Part VI

Clearing US Immigration is no problem. No question why I was only in CUN for two days. Maybe it it my sunburned skin that brings on the indifference, though the agent is pleasant enough. I join the others now gathering at the luggage carousel, readying myself for a long wait. In about 2-minutes, the belt starts up and a few seconds later, bags begin to come down the shoot. I am stunned to see mine is the first one, and it has yet another huge Mexicana Airlines tag on it. This one says: “Distinguished Traveller”, and I guess it does the trick to provide priority delivery. I head off to the Green lane and surrender my card to the Customs agent who takes a quick look, then points me in the direction of the exit. Outside I find the connecting luggage belt and can only hope my bag will be the first down in YVR a few hours from now. At the door to the rest of the terminal building, there is a sign listing which of the other terminals various airlines operate from. AC, I now learn, is in T2, a shuttle ride around the airport, since traffic moves counter clockwise and we are directly between T3 and T4. It is a 3-minute wait for the proper shuttle, not the STAR one this time, but the regular LAX “A” Shuttle. Not many people are on board, and most leave by the time we reach T8, which is UA’s domestic terminal. A few others have boarded as we make the circuit.

At T2, I go to the AC check-in desk, since MX did not issue me with a boarding pass for the LAX-YVR leg. Boarding pass in hand, I make my way through security and find the stairs by Starbucks, as the check-in agent informed me, which leads to the various airline lounges on the mezannine. AC hosts the other STAR partners here, as well as Sir Richard’s own Virgin Atlantic!

I make a few phone calls to reconnect with my various business partners, friends and family. Have confirmed the balance of my meetings in Ottawa and Montrreal at the end of the week, and thus the final leg of this MHD. And with a couple of campaign workers in the Alberta election to see how the turnout at the polls is. A light turnout may mean our results are off quite a bit. Low turnouts are always bad for pollsters. They say, to the contrary, seems to be quite good in Edmonton at least. Some surprises might well be in store later tonight if our findings hold. I also try to get connected to the net to download this report, but have problems with local access numbers, so I resign myself to using one of AC’s computers to quickly catch up on some FlyerTalk posts.

In the lounge, the same Concierge who met me on Friday night, makes the rounds to inform those of us going to YVR, that the gate has been changed. We chat a bit more, and he continues his rounds. An hour later, at the gate itself, as I board he wishes me a good flight home, remembering my name. Though he mispronounces it, I am impressed. Then as I am about the board the airplane, out of the corner of my eye, I catch him approaching and he appologizes and says my last name the way I do. (Now I really have to get one of those SE service cards...]

While the crew on the flight to YVR on a 320 is quite good — I have moved to an open set of two seats at the back of the cabin from my original assignment in 2A — and as the lead FA is serving our first round of drinks, she whispers a request for my main course “just in case we run out, I want to ensure you get your choice” . I should have chosen the crab cakes, but opted for the chicken. Of the many chicken dinners I have had this is not the best, and a great disappointment.

We get to YVR, but somebody forgets to unlock the door to the walkway to the Customs Hall, so we are trapped until an agent arrives with the proper key card, and then the race is on. It is quite a walk, but at least those $5, $10 and $15 airport improvement fees have been put to good use in providing a diorama of early native life in the province. We lucked out and just beat a BA 747 to the hall and are processed relatively quickly. The Immigration agent I got, looked at the address on my card “right downtown, eh?” to which I reply in the affirmative. We chat a bit about Toronto, which he left a dozen years ago after being a streetcar driver. He doesn’t blink at the fact I have only been in Mexico for two days, and accepts my bottle of tequilla is worth $40 and is the only thing I have to declare. My bag makes it down in the second group this time, and it is a quick walk to the Customs area where I hand in my card. The agent waves me towards the exit and I walk into the hords awaiting the others who are exiting after me, the baggage area now filled by the hundreds off BA’s London flight, as well as others from ours.

I make my way to the local transit stop past the pickup area of the Domestic Terminal where my 100 Bus is waiting for its 7:15 departure. Within a half-hour, and for a buck seventy-fivem, it will have at the SkyBus station, three stops from Metrocentre and my hotel.


I am now at the Hilton Metrotown, across the street from where my client’s offices are for tomorrow’s meeting. Good coincidence, since I need two more Hilton stays for that 50K bonus. Already requalified for Gold this past year, so the 4-stays are being used for a very attractive bonus. (The Hilton Times Square in two weeks for the CatmanDoTrois was to be my fourth stay, but since I have to overnight in Ottawa now, I will likely stay at the Hampton Inn, convenient to the VIA Station for an early morning train into Montreal, and half the price of anything in downtown Montreal during a weeknight.) After a quick check-in process, I find as a HHonors Gold that I have been upgraded to the Executive Floor. In my room on the 17th floor, affording an excellent view of my client’s office tower, I find a nice note welcoming me back from the manager, Sergio Moyer. There is, in addition to two bottles of Danone Crystal Springs, a bottle of cranberry juice and a plate of large cookies and grapes to snack on. But my mind is on other things for the moment, and I tune in Newsworld to catch the latest results from across the eastern border: the Alberta election and the Tory sweep. But more critically for me and my partner, are the key constituency results where we have been polling and where we prove once more to be as accurate as one can expect from a poll. I catch the pundits marvelling at the fact that the Liberal Leader hasgone down to defeat: “Who would have predicted this coult happen?” And I smile, knowing the answer. As for our province-wide number, when the Undecideds are removed from our final results last week, we were within our 3.5 percentage point margin of error for all three major parties!
Well, enough. Time to prep for tomorrow’s meeting. My MHD is almost drawing to a close. A Red Eye to YYZ tomorrow, one night in my own bed, and then a return to YOW on Thursday evening for more meetings there and in Montreal on Friday and Saturday, which will conclude the run. I hope I have not rambled on too much. Haven’t had a chance to proof this either, so what you have gotten is a stream of semi-consciousness subject to revisionism when I get the time. Again, my thanks to KH and BB for inspiring this insanity. And my admiration to others who have undertaken this quest, and in most cases did not pause to enjoy much of the Mexican sun the way I did. You must surely be road warriors, each of you.