YVR Oasis

 p.s. One day, I'd like to fly on a green-and-white striped plane.