An awfully big adventure

Hard to believe I am actually doing this. Ottawacker Jr. has peppered me with questions for the past couple of days. When they have not related to the planes I am taking, they have been of the “are you excited yet?” style. He always looks disappointed when I say “I’m not”.

In theory, I should be turning cartwheels. Leaving Ottawa just as the weather is breaking and heading to Spain for a month and a little bit. I’m very happy about that bit – I’m just not very happy that I am doing it without my family. It all seems a bit surreal to be honest. Giving myself permission to go and spend a month focusing on myself (especially after what happened last time) is a big step. And in case you don’t remember, the first time I planned to do this, Covid happened. I flew back to Canada, tail between my legs, on one of the final flights. So if all hell breaks loose this time in the Crimea, you will know who to blame.

Ostensibly, I am doing this to write and to walk, but I think it will be very useful for me to get my mojo back too. I’ve been very down these past months, and I cannot place my finger on it. It is probably something to do with work: after five years of being on extended leave from the government, I finally told them I wasn’t coming back. There is always a hidden psychological terror about leaving the safety net behind, and I am assuming that is what the issue is.

There is little doubt I need to shape up. I walked a couple of hundred metres yesterday and had to stop because of the referred pain in my knee. I am going to Spain in the belief that the mystical healing properties of Andalusia will kick in and I’ll be able to walk again; my rheumatologist looks at me like I am an idiot every time I say that, but there is unquestionably something different about being there. Whether that can be replicated elsewhere is a different question.

Ottawa airport: The government dropped mandatory masking for flights recently; honestly, it is as if they had introduced mandatory no masking. I think there were half-a-dozen of us stalwart citizens wearing masks as I started the ridiculous route that Air Canada offered me on points: Ottawa – Toronto – Montreal – Brussels – Malaga. And it is not as if the planes are empty. I just don’t get it: the virus is there, it is mutating, it kills. More people have died of Covid this year than any other year. Yet people believe it is over.

Montreal airport: The first flight was fine, the second was delayed for half an hour, which of course meant that the 95-minute buffer I had between flights was significantly cut into. Fortunately, Montreal airport is small, so I made the flight without too much trouble, but they were boarding as I got to the gate. Again, very few masks. And off I go!!