csutter

Part 9: AC355 BOS-YYZ: Why? Why? Why?
E190 C-FHKI, Economy Preferred, Seat 15F

Today is "Why?" day, as I am about to discover. It starts with my alarm jostling me out of bed at 4:40am, a mere couple of hours after landing the night before (oh why am I doing this to myself?), followed by a nice cold shower and second degree burns from the in-room coffee maker. I manage to put my clothes on the right way around after only a handful of attempts and stumble out into the terminal. I make it halfway down the first travelator before I realise I forgot the greeting card we all signed for my friend who I am meeting in Toronto today. Raise my fist to the Red Sox banner on the ceiling, curse a little, make my way back to the room and dig it out of my suitcase. Second time's the charm and I soon make it to Air Canada's adorable little baby terminal annex in Logan's Terminal B.


I head to the checkin area and my mood is further "enhanced" by the machine refusing to print my usual souvenir BP. In a grandiose demonstration of airline IT, the machine refuses to even recognise any of the following: The barcode on my printed BP ("Unable to read barcode"). My booking reference ("Booking reference could not be found"). My passport ("Error 1501/B"). My LH Miles&More account number ("invalid").


There was only one manned desk which seemed busy so I give up and head towards the gate. The TSA agent motions at me that I'm free to go after passing through the metal detector, moving his hand (and watch) through the arc in the process. He seems immensely confused by the ensuing beep and calls for secondary. Fantastic.


I enter AC's little gate area after the customary groping and realise I should have probably enjoyed a coffee before arriving there. The small food outlet doesn't quite represent the level of catering I would have expected. There are only three gates in this area, but plenty of free seating this morning. I quickly head to the gate agent to have my passport checked and take a seat at the window. Boarding starts soon after and it takes an unusual amount of restraint not to stand up when priority boarding is called. "This is not oneworld", I repeatedly mutter to myself while rocking back and forth. The man sitting across from me looks at me funny, gets up and moves three seats further down.


Once on board, I make myself comfortable in seat 15F. This is one of the "preferred" seats on this particular aircraft, AC's version of Main Cabin Extra, and has about the same amount of legroom as seats on BA's E190 (which have unusually huge legroom due to union agreements limiting the cabin to under 100 seats). The back of the cabin looks a bit tighter, so I am glad I managed to snag this seat for free at online checkin.


We take off over the bay, with some of the most fantastic views on takeoff that I have ever experienced from a plane window.


The service commenced, which was perfectly adequate for the short service and delivered by an incredibly friendly crew. By all accounts, it was better than my previous night's AA F flight. I gulped down a much needed coffee and caught up on a bit of writing, occasionally checking out the map on the seat back (!) IFE which displayed some more signs of fantastic IT.


We landed on time and I disembarked, making my way across the terminal to the Canadian border, where I arrive to find a completely empty immigration hall. I head up the first booth and the fun begins. The officer is incredulous when I respond to the usual "How many days are you staying in Canada?" question with "12 hours". The smile disappears from his face, he looks me up and down and proceeds to interrogate me for what seemed like forever.

Why am I coming to Canada? Who is this friend I am meeting? How do I know her? Why would I go visit her for such a short time? What have I brought with me? Why do I not have a bag with me? Where did I just come from? How long am I staying in the US? Why am I travelling from the US? What am I doing in Boston? How long am I staying in Boston? Who am I seeing there? How do I know this person? Why is my high school friend in the US when I have an Austrian passport? Why do I have an Austrian passport but a British accent? Why do I live in London? How long have I lived there? What do I do in London? Do I have proof of my right to work in the UK? How am I getting back to Boston? Do I have proof of my return ticket? Why on earth am I flying to Boston via Chicago?

He pauses and thinks for a moment, during which I begin to fear that either the rubber gloves of doom are about to be deployed and/or I am close to becoming the first person in living history to be refused entry to Canada, then exhales sharply, stamps my passport and customs form and goes "alright, have a good trip". Welcome to Canada, eh?