Two weeks notice

It's official; I'm leaving the North.

I have my ticket, and in two weeks' time I will be back home in the south.

Permanently.

As I mentioned a few posts ago, this moment has been coming for a while now, but yesterday I finally confirmed my intentions with the powers that be and today I received my travel itinerary. Most things happen very slowly in the North, but in my life events are now moving on apace. The number of teaching days that remain are in single digits - so even I can count them on my fingers - and just two weekends sit between me and my final flight.

I know I'm going to be feeling some mixed emotions over the coming days - in fact I'm already feeling them - but I'm glad to have finally made an irrevocable decision and I know in my heart that it's the right one. I've said before in these pages that my time in the North has changed my outlook on life, and whilst I really do believe that my experience has been largely positive, I also feel that the misanthrope inside me is edging ever nearer the surface, especially this year, and that can't be a good thing.

Consequently, my repatriation to the south, and to Melanie in particular, is coming just at the right time I think, and as much as I'm going to be looking back over the next few weeks, now is really a time to be looking forward. There will be many changes ahead and all the routines I've established will need to be broken, but it's all for the greater good.

The countdown has begun...

Weekend at Curt's

You just couldn't write this (although, in actual fact, someone already did, sort of). Do you remember the film Weekend At Bernie's? If not, it was about two young guys who, for reasons I won't go into now, carry their dead boss around with them for the weekend in an effort to convince everyone else that he's still alive.

Well, it would seem that two women in Liverpool have tried to recreate said movie with the deceased husband of one of them as the reluctant star. The widow and step-daughter of 91-year-old Curt Jarant tried to take poor Curt onto a flight to Berlin with them last weekend, and when they were questioned about his somewhat limp demeanour they claimed that Curt, who was wearing sunglasses and was in a wheelchair, was merely 'asleep.'

"A dead person you cannot carry to Germany, there are too many people checking and security. How can you bring a dead person to Germany?" claimed Ms Anke Anusic, Curt's step-daughter. She then went on to add: "They would think that for 24 hours we would carry a dead person? This is ridiculous. He was moving, he was breathing. Eight people saw him."

Eight people. Not seven, or nine, but eight. And, as Ms Anusic quite rightly points out, the absurdity of taking a dead person to Germany; unbelievable! Austria maybe, perhaps the Republic of Macedonia or maybe even France on a Friday afternoon but Germany? Who would try such a thing?

The case continues, and in the meantime Curt remains unclaimed on the baggage carousel along with a Gola sports bag and a purple suitcase with a yellow ribbon attached to the handle.

Four of our boxes are missing

Melanie finally arrived safely last night, the only hitch in her journey being a two hour delay in Kuujjuaq due to a missing plane. Well, it wasn't really missing as such, more a question of being in the wrong place, but it was eventually located and Melanie was able to make the last leg of her journey without further hindrance.

The same can't be said of the boxes of food that should have been accompanying her though, which are now somewhere in transit between Montreal and Kangiqsujuaq. We have already started playing phone tag and who knows, the boxes might arrive before Melanie has to leave at the end of next week. That won't be a problem as far as the dried goods and cans are concerned, but I'm not sure how the milk is going to fare.

Good job we like yogurt.

Keeping a weather eye open

As I have mentioned before in these pages, the morning routine in these parts usually involves looking out the window and thinking 'please let there be a blizzard', but not today. Melanie is on March break at the moment, and as I type at breakfast time she is quite literally on her way up to see me! We've only had two snow days since I've been in Kangiqsujuaq, one of which was when I attempted to fly home at Christmas, and I shall be keeping my fingers crossed that we don't get our third today.

Melanie's not been back to the North since she left Inukjuak in 2007, and it will be very interesting for her to be able to compare her experience there with life in this particular northern town, as both the geography and the inhabitants are quite different here. She's also bringing up a few boxes of food with her, which will hopefully be enough to see me through until the end of my time here in May. One downside of her visit is that I've had to clean the house, but I guess that's a small price to pay for Melanie and food!

At the moment it's a bit misty but generally calm outside, although I've just seen on the forecast that the wind is meant to pick up both here and in Kuujjuaq later today. It shouldn't be enough to stop the planes from flying but fingers will remain firmly crossed, and hopefully my next posting will contain news of Melanie's (and the food's) safe arrival.

Back to work

I'm now back in Kangiqsujuaq, where it's only marginally colder than in the UK (-26 at the time of writing) and although my journey was relatively uneventful, especially compared to the one I made before Christmas, First Air managed to leave my suitcase in Montreal, along with the baggage of many of the other passengers on my flight. It's often a case of cargo or passengers in the North, as opposed to cargo and, but at least I didn't have too many essentials in my case and I can get by until it arrives.

Seeing as half my students haven't yet returned I made today into an unofficial ped day for myself, but it should be back to business as usual tomorrow, or at least as usual as you can expect in these parts. It's always interesting to see just who does and who doesn't return after the Christmas break, both in terms of students and staff, and I know that the school is at least one teacher down due to the fact that the chap who was meant to be replacing my erstwhile neighbour James, who is now on paternity leave, has not shown up.

So, if anyone fancies coming up to teach some Social Studies and Math for the next two or three months, there's a classroom waiting for you...

Almost home

I'm writing this courtesy of the wi-fi service at the Via Rail station in Montreal, which means that I'm almost, repeat almost, home. After a hugely frustrating 48 hours I'm not counting any chickens though.

I managed to get to Kuujjuaq yesterday where, as I mentioned before, I was on standby for Montreal. Happily First Air got me on board the Montreal flight, but after two hours waiting on the tarmac, those of us who had been on standby were asked to raise their hands. Oh dear...this didn't look good.

And indeed it wasn't. The flight was going to stop in Iqaluit first - check your atlas to see how little sense this route makes - where we would take on more passengers, and there was a chance that the 'standbyers' would be asked to leave the plane and be forced to remain in Iqaluit. When I asked what was meant by a 'chance' I couldn't be given a precise answer, which was a little worrying given that planes have a finite number of seats so, given that the next flight out of Iqaluit was not until Monday, I decided to get off.

After a night in the Co-op hotel in Kuujjuaq and a further six hours waiting at the airport I finally got my flight, and here I am, waiting for my train. I shall be so glad to get home and get clean - I've travelled light on this trip so no changes of clothes - but I shall also be sparing a thought for my teaching friends and colleagues back up in Kangiqsujuaq, who were unable to leave today because of the weather. I have every sympathy and I know how they feel, and I can only hope that they will make it back in time for Christmas.

As for me, the holiday now begins, and for once I think I've earned it. Tims here I come...

Grounded

Big.

Huge.

Blizzard.

I'm still in Kangiqsujuaq. Full-on blizzard all day today so no flights anywhere. Had to go to the airport nonetheless as flights are rarely cancelled until the last minute up here, and the drive there was a very interesting experience. Roland was at the wheel and quite how he got us there I will never know; you literally could not see five feet in front of you for much of the journey.

I'm now booked on a flight for tomorrow which will get me to Kuujjuaq, but I'm then only on standby to Montreal and there are six people ahead of me on the waiting list, so I look like facing an overnight stop somewhere in Nunavik's capital-in-waiting. However, maybe the weather will mean that some other people won't make their connecting flights tomorrow, and this might sneak me on board; we shall have to wait and see.

Until then I remain hunkered down in Kangiqsujuaq, and with the wind still howling and my house still shaking I'm beginning to wonder if we'll actually fly tomorrow morning at all. But let's not go there, unless 'there' is actually home, in which case then we will go, thank you.

More news tomorrow (maybe)...

Taking flight

Well, all things being equal I fly home tomorrow (the 17th), which is also the same date that the Wright Brothers made their first flight back in 1903. I just hope that my flight lasts a little bit longer than theirs.

As as I write the weather forecast for tomorrow is not encouraging though, and if we do fly it looks as though it will be a bumpy ride. This time last year we were grounded by mechanical failure rather than the weather and I don't want a repeat of those frustrations again, but there's no use in fretting over things that are out of my control. So I shall think positively, and hopefully my next posting will come from south of the tree line.

Christmas top 10 (part three)

Well, I've just completed my last day of teaching before the holiday, and in 48 hours time I shall be in the middle of my flight back home (or at least to Montreal). I let my students watch a movie today, but in retrospect 'Alive' probably wasn't the best choice. At least we now all know what to do if the plane goes down en route on Thursday. We just need to find a Uruguayan rugby team to help us and all will be fine.

Now back to the serious matter of our Christmas top 10. When last we looked in the countdown had reached number 7, so today I present to you numbers 6 and 5:

6. Slade - Merry Xmas Everybody (1973)
The only time I will ever write 'Xmas' rather than 'Christmas' because that's how it's spelt in the title (although I realise that I've now written Xmas twice...damn - now it's three; this could go on for some time if we're not careful). I always think of my first Christmas teaching at MK Prep back in the UK when I hear this song. The music teacher (not you Barry, it was the one before you and Mr G!) got the choir to sing it at the big Christmas concert, and I have this abiding memory of a mass of angelic little faces singing the lines:

Does he ride a red nosed reindeer?
Does a ton-up on his sleigh
Do the fairies keep him sober for a day?

Everybody now: IT'S CHRIIIIIIIISTMAAAAAAAAAS!




5. Chris Rea - Driving Home For Christmas (1988)
A tune that always reminds me of the times when I actually did drive home for Christmas: Bedford to Corfe Mullen via Milton Keynes, Buckingham, Bicester, Oxford, Newbury, Winchester and Ringwood. Now I travel from Kangiqsujuaq to Gananoque with stops in Quaqtaq, Kangirsuk, Kuujjuaq, Montreal and Kingston. How times change. For the better? Probably, but at this time of year I wish I could be making the former journey rather than the latter. Maybe next year...

The final curtain (part two)

The remainder of my journey from Montreal to Kingston was 'interesting'. Firstly, the flight goes via Toronto which, if you know your Canadian geography, is somewhat convoluted in itself. Getting to Toronto was fine, but we were then held up for an hour or so by a rather spectacular thunderstorm which deposited so much hail on the ground that it looked like we were back in the frozen North once again.

Eventually the flight left though, and I have to say that I have never been on a smaller plane than this one. There were just 18 seats, nine on each side, and there wasn't even a door to the cockpit. The pilots merely drew a curtain across during take-off and landing, and let us watch them at work during the rest of the flight. Quite what they were doing during take-off and landing that we weren't allowed to see I just don't know, but as long as it didn't involve reading the first and last chapters of Flying For Dummies, then I don't really care.

After a flight that I will simply describe as 'turbulent,' it was a relief to make it back to solid ground, and I now have a little insight as to why the Pope always kisses the ground after his plane lands. Mind you, he does have a direct line to the man upstairs if his flight ever gets into trouble, so I don't really know why he's always so relieved. Maybe God intended to take his pilot's exam on the seventh day, but was just too tired after the hard week he'd had.

But I digest.

The rest of my week has revolved mainly around sleep, paperwork and Tim Horton's, although today I did spend the day at the school in Kingston where I used to teach, Maplecrest-Sempar, which enabled me to catch up with a few old friends as well as develop a lovely head cold as a result of a day's exposure to the grass and pollen which simply doesn't exist in the North. At least I think it's just a cold...

Little has changed on the job front since I last wrote, but I am hopeful of a resolution in the next couple of weeks, so watch this space for details. In the meantime I am now settling in to my new role as man of leisure, although I have to say that part of me does miss my life in a Northern town. I guess I ought to rename the blog now that I'm back home, but I suppose Canada is still pretty northern wherever you are within its borders, so I'll keep it as it is for the time being. I intend to keep the blog going over the summer, although how often I post I can't say yet; depends what shenanigans I get up to, I suppose. Keep checking in though, otherwise I shall get lonely.

Until next time...

Home!

Well, I finally made it! Our flight left at around 11am, we went straight through to Montreal (only three hours!), and then I managed to catch a lift with Stephanie and her dad, whose route home to Trenton took them down the 401 and right past our house. Result! No Snowmageddon, and no need for Bruce Willis.

It's great to see Melanie again after four months, and she's certainly made the apartment look very Christmassy; our balcony has more lights than all the other condos combined! It's also wonderful to have proper internet again - we have the cheapest service here, but it's greased lightning compared to 'Shatner-net'!

Just in case I was missing the North though, it's currently -18°C here, and it's forecast to be -27° with windchill tomorrow. Oh, and there's a snowfall warning in effect too. It won't stop me getting my Tim's though.

Bliss!

No fly zone

Damn, damn and thrice damn; my flight has been cancelled.

Not because of the weather, mind you, but because of 'mechanical problems.' What's worse, I just had to go to the airport to collect my now redundant ticket, in order that I can mail it to the School Board so that they can use it to get a refund from Air Inuit. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the stage where I collect the ticket and mail it to the Board (so that they can then presumably mail it back to Air Inuit) a little pointless? Don't ask!

I'm now scheduled to fly tomorrow morning instead, arriving in Montreal around 4pm. From there I will then slum it in the coach to Kingston, rather than the more-executive-but-convoluted-via-Toronto plane. Weather Forecasters are already dubbing Sunday as 'Snowmageddon' in the Toronto region, and seeing as Sunday is when I'd now be flying to and from there, I think it prudent to avoid the area.

So, I now have to unpack and spend another night in Inukjuak, not that that's too bad I guess. I just hope that Snowmageddon doesn't make it's way up here, but if it does I have Bruce Willis' number on speed dial. He'll make 800 feet; he doesn't know how to fail.