So, my first trip overseas since I moved to Australia, after vowing never to take evil long haul flights ever again, takes me to my beloved Northern Hemisphere, where strawberries taste good, winters are cold and Autumn is about to fall. I leave behind me the beginnings of Spring, divine-tasting avocados and Mangoes, and a beautiful city that really feels like home. So it was with mixed feelings that I stepped onto my Qantas jet on Monday.
Long haul flights are, it's true, evil, but there are ways of coping with them, none of which I remembered until it was too late. Any discomfort I felt on the flight was rapidly eclipsed by the horrifying and degrading experience I had while transferring in San Francisco. I didn't even want to go into the US, I just wanted to go through to Vancouver, but the whole experience was awful and has put me off ever going to the States again in my life! The American tendency towards righteous self-importance and misguided over-diligence is embodied nowhere more than in its airports. I felt like a prisoner, the accused, a pariah. I was fingerprinted, had my eyeballs scanned, asked heaps of impertinent questions, was misdirected, shouted at, selected for 'increased security measures', talked to like I was stupid, and finally, after a long run across the terminal, allowed to board my transfer flight to Canada.
Anyway, I survived, and finally made it to Vancouver. A series of email mishaps had led me to land without having made contact with any of my relatives in Vancouver, which was a little unnerving. However, Granny had emailed me her cousin Helen's address so I just hopped into a taxi and drove downtown, arriving on her doorstep unannounced! She was a little surprised to see me, as Siobhan had expected me to land a couple of days later, but there they both were, Siobhan tanned after her trip to Fiji, and Helen taking a while to recognise me. They were both very good at keeping me awake so I could survive my jetlag.
Monday 1 September was the longest day in my life so far. In fact, it lasted 42 hours, as I flew over the date line and landed before I set off, despite a 14-hour flight. (Yes, I can't quite get my head around it either!). Siobhan and I took a trolley car around the city the next day, and Helen's son Bryn and his partner Stephen joined us for dinner -- they were hilarious and the banter between Siobhan and Stephen really something to behold. However, the highlight of the trip had to be our discovery of the Fluevog store in the Gab district. John Fluevog is my favourite shoe designer, and he is Canadian (in fact, we found out he actually lived on that street!). I dragged Siobhan in there and tried on heaps of shoes. She helped me choose a gorgeous pair and I closed my eyes and held out my credit card. Soooo happy.
As quickly as I had arrived, I left for Toronto. This is the real reason for my journey -- a work trip to the Toronto International Film Festival. This is one of the biggest and most respected film festivals in the world, and it's my first time here. Still not quite over my jetlag, I'm now in a whirlwind of screenings, meetings, drinks, random bumpings-into people and hanging out in the Industry Delegate Centre on the laptop. The time difference has made it a little difficult to liaise with Australia, and I'm finding I'm out all day and working all night, with little time to actually sleep, but I'm sure I'll catch my festival wind and get into the swing -- it's only Day 2 so far.
I'll blog more about TIFF in a few days, but thought I'd let you all know I'm safe and sound and loving Toronto. It's a beautiful city, with scores of cyclists and stunning buildings, and despite the unexpectedly muggy heat I'm having lots of fun.
cx
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