earth sky.org
This feels like the day after…
The day after the smoke from B.C’s forest fires finally cleared Metro Vancouver. Crouching over the coast like an apocalpytic dragon for the past two weeks, the heat and smoke kept us hiding in our caves. This is the worst fire season since 1958 when 8,560 square km of forest burned; which means, ironically, that this might be “normal” and not a consequence of global warming (though it probably is). Almost 5,000 square km of forest have burned and continue to burn as 148 fires rage throughout the province.
downtrend.com
Dear Air Transat,
I am so annoyed with you. Not only did you put my health at risk, you blatantly lied to me and other passengers. You would not listen. You would not help us. You put passengers last. There is no excuse for what you did and an apology won’t cut it. I feel betrayed and I will never book a flight with you again. Ever.
Our flight was scheduled to depart Thursday at 1pm. We all arrived and cued in Dublin. While we were in the cue, word went around that the flight was delayed 9.5 hours. It didn’t come from you. The plane was broken. Better to be broken on the ground than in the air! When we finally got our moment with the poor harried girl taking bags, she gave us alternatives: you can take a taxi into town and we’ll pay for it, or you can have lunch at the airport. We’ll give you 12 Euro each. For nine hours? From someone else, we heard that other passengers were told they could go to a hotel and hang out in the lobby.
By the time we got back to the shuttle, the hotel manager was stopping people from boarding. Their lobby was already full. We had stayed in this hotel the night before so I appealed to him and he let us go back. At the desk, I was told they were not to give out rooms. I offered to pay. I was sick. Thankfully, we were given a room but had to pay for the whole night. This turned out to be a blessing. Before I left at 8:30pm, I had a bad feeling, returned our keys, and told the hotel we were going to the airport but not to give away our room.
On the shuttle back to the airport, the driver told us that our flight was cancelled. Sure enough, when we arrived our bags stood there (thank God) with one man standing guard. We took our bags and were instructed to come back the next morning at 8:00am for an 11am departure. At that point, your rep called our hotel and instructed them to refund the cost of the night’s room. They would comp it. They also threw in dinner. OK. Fair enough. (Other passengers were taken by bus to a hotel, given dinner in a banquet room and a room for the night. The next morning the bus brought them back to the airport).
This is when things went downhill.
We had a connecting flight. Dublin to Montreal and then Montreal to Vancouver. I called Air Transat twice (offices in Ireland and in Canada). Both reps told us that they had no idea when or how we’d get home. Our bags would go with us to Montreal and we were to sort it out there.
We cued for almost two hours. You had two people handling all the economy passengers. In this photo, you can see where we are in zone 8. We had to get to zone 5. Before we left Dublin that morning, a rep at the airport showed me an email on his phone that said: we will do everything to ensure customers flying on from Montreal to Vancouver and Toronto will be on the earliest possible flight. They will most likely fly with West Jet or Air Canada. Good, I thought, we’ll be home soon. West Jet and Air Canada fly all day long. Hurray!
As we were landing in Montreal at 1pm, it was announced that passengers flying to Vancouver would be on Air Canada flight 311 at 8:25pm! Another wait time of 7.5 hours! Surely, there were flights to Vancouver before that. Passengers needing to take the one hour flight from Montreal to Toronto were also booked on an evening flight.
I talked to the rep and explained that I was sick and had to get home as soon as possible. She said, that Air Transat had done their very best to get us on the first possible flight, but it was Friday of a long weekend and all the flights were booked. On appeal, she checked her screen and said that Air Transat had a flight to Vancouver at 7:30pm and there were two seats available. It was an hour less. She sent us upstairs to talk to the supervisor. The rep there spent a lot of time on the phone and even went away to talk to someone else. She came back and said, “No, there are no seats on that flight. There are no earlier flights. Everyone is booked up.” This was the “official” lie.
Then I went to West Jet. They had a 7:30 flight to Vancouver with seats available.
Then I went to Air Canada. First of all, she couldn’t find us in the computer for their 8:35 flight. Air Transat spelled our name wrong. When she eventually found us, she said that they had a 6:30 flight with lots of seats available–26 in fact. But she couldn’t change the ticket, even if I paid the $75 per person fee to change it. Air Transat had booked the ticket and not us, so it couldn’t be changed. She talked to her supervisor. Finally, I begged, and yes, by then, I was crying. “Can I talk to your supervisor? I’m sick and we’ve been two days now trying to get home.” She went away again, and with kind regard, Air Canada booked us standby on the 6:30 flight She took our bags and gave us a boarding pass. Thank you, Air Canada!
So, you see Air Transat, you lied to us. At the gate, we realized that you’d booked all the Vancouver people on the 8:35 flight. We were asked: “Are you a party of seven?” I don’t know what happened to the other five people. You lied to us to save yourself time, and perhaps, money? You created your lies, and then you washed your hands of us.
I finally arrived home at 11pm on Friday–24 hours late. It could have been worse, and I know that other travellers have experienced the horrors of travel. Yesterday, I threw up twice. I can’t sleep. Post-traumatic stress? Perhaps.
But your lies and blatant disregard for passenger comfort are what has ruined you in my eyes. Never again, Air Transat. We are over.
Ireland is rife with beautiful locations: sea vistas, mountains, pasture lands, and rolling fields of grain. One of the best places we stayed was a self-catering cottage in Avoca.
The farm is at the end of a long one-track lane with verge on either side. Finding it was an adventure. The first lane brought us to a farmhouse where the lovely woman explained to us where we needed to go. We were close. Then another woman drove in and said she’d take us there. So we followed her to the right turnoff. I was nervous going down the thousand-year-old laneway because if anyone came at me, there was no way I could back out. Fortunately, we made it in and out three times without running into anyone.
It is an incredibly peaceful scene. The hosts live next door in Holly Farm. Sanchia explained some of the history to me:
The house has been here since the early 1600’s. There was a farm and people already living here then. The same family were here for eight generations before the farm was sold in 1918. It changed hands twice since then until we bought the derelict buildings in 2000.
The Granary was a farm outbuilding used for storing the grain used to feed a small dairy herd. It also held the milk churns before they were collected by the dairy.
The farm was a small one, 80 acres. It is now joined with the neighbour’s farm. He sold the derelict buildings and a couple of acres to us.
The lane is part of what used to be called ” mass paths”, going across hills and farms from outlying areas to the church–our lane went between Ballycoog and Croghan (the big hill with the windmills you can see from the deck) and Avoca church. The lane is possibly 1000 years old.
Croghan Hill is the scene of my research. We climbed it the day before and were now on the other side of it. The scene was remote, but we also felt wonderfully secure and part of the landscape. We were able to sit out on the back deck and enjoy the countryside. The weather is fickle; changing from sun to cloud to rain to wind and back again constantly. One of the more beautiful moments was this rainbow:
We were able to watch DVDs, cook our own dinners, read, and generally make peace with ourselves and our travels. Avoca is the town where Ballykissangel was filmed. I can’t imagine how the film team managed with all their equipment. They must have parked in the large lot across from the church on the hill. There are not many stores there–a touristy Ballykissangel shop, a small grocer, the Fitzgerald pub, a Tourist Info shop with computers/wifi–but Arklow is about a twenty minute drive and has all the shops including Aidi and a Dunne’s store in the mall. We also spent a day hiking in Glendalough, which was gorgeous and is less than an hour’s drive north (remembering that I drive slow on these thin twisty roads).
We loved the animals. Three dogs met us every time we ventured out; in fact, two of them spent the whole day with us when we first arrived. There are also a pair of white geese and a flock of free-ranging ducks. Birds sing, sheep bleat, and the wind whispers through the pastures.
Sanchia and Richard have lovely gardens and she gave us fresh zucchini and cucumbers from her hothouse! She also provided duck eggs, almond milk, butter substitute, gluten-free bread, and condiments. She caters to people with food allergies. Just be sure to let her know in advance.
ducks & dogs
If you enjoy the experience of visiting sacred sites, Uisneach (pronounced ish-neck) is one you should not miss. It has all the magic and myth of places like Tara and Newgrange, but it’s off the tourist trail, so you can enjoy a heartwarming trek with a small group. It is in the process of becoming a UNESCO site, so this may not last. The space has a warm and friendly energy, and is staffed by just two (at least the day I went). Justin met me and invited me into the Visitor’s Centre for tea and biscuits. He is an archaeology expert and knows much about this site and others like it in Ireland. He also provided tea and biscuits after the two-hour tour and people had opportunities to converse and ask questions. (The tour begins at 1pm daily–closed Monday and Tuesday.)
Marty was our wonderful storyteller. Here he is explaining how this 10,000-year-old glacial rock is actually the bellybutton of Ireland.
The God Lugh
A Stone Map of Ireland
