Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men...

It takes a special kind of family to leave the house for our 1545hrs flight at noon and still only arrive at the check in desk at 1415hrs.  That family would be us.

We packed up Kelly's minty green Corolla and got our friendly neighbour Carl to drive us.  At about 32nd Ave and 176th st, Ron asks Kelly, "have you got your carry-on?"  "YES," Kelly rolls her eyes,  not realizing the foreshadowing of that statement.  We pull in to YVR at 1245hrs and unload the trunk.  Kelly has her two bags, Judy has her one, but Ron is standing with his carry-on, no check in bag to be found.  "Is that it?" he says.

And then the collective "OH SHIT".

"You have to go back.  Are we checking in?  We'll wait.  Are we waiting?  Fuck, go NOW."

So like a bat of of hell, Carl and Ron head back to the DeCaigny abode to pick up the poor forgotten check-in bag, still sitting on the couch.

And Kelly and Judy wait.  And wait.  "What do you want to do?"  "Wanna find a Starbucks?"
Kelly and Judy locate a Starbucks, sip a pumpkin spice latte, share a chocolate chip cookie, and in their heads decide how this is going to play out.  "We'll just leave tomorrow then.  We'll leave without him.  I don't want to be THAT asshole, the one who runs in, red-faced at the final boarding call, getting the stink eye from all the travellers who bothered to show up on time."

Kelly and Judy head back to the KLM check in desk and Kelly waits and cranes her neck to try and spot Ron.  Judy paces.  After what seemed like a DAY, Judy gives Kelly a thumbs up and Ron comes in with the poor bag in tow.  And in Raiders of the Lost Arc-type fashion, Kelly, Ron and Judy check in, check their baggage, sail through security and find their departure gate.  Which says "Air China".

"Oh shit.  Air China.  We're looking for KLM."
"That's next gate over", says friendly Air China steward.

We find the CORRECT gate with enough time for us to sit, use the washroom, Ron to mow down on an Oh Henry bar and for Kelly and Judy's blood pressure to go back to something normal.

After that whole fiasco, the flight was pretty uneventful.  We were are really impressed with KLM's service and food, as well as their goofy accents.  On the DeCaigny Airline Rating Scale, 1 being Air Canada and 5 being Singapore Air/Cathay Pacific, we give KLM a solid 4.

After 9 hours in the air (no sleep being had thanks to the air-witch in front of us, apparently wanting to inform the ENTIRE plane "DOES THIS JUICE HAVE ANY SUGAR IN IT" in the dead of quiet time) we arrive at the bright and colourful and maze-like Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, with enough time for Kelly and Ron to enjoy a Heineken on tap (much less skunky than its bottled variety).  We then board a bus, which takes us out to the tarmac to board our KLM City Hopper and get settled in to our seats, where Kelly promptly falls asleep.  An hour and 35 minutes later and apparently letting a 5 year old fly and land the plane, we arrive at the tiny Zagreb Airport (think Abbotsford).  Bags arrive safely, we get a cab driver and are on our way to our hotel, described as having "communist vibe, disinterested staff and overly perfumed rooms".  Our cab driver was apparently more angry about having 2 new stop lights put in than he was worried about safety, so he pretty much drove in whichever and however many lanes he felt like.

We arrive at Hotel Central on a dreary and rainy Croatian afternoon and check in to our super ugly hotel room.  Where Kelly promptly falls asleep.  Ron and Judy decide to head out to explore, but get as far as the train station across the street to buy a couple pastries as well as our train tickets for the next morning.  We eat our pastries, and Judy searches the bags for the plug adaptors.  When she finds them, she looks at the 5 adaptors, all of which have 3 prongs, and the sockets in the wall, all made for 2 prongs.  "It's always something," she says.