We both made it (2)

Time now to reflect on the trials and tribulations of getting Mrs Verno out of the USA and into Canada. Repeated attempts to verify Mrs Verno’s visa status for Canada drew a less than a blank. The fact that I had managed to check-in only added further jeopardy. The vision of being ripped apart at the border with a rousing orchestral soundtrack in the background underpinning the tragedy of the event was never far from my thoughts. We did not have to check-out of the hotel until 12 midday and we were determined to stay until the very end. Cleaning staff tried a number of times to get in but Mrs Verno was having none of it. Amenities were used to their fullest. To the point that I was almost looking up what the Spanish was for “I would leave that a minute.”

We spent a pleasant couple of hours in the hotel lobby/bar area with the golf on and reading. We had arranged with the bellman to have a taxi arrive at 2pm so we would have lots of time to sort out Mrs Verno’s visa issue.

You can see that we were expecting Ray to turn up at 2pm and indeed he did. Although I noticed that the business cards on the dashboard were in the name Ken Han. That said Ray turned out to be the first person we had met who came from, as he described it, Burma. He left 20 years ago along with many members of his family who were now all around the world. A very interesting conversation.

We finally made it to the airport and immediately set to leaving the USA as a couple. The Air Canada attendant phoned a number that looked to have been programmed into her phone. Clearly not the first time this issue had been presented to her. Details were exchanged, looks cast in our direction and then the dreaded hold music. Time stood still, my bag had been labelled and hovered in no-man’s land on the scales. We had to stop it from being propelled on to the big conveyor belt that led to the plane in case we had to remain in the USA. The music continued on and on. Then suddenly, a muffled conversation. Apparently Mrs Verno’s passport had been labelled as British. A quick delete and problem solved. I have my own theory on how this happened and rest assured it insures that no blame can be attached to yours’ truly. We were both relieved and within minutes found ourselves through security and settled in front of a huge to screen watching Rory bring it home. Magic.

All the kerfuffle with the visa meant that Mrs Verno’s passport and I did not have seats beside each other. Rather we were 12B and 13B. I was right behind Mrs Verno and made sure to kick her seat every view minutes. You have to.

We arrived in Vancouver and exited without incident. As we enetted arrivals there was no sign of the Vancouver Vernos and then there they were, Sean, Ciaran and Isobel and a smothering of hugs meant we had finally arrived. A quick jaunt and we were greeted by another Mrs Verno, Andrea with more hugs and thereafter the evening evolved into a blizzard of conversation, great craic, a few beers (notably Honey Logs) and pure magic.

A great night’s sleep followed. We had Sean’s famous porridge to look forward to. Michael will remember this from last year, we called it the StoolMaker. But no, a lovely breakfast of bacon, eggs, croissants and avocado. Set up nicely for the day. Ciaran set off for his first lesson in learning to drive a big truck. 18 gears and no experience of stick shift. Should be fun. We looked forward to hearing how he got on later. The two Vernos and Mrs Verno set off for a road trip that finally took us to Granville Island. A good explore, a piece of jerky and a cup of coffee and then we recreated a photo from last year.

We stopped off back at base camp before heading to Steveston with Isobel. The obligatory photos were taken of the wharf. It was at this point that Isobel helped her father understand the bare essentials of photography. You can be the judge as to whether she was correct.

And Sean.

Well we headed back for dinner, being prepared by Andrea and what a feed. Extras abounded and bellies were filled. Over dinner we learned how Ciaran got on and between, stalling on intersections, having a less than communicative instructor and learning how to double clutch a manual gear box everything seemed to go very well. Next lesson Thursday. Should be epic. Ciaran thought he would challenge me to drive around Richmond to feel his pain from earlier. His disappointment was palpable as I navigated the roads with aplomb, even though I say so myself. You up to date now folks. A trip to Squamish tomorrow and a trip across the Lion’s Gate Bridge.