Well, I made it home. I woke up in London plenty early for the flight and since I'd used Air Canada's internet check-in, I even had an aisle seat (you can pick your seat assuming the plane's not full already). Just before 1:00 London time, the wheels lifted off and my stay in Europe ended. The movies being shown were Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, which I'd seen, some black and white movie where the guy from Spiderman and Reese Witherspoon enter this TV show (called Pleasantville) and introduce emotion (and therefore colour) to the characters, and Fantastic Four. A pretty good lineup, Pleasantville wasn't as bad as it sounds, and Fantastic Four wasn't as good as it could've been, but I already had heard that so it was good to see it free on a plane.
That said, I don't know if I'd use Air Canada again for a transatlantic flight. There were no problems, BUT from what I hear almost every other airline in the world (I believe Virgin was first) has personal TV and you can choose the movies, pause, etc. Nevermind looking around the stewardess to try and make out the charactersin a show you don't really want to see anyway. But I suppose I made it home safely and with the only mishap being further damage to my backpack (they broke a zipper) so personal TV's aren't really that important in the scheme of things.
Well, that's not quite true. They also changed my connecting flight from Calgary to Saskatoon. It was supposed to leave at 4:00 leaving me to arrive at 6:05 in Saskatoon. However, I'd not memorized the details and when I got to the gate and saw that the flight was leaving at 6:15, I just remember the 6:05 and thought it sounded right. With the time change, I reasoned, one hour difference, plus a 45 minute flight, that should be about right. Of course, it didn't occur to me until I was on the plane that the time change was an hour in the opposite direction (I seem to have problems with these time zones, don't I?) and too late to alert anyone in Saskatoon that I'd given them the wrong time.
Nevertheless, when we got home (my cousin Gus and his family was on the plane home from Athens as well) everyone was waiting and had eaten so I didn't feel AS bad. And it sure was nice to see everyone again. It IS nice, I should say. Aside from the fact that I wake up inexplicably and uncorrectably by 6 AM everyday, and occasionally am tired by 10 PM, there's not much jet lag to get over. It was a little weird to look on a map and see myself back in North America again, but things really haven't changed much. The restaurant's been renovated (again), there are a few things different around the city (HEL is closing, the College/Circle interchange is coming along and they've started digging for the new cinema) but otherwise, things are seemingly as I left them.
Oh sure, my car wouldn't start (I replaced the battery and it's fine now but I think it's running a little strangely), my old 373 phone number has been given to an old lady (who I feel sorry for this week), my cell phone doesn't exist (I'm going to get a new number today), the cabin is sold, my room was clean, Mariah is twice as tall, Nicole has moved out, and various other bizarre phenomena, but things are still the same.
I've spent the two days here running errands, getting replacement cards, a new license, sorting out papers, bills, and so on, and getting life back in order. I start work again on Monday, and then I will be back to where I was when I left almost exactly 7 months ago.
Now, so far as this site goes. A few things. First of all, I've finally gotten around to picking out my Favourite Photos of 2005. Check them out and please feel free to vote for your favourites so that the best come to the top. Or go through all the photos and pick out your own favourites. You may have noticed I added a link on the left hand side called "Site Feed". If you have a news aggregator, use FireFox, or have any other means of subscribing to feeds, then this may be something for you. It basically lets you know when I update the blog so you don't have to check. In FireFox, if you add it as a Live Bookmark, it will also tell you what the latest 'headline' is.
Which is where I'm going to leave it this time in order for a nice segue into my next post about a site you've probably heard about (it starts with a 'g' and rhymes with 'zoogle'). Meanwhile, I'll be working on getting everything done I said I would, more photos and so on posted, and other more Christmas related stuff. If I don't see you before then, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and all the best. Thank you for sharing this past year with me.Read More...
So, without a doubt, this is the last post I will be making abroad for a good span of time. For you see, it is Sunday night, 11:40 PM at this exact instant and I leave for home in exactly 13 hours. But, before I go and do a hastily thrown together recap of some of the good times that we've shared in this last 7 months of bloggery, let me complete my trip up until the time that I go to sleep tonight by recapping this final fantastic weekend (and the days leading up to it).
Wednesday. London, England. Temperature: +3C. Looked around London. Amazing Christmas displays, Oxford St. is lit with Christmas-light chandeliers. Carnaby St with multi-coloured flourescent lights and spinning mirrors that act to make it look like there are more bulbs than there really are and also give a cool effect. Regent St is covered with ice blue lights, flashing/'falling' snowflakes, and various other effects, not to mention characters from the highly anticipated Chronicles of Narnia. London really does shame every other city in the world (well, okay, I've really only been to a few cities at Christmas time, but New York was one of them) when it comes to lighting up for the season. Not that London itself is better than New York, of course, nor even that individual homes have much festiveness at all, even compared to Saskatoon, but the city lights are something to be seen. So, I walked and looked and shopped a bit the backpackers' way: walking near all the places with stuff you'd like to buy AFTER they've closed. Of course, with the humidity (not as bad as Dublin but still, to use a local expression, brass monkeys out there).
Thursday. London, Still. Temperature: What am I, an almanac? Thursday, I had to switch hostels from the Generator (big, lots to do, fun, but a little grotty) to a place called the Ace Hotel (they missed the 's' when they did the signage and decided to keep the name as a result, I think). It's not as central and on the other end of the centre, but not too far. I also wanted to go up to the north end and the Hellenic Bookstore and pick up the Greek text I ordered. Finally, today was the day I wanted to get to Oxford, since Friday I was meeting up with Catherine, a friend I met on Contiki in Scandinavia. However, the bookstore took longer to get to and to visit than anticipated, largely due to the great selection of Greek texts. I wound up buying the one I'd ordered anyway, but it doesn't hurt to look at the others. I also picked up some other Greek books that might help my sisters if they're so inclined, including Learn Greek in 25 Years, which seems overly optimistic for me but is quite a funny book (written in English thankfully).
So, by the time I was done there, and knowing as I did that I had to pick up my bag from the Generator, transfer to Ace, and so on, I gave up on the idea of Oxford today. I instead walked around nearby Camden Town, though I didn't make it to the market (I've seen my share anyway), and finally transferred hostels. By then it was 3:00 and I was meeting some friends (Simon and Tre) at 6, so I strolled around for awhile, looked into musicals (nothing playing that I especially wanted to see, so I didn't bother), and met them a little after 6 in a small pub off Tottenham Court. We had a drink there and then they took me out for Indian food, which was great because it was something I'd been wanting to do while in London anyway (they have a very large Indian population and a good reputation for it). The dinner was great, I tried a sample of a bunch and can definitely recommend Chicken Tikka Masala, quite the tasty dish. We went out to a bar and sat on the patio (so I guess it wasn't too cold, though even with the heaters on it wasn't exactly warm) and passed the evening. It was great to meet up with them here, both very cool people and great to chat/catch-up with. It was a good Thursday.
Friday. London. Etc. Friday was the day for me to go to Oxford. Catherine wasn't in until 9:00, and I woke up and got ready to go. I'm not sure where the time went, but by the time I'd wandered over to Victoria Station to catch the Oxford Tube (really a bus service), eaten, and so on, it was 1:30. Still, away I went, after all, I'd been told it was only a quick 30 min hop. 45 mins at the outside. However, whoever told me this must have forgotten to mention that this number applies to only ideal conditions, no traffic, and getting on at the very last stop in London and off at the first in Oxford, possibly using a plane instead of a bus. So almost 2.5 hours later, I was in Oxford. 4:00. It was already getting to be dusk, and most of the things I'd come to see, I wasn't going to be able to anyway. The College buildings were closed. The museum (called Ashmoleum Museum amusingly - to me anyway) was open but I didn't have time. And of course I'd travelled without a map and just got off the bus somewhere I thought looked remotely centralish. Given the duration of travel and my meetup at 9:00, I didn't have much time. So I wandered the town centre and bought some books for the way back/plane. It's certainly a nice town but a little quiet and there's not much to see in the evening, so that was the extent of Oxford for me. I got back right in time to meet Catherine (after a pretty nice dinner of sorts - tapas, actually - in a Spanish restaurant) and we went out for a drink or two and the weekend officially began.
Saturday. The Weekend. Oops, I mean London. England. Temperature: Really quite pleasantly warm. Finally Saturday had come and with it, the one thing I was most looking forward to in London: Franz Ferdinand LIVE(!!!!) First, of course, we had to pass the day. This proved relatively easy. We had breakfast at a restaurant on the corner, the first time I'd had eggs in who-knows-how-long, and, surprise surprise, walked around some more. Catherine, who's living in the UK at the moment, showed me some cool places she knew. But for some reason, even with the little drink we'd had (really, one beer and we shared a bottle of E&J Cabernet) we were both a little drowsy and fighting headaches. Stupid California. So, to get rested up for Franz, we went to a movie. I'd seen everything playing, so we went and saw Harry Potter since I'd missed the first (now having seen it I know) hour and a bit last time. It's a long but good movie, but with the ads in front, it was too long. I really hate paying as much as we do for a movie and then sitting through COUNTLESS ads. Trailers/previews, yes. Good. I love previews. But car ads, insurance ads, sometimes the same ad twice (for a shampoo, except once was with a blonde and once with a brunette). Then they had the nerve to talk about pirating and how it wasn't as good as the cinema. Newsflash: Pirates didn't pay £12 for the show (WAAAAY too much to begin with) and didn't have to sit through a SINGLE SECOND of crappy ads. But I'm ranting. Again.
With the movie out, however, we realized that thanks to these ads we were behind schedule, since we got out at 6:00, still had to get all the way up to Wood Green, and then take a shuttle to Alexandra Palace, where the doors opened at 6:30. So much for a spot right at the front, but we made it there by around 7:00 and only missed a few songs of opener The Rakes' set. We managed also to work ourselves to very near the border of the tall people so we were looking over a sea of short people not too far from the stage, right in the centre, close enough to see everything but far back enough to get a good mix of direct and speaker sound and see the screens. Next up was The Cribs, I believe, who were not bad at moments but need to learn a thing or two about dynamics. And then, stomach aching minutes later (for you see, I'd made the mistake of a beer at the show and there was NO WAY I was going to get to the washroom and back to my spot again so it was time for a hold-a-thon), the lights dimmed. Enter Franz Ferdinand.
The show was brilliant, and the more I think about it, the better it gets in my head. The venue is, incidentally, the courtyard of an old palace, not open air, but covered with a collapsable canopy that they opened a little to let some fresh air in and keep it from getting too warm. So, there's Alex Kapranos (a Greek/English boy, by the by) and the band and all of a sudden who needs the washroom anyway? The set was great, a good mix of old and new. The sound was flawless. And I've become a convert for their new record. Well, OK, I liked it, but now I love it. I don't remember the setlist by any means, but they played Dark of the Matinee twice (two versions of it), Take Me Out (the crowd went nuts, of course), Auf Asche, well, really, they covered it all. They opened the encore with Jacqueline. Well, Alex did. Then, intro finished, the lights came on and the band came in and it was one of the best encores out there. What a Saturday night!
Sunday. Today. Last Day In London. We went out for breakfast again, with me singing various Franz songs all day. We went shopping in earnest for people at home, though in the end I came away with nothing for them. It's hard to do when you haven't seen them in so long. I'll have to do that when I get back. We had a nice Italian meal, we walked in Hyde Park, and now I'm packed and typing this. Hyde Park was nice, but more open then I expected (I guess with all the Jack The Ripper history, I was expecting a lot of trees). So here I am ready to go home. Excited but somehow nervous. Or, well, that's not the right word, but either is excited. It will be weird to leave Europe behind and return to reality, but at the same time, I can't imagine travelling anywhere at the moment.
So I'll save the recap for later, I guess, and just say that it's been great and I'm looking forward to seeing many of you tomorrow and in the coming week. It's been a long time, too long (well, for most of you) :) and I hope we get that rectified soon. See you next time in Saskatoon, and the blogging will continue. Thanks for reading and travelling with me.
UPDATE: I am pilfering photos of others to at least spice up the blog a bit. I'm doing my best to use photos of things I saw and from this year so it's KIND OF like I took them. Read More...
Manchester was a great time, I finally got to meet Mike (aka Mike1) and visit with him. As has been the case with everyone I've met here, he was a very generous and great host and I definitely appreciated the place to stay and taking me around Manchester. I got in at about noon and after some food, we went back to his flat to drop off my backpack. Then, we headed out, by now, probably around two or three o'clock. And we went to the boulevard of a street, where a staircase was located, and went down into a place called The Temple Bar. Ironic, a little, considering that this was the place in Dublin that precipitated my loss of property. However, the experience was much more enjoyable, with all sorts of good music on the jukebox and various European beers at our disposal. Interestingly, the place used to be one of those under-the-street-washrooms. Don't worry, you wouldn't have guessed.
Anyway, with the music flowing the beer was not far behind. Yes, it is still mid-afternoon. There was a gig that night (of course, it's a Saturday after all) and so we left there a little later and went to see The Wolf Parade and some other bands, but the sound wasn't so great. Or perhaps my ears were clouded considering it was 8:00 and I'd been drinking with Mike since about 2. In any case, we stayed for them and the next band, which wasn't too bad either, and then I'm sad to say that I became quite drowsy. I can't keep up with these Brits, what can I say? Or perhaps it was jetlag from, you know, the lack of time zone change from my early morning flight from Dublin. Actually, I had had a late night and early morning, so that probably factored in, Anyway, instead of going out clubbing in Madchester, I wound up at their flat, fast asleep, halfway through a Family Guy episode. I woke up again at about 2:30 AM and watched some TV before Mike and his roommate came in. We hung out for a while, they filled me in on what I'd missed at the club, and then, since I'd already slept quite a bit, I watched some tv, read, and watched a movie before going back to sleep.
The next day, we went out to a pub again and watched a couple soccer (okay, okay, 'football') games. It was kind of cool to be sitting in a pub in Manchester watching a really great game between the famed Manchester United and the less famed Everton. It started, 50 seconds in, 0-1 but that was tied up in the second half and then Manchester took the lead. A great game, as I said. We all hung around (we were there with a bunch of Mike's friends), got some groceries for dinner/breakfast, and that was that.
Another night in Manchester and before I knew it, I was headed for York via train. The ground was covered in what looked to be frost but was actually snow. It took a while before I realized it was snow at all. I said goodbye to Mike, stopped in a bookstore to read a guide, and decided York was a good idea. So on the train I went. Leaving Manchester, the skies were cloudy and maybe the odd snow flake could even be seen if you looked long enough. But 10 minutes out, it became a full flurry, snow falling down like it was Christmas Day or something. I never imagined I'd see that in England. The ground and trees were covered, so clearly it had been snowing for a good spell. I also sat next to a nice old man named Dennis who talked with me about the UK and other things and the trip really did speed by.
I got to York around noon but it was a bitter cold and while I did walk around, even to the famous York Minister (which was closed, sadly - it is Europe's oldest gothic church and home also to the world's largest stained glass piece), but it was just miserable out and the snow was falling mostly as rain. I ate dinner and hung around in the hostel, then went out that evening for a bit before calling it a night. York is a nice town, though, and I was determined to see the rest of it before departing for Oxford the next day.
The next morning, I met Marci, a Vancouver business/tech journalist staying in the same room, who actually looks like a shorter Minnie Driver quite a bit. We both went around the town together and, after I discovered there were no available beds in Oxford for that evening, I decided to go to London instead and take a day trip out to Oxford. It turned out that she was actually also London bound and that there was an embassy party she was invited to. She managed to get me on the guestlist through a friend of hers at the embassy and so that was settled. We did explore the rest of York first, the old Viking tower, castle, and a bit of a walk through the Shambles and a free museum. Then, we picked up our backpacks, took a look around at the railway museum near the station (it is usually home to the famed Flying Scotsman, but it was out on loan and apparently actually in use again for a short time). Even so, there were some very impressive and massive old steam engines, if only I'd had a camera for grandpa. There was a particularly big Chinese one that for all I know is still in use today. They also had a replica of the Japanese bullet train.
Chugging along, after looking at old trains, we got on a new one bound for London and off we went. The timing was tight and her London flat is quite a ways out, so we just went to the hostel quickly and got ready there. Then, after a cheap dinner here that wasn't too bad considering, we went off to the party. It turned out to be a cabaret of sorts, first a comedian, then a pianist (she was originally from Saskatoon and good though her songs weren't exactly what the party called for), then another comedian who was spastic and annoying at which point it was time to leave. The party wasn't too great and there really wasn't much mixing going on for a party whose intent was supposed to be to meet other Canadians abroad. The MC, Craig something, was the only good point of the party, he was bloody hilarious. Well, that and being able to say I went to an embassy party, I guess. We hung out at an English pub for awhile and called it an evening.
Ah yes, the title. Well, first of all, there was that whole Temple Bar Manchester thing. Then, of course, my return to London, my final stop before going home, 7 months after arriving here in May. And finally, walking to the embassy, we happened to pass Russell Square, and more specifically the Royal National Hotel, where I first stayed when arriving in London 4 years ago. Not to mention a red phone booth I have a picture in and the pub where I tried (and hated) my first Guiness. Yes, many circles have been drawn this week, and I guess there'll be a few more to come yet.
In any case, the remainder of my time should be fairly active. I'm going to take a day trip out to Oxford, I have managed to get some tickets for Franz Ferdinand (there's another circle for you: I was going to see them in Dublin before I lost everything (which is why I left Belfast that day). I just missed them in Manchester. And now, finally, I'm set to see them). I'll probably go see a musical while I'm here, and I will be meeting some friends on Thursday and Friday. I can't believe that the days remaining are now in single digits. Quite likely I'll be reporting my final stories in person. See you soonRead More...
To conclude the drama, in the end, nothing was found (perhaps a leprechaun ran away with the stuff as depicted here). I was wholly unable to track down my camera, passport, or wallet, but am now ready to continue my travels. After all, there are only 10 days left - I have to make the most of them. The week itself was rather uninteresting, I spent a couple days working with the embassy, saw a few movies, read a few books, and walked around Dublin just looking. Not exactly the type of stuff that fills blog pages (yes, I hear you already saying that's exactly what has filled my blog for the past however long). By the end of Monday, as you know, I had cash in my pocket once again. By Wednesday, I'd finished my paperwork with the embassy, and I had a new credit card delivered to me. And today, Friday, I am now the not so proud owner of a replacement passport. Not so proud, but much uplifted. It was time for a celebration on Friday night.
There've been other distractions, thankfully. I visited the Guiness brewery, which was interesting in a way but in another, more accurate way, over priced. Still, I had a nice view of Dublin from the top of their 65 acre (!) facility. Well, sort of. It was nice, but because it's been so cold here and is humid to boot, it was mostly a misty haze beyond 2 km. I stopped in at St. Patty's Cathedral. I walked the old town. I've visited with Barry a few times and I must say that it's nice to have company. And of course, I've been visiting with the people in my hostel.
So the time has passed quickly given how little there is to do. I'm going to head off to Manchester tomorrow and see some other friends, and then from there, I'm not sure. Probably just travel around England seeing what there is to see and doing what there is to do, and making it to London on Thursday or so to spend my last weekend there. I guess I'm not done with that city after all. I do hope the weather warms a bit, it's humid and cold! And, yes, I witnessed a little bit of Dublin snow last night and this morning. Brrr. 17 degrees above back home isn't sounding too bad at all...
Update: I'm now in Manchester and should be meeting a friend, Mike, who's letting me stay with him, in an hour or so. Which is lucky because the hostels here are full. And I guess because I've been reporting negative things for the last bit, I'm coming across as unhappy, but really, aside from Friday, I've been about as happy as I could be under the circumstances. I've been enjoying a little down time, though it wasn't really my plan, it's just not very interesting to report. I am, as someone else said, still travelling Europe, after all, how bad could it be? And no, I'm not getting that for Christmas. JOHN.Read More...
Yesterday on: No More Pictures! Dean left his camera bag and/or every other egg in his camera case basket on the dreaded blue Air Coach bus and had been told by Zil, a friendly Lithuanian that it had been found. I was told to expect that bus to be coming around soon or else to expect a call from the airport if I missed it. So, I continued checking coaches. Some drivers I met more than once and they recognized me. Some drivers were helpful. Others were not. But regardless, none of them had my bag. Nor had the airport staff called me.
Eventually, as 9:00 drew near, after some more calls to the airport office and talk with drivers, still thinking it was last reported safe, I decided that it was as much as I could do that night. I was cold, I'd not eaten since breakfast, and I knew from a quick internet check that all the internet availability for hostels was long gone in Dublin. I went into the police station and contacted my credit cards, putting them on hold for 48 hours and, because they wouldn't do this for me, cancelling my MasterCard. Officer Reilly called their lost property agent again for me and still nothing, and then showed me where some nearby hostels were. I called the Canadian embassy but once I reported my passport gone, well, there was no turning back. If worst came to worst, I would have to do that and then stay in a Salvation Army type thing until I had money, but I was going to try hostels first. And try I did. I went to six hostels. Full, Full, Full, Full, Full, Full. If you add fatigue, hunger, a sickness-to-my-stomach, and about 5 minutes walk between all those, you should accurately feel how I did. No money. Nowhere to sleep that wasn't a hotel, and so on.
I finally came upon the Rainbow Hostel, which I'd heard good things of, and so was also invariably full. Nevertheless, I trudged up the stairs where two all-too-cheerful people greeted me. "Let me guess," I said, "full?" / "What?" / "You have no rooms left?" "Well, only dormatory rooms" / "Right, beds. You have beds?!" / "Yeah, mixed dorm, 5 other people" / "There can be 50,000 people as long as there's a bed for me!" / "Yeah, no problem" / "Well, it might be... here's the situation... ". At this, they looked at me, and I told them my story. Then Danny said, no problem, stay as long as you need, no problem. I offered him the only money I had... 20 Euro, though I said I'd like to keep at least 10 for food. "No, no," he said, "don't worry. Here's the key, take your stuff up to room 11!" And I gratefully did.
The common room was quite full of people having a good time on a Friday night, but I wasn't quite in the mood as you might imagine. I read my book, State of Fear, and managed to fall asleep. I woke the next morning, showered quickly (they're not the cleanest hostel in the world, but they're certainly good people), and went down to the police station to use the phone. The bag hadn't turned up last night and there was no sign of it. I called everyone. I stopped more bus drivers. I took names and tried to get a hold of someone, anyone, who could answer me honestly. Nothing. I left my number with them again, as for some reason all my information was no longer there in their offices, and they said they'd call me back later in the day. I tried to wander around the city, but my mind was too concerned with HOW my bag could go missing when it had been supposedly been found and WHAT I could do, what leads I could chase, to track it down. I wasn't enjoying myself at all. At the time I didn't know Zil's name, and I had no idea who the mystery man was he'd talked to who "knew everything" and told Zil my stuff had been found. I went back to the hostel and ran into Danny again. Danny gave me €40 to buy food for the weekend, and I did go grocery shopping late that afternoon and finally ate, 24 hours later.
I also was back at the police, and decided to report my cards stolen finally so I could get some new ones over here. American Express was no go, because they didn't have an office in Ireland, but Visa said they'd be able to have a card to me by Tuesday. Which would be fine. I managed to find out the number to their garage at the airport by watching a driver dial it and called them up. And I finally decided it was time to call home - after all, I'd told Lee about it yesterday because she'd called right at the worst possible time and I wasn't able to pretend to have a great time (not to mention my phone had no money) and since I had been unable to answer subsequent calls or reply to her, she probably got worried and told them anyway. So I bought a phone card for long distance and one for my cell and away I went.
There was a lot more detective work on Saturday, collecting names, trying to get a straight story, names, and so on, but the results of that are already peppered all over this post, so no point elaborating. I did have some friends from a website I run who live in Dublin, and once I got my phone charged I realized they'd been trying to get a hold of me. Barry offered to take me out for dinner and food and the other Barry offered me a place to stay if I still needed it. We ended up going out for some pints (thanks, guys!) and I also got to meet Carl. All very nice people, and I was thankful again that this had happened here in Dublin and not elsewhere. Though having it happen in Saskatoon wouldn't be the end of the world either, relatively speaking.
Sunday there was not much to do. My dad had sent me some money on Saturday night and so I went Sunday morning first thing to collect it. It turns out that most Western Union places don't allow you to receive money, and the one that did didn't have enough on hand. No money today. Wait for the post office on Monday. I was also waiting for Air Coach's office in Dublin to open on Monday so I could find out the name of my driver and get to the bottom of why my bag one minute had been found and the next, had never been seen. I tried harder to get the names of people that were instrumental to my story and case, but even for three hours of legwork, I had nothing. I did a little walking around again, and some more reading, but there really wasn't much of interest on Sunday. Ran into Officer Reilly and updated him, used the police station phone to get Visa to also send some emergency cash. Put more money on my phone, ate, and that's about it. And then Monday. Monday was a busy day. I even made myself a todo list so that I shook the right trees first for information.
1) Western Union. Once again I had money. Whew! (thanks, dad!)
2) Call Visa. Visa was supposed to have called me to tell me which bank I could get my emergency cash from, but I called them and they hadn't been able to make contact with the manager of AIB. They told me they'd call my cell phone when they had. It wa a 'rigamarole' if you will.
3) Police. I went to them again and they had no reports of it turning up. I told them the rather suspicious story of the reappearing bag, but they didn't seem too interested. I used their phone to call the Air Coach office and came as close as legally possible to pretending to be a police officer without actually pretending to be a police officer. I figured I'd get their attention. "Hi there, I'm calling from the Garda (what they call police) Station here on O'Connell Street, and looking into a missing camera bag with camera, wallet, Canadian passport, and other identification that was left behind on one of your coaches Friday afternoon at approximately 5 PM." Etc. Sounds official, doesn't it? But of course, I only told them I was CALLING from the police station. Anyway, I wasn't able to get their office so I thought I'd come back after lunch. I went out and bought myself a new money pouch to keep my valuables on me at all times once again, and a new wallet for my newfound money. I of course also called Green Cats, the lost and found agency, but still no sign of it.
4) Airport. After lunch, I told the driver of an Air Coach bus I'd lost a camera bag and was going down to the airport to sort it out. I wasn't paying. At the airport, I met Peter, whom I'd talked to before lunch, and also Brendan, the very man who'd told Zil my camera bag had been found. Peter was anxious to look into it for me, and Brendan was helpful in getting me the information I wanted, names of drivers, and so on. He went to the office to talk with Mary and do that for me. Meanwhile, I also checked the airport's lost and found, but no luck as always. The trip there was more or less a bust except I got some people motivated a bit and put faces to the names. And, I guess, confirmed it wasn't at the airport. While there, the bank called, and Michelle, the bank manager, said she was closing soon and wasn't I coming by. So again, Visa had dropped the ball and not returned my call. I got back on the bus and made it to the bank just in time.
5) Bank. Well, I've taken the suspense out of it, but I did make it literally just in time, and managed to get my money though there was some confusion about exchange rates and so on (the emergency money was in American dollars).
6) Embassy. It was time to face the fact that I wasn't going to see my stuff, or at least hedge my bets, so I called the Canadian Embassy and reported it officially stolen. I was told to come in early tomorrow morning to get started on a new passport.
So, that's the rest of the weekend, in a nutshell. Really, I've felt like a detective over here, and I think something is up, something fishy, but I also feel like a bad detective because, well, what the heck can I do about it? The bank manager suggested I go to the press, but really, other than making me feel better, it probably wouldn't do any good. Especially if the bag DOES turn up in the future when I'm gone. And that's assuming that the press would even find the story worth the ink it was printed on.
There's a little more to tell, but I'll get to it soon... thanks for reading!
