The first morning of our family vacation, I woke up at my mother-in-law’s house and wondered about the time. We had no particular plans for the day, so it actually, truly didn’t matter what time it was. When we were there, someone else does the cooking, someone else worries about how clean the house is, and if I really want it, someone else will take charge of my children while I nap. It’s a great place for a vacation.
We chose to fly there this year. It’s a 25 hour drive that we have made several times, but it feels like much more than that. My husband and son left a few days before school ended. The morning after the last day, my daughter and I hopped in a cab for the 5 minute ride to the airport. We patiently waited for our Bearskin Airlines flight to take off, and before we knew it we were on our way. There are only 21 seats on Bearskin planes. We took up 2, and there were 2 other people. We landed 20 minutes later, letting 2 more on. We landed an hour after that and let one person off. We landed an hour and a half later, and we all switched planes to head to different destinations. We landed an hour later to let 2 people off and 1 on. Thirty minutes later we were landing at the Kenora Airport. They call this type of a flight a “milk run” because there rare so many stops.
After 7 days of riding in the boat, being dragged behind it on a tube, spotting bald eagles, fishing for crayfish, and enjoying letting someone else do the work, it was time to reverse the trip and head home. The Kenora Airport is about the size of the library at my school. There is no security, and nobody carries your bags to the plane for you. Five minutes before we boarded the plane, the pilots were watching TV with their feet up on a desk.
As we walked out to the plane, we were accompanied by the desk receptionist / ticket taker. She had put on an official looking orange vest, so I’m assuming she had some other job title as well. The pilot said to her, “Can you call Jerry for me?” She responded, “Sure.” and then yelled, “JERRY!!” A guy came out of a shed, also wearing an orange vest. I assume he was Jerry.
The trip home involved a potential stop at yet another airport, but they were fogged in. Fog. In July. That’s North-Western Ontario for you. We stopped at all the same places, took the bus home from the airport, and I am now at my own house, doing all my own housework, but still not worrying about the time.