Arrived early…why is it the flights with the long layover times always arrive early? And, when you have a really tight connection they arrive late? So,I get an extra half an hour to kill.

Oh, and apparently Canada Customs Officials are just not big fans of humor.

HIM: What is your destination today?

ME: In the short term, a bathroom…after that, London….

HIM: (crickets)….(followed by handing me my passport without even a flicker of any emotion…)

Hey, it’s not great comed…but would it kill ya to smile a little?…

I then entered terminal B where I learned it’s “whisky fest” time in Toronto. Oh these wacky Canadians and their local customs…

It seems that whisky fest somehow revolves around buying three bottles of Crown Royal at the Duty Free Shop. As I have no extra room in my bags, I had to decline the honor of celebrating this quaint cultural offering.

Next I killed a half an hour eating an overpriced plate of chicken strips. They upheld the honor of airport food worldwide by being almost agressively average and bland…

Then, I walked every store in the terminal…all that activety consumed less than a hour total…

Dropping myself onto a bench in an empty area near my gate I read the paper, and then dozed off.

I awoke surrounded by random Germans (sort of like the French in 1940)…I guess I picked a Lufstansa gate to sleep by?

…It’s that, or I’ve stumbled into the beginning of some secrect invasion of Upstate New York by Germany via Canada?

The payoff…
Now as I type this I have been in Toronto Terminal B for approx. 2 hours and I have nearly exausted every possible amusement offered here.

Three hours to go….lovely, just lovely.


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