I checked out of my hotel, the Westin at San Francisco Airport and took the shuttle bus. The route had only just recently started and I caused consternation with the driver as he didn't know which terminal it was in. I knew it was from the International Terminal but he insisted on going inside to check. After all, what does an Irish lady recently arrived know compared with him - he who drives round and round the various terminals day after day. [:w] Well let's just say I had noticed the Westjet sign at one of the doors the day I arrived! Mind you, I could understand his confusion because outside all of the terminals there were pennants welcoming Westjet back to SFO.
Once inside the terminal it seemed strange not to be going to the VS check-in area but over to Area 11 where, tucked into a corner Westjet had set up shop. There were two desks open, one as a bag drop and one for checking in passengers, which line I joined. The checkin in line was faster than the bag drop! One thing that amazed me was the amount of boxes and non-personal luggage items being checked in and it was very reminiscent of the Hawaiian flights where people seemed to bring everything, including the kitchen sink, with them. At one stage a lady brought a couple of dog carriers ready for transportation. These were service dogs in training and going to the St John's Ambulance service. I was kind of half-dreading check-in given the length of time other people were taking but I need not have worried. It was quick and easy but I did have to stop yer man from removing the green immigration slip in my passport. He started to give me directions to security but I assured him I knew the way.
At security the line was long stretching out into the terminal. However it moved quickly and soon I was at the screening area. I had looked around for instructions with regard to laptops but could find none posted anywhere. None the less I took out my laptop and placed it in a bin along with my other stuff and joined the line waiting to go through the scanner. At the last minute I realised I was wearing a belt and took it off and over to the the screening belt. The security lady glared at me as I did so but I took no notice. The next thing was that my tray was brought back from the screening and the security guy asked whose was it. I acknowledged it was mine whereupon he snarled 'You shoulda put the laptop in a separate tray'. I apologised but this was enough for the security lady and instead of allowing me through the screening arch I was directed into a booth where I had to stand with my hands above my head while the machine screened all around me and I then had to stand on another mat till a second machine recognised my face.
Once through I was on my way to gate A2 and just as I got there I spotted the incoming flight taxiing in. It boded well for an on-time departure. I was in seat 5A which I had pre-selected at an additional cost but I didn't want to miss any of the views and the middle seat remained empty. The 737 had PTVs in the seats and television and movies were available on a pay per view basis with a credit card slot alongside the screen. After the safety demonstration the cabin crew announced that they would be coming round with items for sale. First of all it was with headsets for the PTVs followed by a pillow and blanket set. Next was for hot food and/or sandwiches and after that there was a complimentary drinks service which included tea, coffee and sodas accompanied by either a snack mix or cookies (which in reality were currant biscuits). The crew were very pleasant and worked hard throughout the flight.
After take off we circled towards the north and had views of both the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate Bridge before heading towards Sacramento. The fields below were yellow from the summer heat and every so often a small town or village could be seen. The scenery changed as we headed over the Rockies and there were some stunning views of the snow-clad peaks. Every so often a glacier lake could be seen nestling in the folds of the mountains. The terrain changed as we hit the prairies and soon Calgary appeared into view. We flew over the city and the Saddledome and Stampede field could be seen just before we made our final descent.
As we taxied in I was somewhat surprised to see a Thomas Cook plane there but decided it was a charter for places like Banff and Lake Louise. On deplaning there was a line of carts with their drivers wearing red jackets and white cowboy hats. 'Wanna ride, ma'am?' asked one man. I looked him up and down appraisingly, decided he was too old for me and the realised he was referring to his cart! [:w]
From then on it was to Immigration and one of the most unpleasant that I have experienced. The officer was a young woman, young enough to be my daughter, but by God was she tough. Where had I come from, where was I staying, how long was I staying? When she heard I was staying with friends she wanted to know how I had known her and for how long. Eyebrows were raised when I said it was through the internet and still remained raised when I said we had met several times before. Where did she live? Now, I don't know about you but for most of my internet friends I know vaguely where they live since most of my communication is on-line. This really threw me but somewhere from the inner recesses of my mind I managed to dredge up the name of her street whereupon she gave a bit of a grunt. Any presents? Now by this time I was totally flustered as this lady was making US immigration sound like a pleasant chat over afternoon tea. 'No', I said and once again the eyebrows flew heavenwards. 'What! Not even chocolate?' By this stage I was covered in total confusion. 'Oh, yes, chocolate. I'm sorry, I'd forgotten' I'd also forgotten about the miniatures of Baileys for her, not to mention the miniatures for another friend who was joining us and whose plane was touching down even as we were talking, as well as the gifts that I would be taking back to the US to give to my friends in northern California the following week. 'Chocolates are gifts', she snarled but like a cat toying with its prey she had obviously got tired of me and was seeking a new victim. My passport was stamped and I was allowed to enter Canada.
My bag came through very quickly after that. I debated as to whether I would wait for my friend in the baggage hall but figured he may well have got through ahead of me so went out to a sea of cowboy hats and boots, giveaways thrust at me from all sides and country music pounding in my ears, to greet my hostess for the next few days and a few minutes later the third member of our trio.
