Bad weather in Boston, hardly a surprise, so I decided to show up at the airport and throw myself on the mercy of the ticket people (not being on any of my regular carriers, calling did no good, and I was told to pound sand plead my case in person. The agent vouchsafed that Air Canada had just issued a waiver and the telephone route had been open to me after all. Not a big deal, after checking my bag with its precisely 1.14 L of booze (the duty-free allowance being 1.15 L), I got a spot on an early afternoon flight and spent the rest of the morning in the US Air Club (no problem getting through the other security; apparently people do this all the time ). AC 361 BOS YYZ 1340 1533 E75 1A was AC 369 BOS YYZ 1950 2143 E75 2A I reflected to myself that it was telling that the Canadian carrier was using the Brazilian instead of the domestic product on these flights; I wholeheartedly endorse this, as the Bombardier company makes dreadfully uncomfortable planes. The seat and the overhead space were both surprisingly adequate, and I slept through the flight as usual, missing out on some small starchy snack, so after the quick and easy immigration I sought out Casey's, where a somewhat nice Alexander Keith's pale ale and a very fine 8-oz top sirloin, done rare rare as requested, put the balance back into life. Vegetables were boiled cauliflower, broccoli, and carrots. I checked the arrivals board - good thing I rescheduled - my original came in an hour plus late, and I would not have come even close to making my connection. The Maple Leaf Lounge is modern in a '70s way. Vegetarian snacks - I'm partial to the hummus, which is more sesame-y than lemony and pretty good. I tried the Sumac Ridge Merlot, cheap-tasting sweetish swill, and switched to a somewhat better Shiraz from Koonunga Hills. Set my alarm for 40 minutes before the flight, a good thing, as I fell hard asleep and in fact had to be wakened up by kind passersby. AC 135 YYZ YEG 2255 0109 320 2A This flight was staffed by poker-faced but perfectly fine attendants; it got in a hair late to an empty airport. lili was waiting for me at bag claim, whence we went off and called the hotel shuttle. Nobody told us that all the Leduc hotels use the same service, which would make lots of sense if only they tell you. Not a big deal, my sharp eyes (joke) got us on the right bus. It was mighty cold out, so the modus operandi was for one person to run out of doors for a few secs, scan the neighborhood, and report back to the huddled masses yearning to be warm. The bus got us to the hotel in jig time; my sharp eyes, however, almost got us dropped off at the Homewood Suites instead of where we'd booked. The Hampton YEG is nice enough and friendly enough. They also overcharged me 10% on checkout, but that was easily rectified. We had what is usually called a "junior suite," with a bed and a couch, giant bathroom, lots of empty space in the middle. The couch was comfy, and I think I had the better deal, though the hike to the bath was considerable. The standard breakfast offerings in a larger than usual breakfast room. I had my usual high-cholesterol high-salt meaty mess with a banana; she had a waffle, being fascinated by the do-it-yourself machine. The "maple" syrup was crap. An easy bill correction; an easy trip back to the airport. Uninteresting security. Lunch at the Maple Leaf. They had standard breakfasty things when we arrived and changed them out gradually - first came some crudites (the hummus was really sour and weird, so I had a cup of pepitas); later turkey sandwiches and chicken noodle soup or vegetable chowder - thank you, no. lili asked me what made a soup a chowder, and I gave her the whole lecture from that chaudiere idiocy all the way to what I consider the present (i.e., 20-30 years ago, as nobody who has made a decision since Carter has made a good one). No alcohol until 11 or so, and rather than bolt down a drink in honor of its freeness, we decided to pass, a poor decision as they didn't offer on the plane. AC8138 YEG YZF 1145 1328 CRJ 2F We walked out of the nice warm modern ('90s I would guess, perhaps even '00s) terminal to the freezing tarmac to get onto one of those nasty domestic products. Whatever made a snowmobile manufacturer think it knew how to make airplanes I don't know. The flight was mostly above the clouds until we broke through somewhere south of Hay River to skim the lake so everyone could see the pressure ridges. Periodically you would hear, from various parts of the cabin, younger voices asking, what are those, followed by the wise deeper voices saying, pressure ridges.