My flight from Montreal took off around 9.10 AM. It was a pretty uneventful 3-hour flight. Two small cups of fruit juice. The worst thing about the flight was the fact that I had somehow ended up next to another Dutch passenger, a Winnipeg-born, but Tilburg-raised woman in her forties. Not a bad conversationist, but Dutch, eh? The best thing about the flight, was the imposed ban on carry-ons. They should really keep it on flights under, let's say, four hours. Most people really don't need any stuff on short flights anyway. The plane was clean, neat, and what's more, after touchdown everybody remained seated until after the plane had docked with the terminal, instead of charging right at their baggage in the overhead compartments. A really beautiful moment took place just before touchdown, as the plane was descending through the clouds. Winnipeg was under a thick layer of clouds at that time, and the clouds remained at exactly four inches above the porthole I was seated next to for a good half minute. Pure magic. I can't say whether it rained at that moment, but it certainly might have.
***
The stairs down to the baggage claim area were situated right in front of the footpath from the plane into the terminal, and the first thing I saw waiting downstairs was my friend Marilyn. Upon greeting each other we headed to the baggage carrousel. It took about ten minutes before I realised we were waiting at the wrong one. My suitcase simply didn't appear, and I have a good memory for faces, even ones I only see for a few seconds, and I could tell the people waiting next to me, hadn't been on my flight. I asked just to be on the safe side. As soon as my eyes caught a glance of the next carrousel, I saw my suitcase, and it passed immediately in front of us.
***
Marilyn then took me to her blue VW golf, and took me to her home. I wasn't impressed by what I saw of Winnipeg. Immediately next to the airport there was a big industrial area, with buildings that looked like they were peeling off. The road was equally crap. When we passed thru a bunch of residencial areas it didn't get any better. Some of those houses, even the fancy ones, looked like they were on the brink of collapse. Gardening is also not a hobby of many Winnipeggers. I'm sure they have bad winters, but a little effort in the spring could make all the difference... Aargh. Eventually we ended up between a few ugly yellow apartment buildings. Marilyn's apartment was on the third floor of one of them. Fortunately, whatever irritated me about the outside, was made up for on the inside.
***
I was just dead when I arrived there, so I immediately took the liberty of stretching out on the couch. The couch was to be my bed, though (don't worry, it was one of those convertible ones), so that wasn't much of a problem. I did manage to stay awake for another couple of hours, though. I wasn't only incredibly tired, but also hungry, so I was fixed up with a pasta meal.
***
Marilyn also turned on the TV, which was a bad surprise. There was this movie on, George of the Jungle II (much funnier than the furst GotJ), and after every five minutes of film there were three minutes of commercials. It could have been the other way around, but I don't even want to think about what it was like. And now the European Commission have legalized the same over here! Aargh!!! And there wasn't even the faintest hint of variation. It was always the same commercials. A blonde news anchor reading commodity news and faking an orgasm while eating a twelve grain bagel from Tim Horton's, a fake German calling himself Dr. Z making it absolutely clear to me that a Dodge isn't the right car for me, a schoolbus taking parents to The Source, for some education on the bare necessities of life for their children (If I have kids some day, I'll be the f*ing judge of that!!!), and more of that rubbish.
***
At night when I woke up, Marilyn just returned home with her friend Dennis who was going to make us some food: marinated steaks from the oven. Let me tell ya, each of these steaks was four times the size of a steak you can buy at Dutch supermarkets. My appetite was diminished a little, I think the traveling did it, so I couldn't even finish one of the smaller ones. They did taste good, though.
***
The next day, Marilyn took me on a tour of the city. I think when it comes to square mileage, Winnipeg is about twice the size of Amsterdam, but the population is slightly smaller. The assessment I made on Sunday was absolutely correct. Most of the city was in a state of disrepair, and the roads were crap. When I was in California in the year 2000, the roads there were equally crap. Just to give at least one of you an idea. One part of the city that did look good, though, was downtown, with its sky scrapers.
***
After awhile my blood sugar level was hitting dangerous lows, as I had skipped breakfast. Fortunately by that Marilyn was just driving onto a road with all those fast food restaurants. We stopped at an Applebee's restaurant, where I had some sort of Asian wrap with french fries and gravy. I had seen it a few times before in America, but the quantities of ketchup Marilyn put on her fries amazed me once again. We, the Dutch, eat mayonaise on our fries by the way. Enough to absolutely drown them, yet less than that portion of ketchup.
***
Before returning home, we squeezed in a visit to a tiny mall, where I got some stamps to mail a few postcards. The rest of the mall was a disappointment, though, and within ten minutes we were back out again.
No, I haven't returned to MySpace. This acquaintance goes back eleven years.
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You are Sandusky, OH
Loser! You are boring, have no sense of adventure, no sense of humor, you have no friends, in fact you're no good to this world. You are definitely Sandusky, OH!
Famous Sandusky, Ohio, residents: probably a few hockey players, but no one worth a second glance
* Soraya
