"Landed"

I was in the car with Stefan on the way to London Heathrow. I hate London Heathrow. This must have been the 5th or 6th time I was in the car with Stefan on my way to or from a London airport. Thank GOD for Stefy!

The "June 2nd" date that had been scheduled since last July as my return to Vancouver had finally arrived. I had had that date imprinted in my brain for nearly a year. When I booked my plane ticket last summer, the travel agent needed to know two things: when did I need to arrive? And when did I need to return? Clueless as to what my needs would be an entire year away, I calculated my answers based on what I knew:

I finish work in Ghana at the end of February.
I don't want to go all the way to Africa without seeing some of the continent, but judgeing from my experience in Turkey, I'll probably be really ready to leave after 6 months.
Ando's in Morocco, but it's probably cheaper for me to fly there from London than from Accra.
Leanne may be in South Africa, but she's about as easy to keep track of as I am.
My mum wants to go to Italy.
Mary and Adam are getting married in Ireland at the end of May.
Paul's at Cambridge, Sandy's in Wales, Stefan and Amy are in Watford.
Anastasia's going to be in Sweden March-June.
It might be easier for me to find summer work in the UK than in Canada.

With all of this, I took my first step back into the unknown and booked a return from Heathrow to Vancouver for 2 June 2007, completely unsure as to how my year would transpire, not knowing where I'd actually be, who I'd be with, or even if I could afford any of this.

Plans started revealing themselves easily, and with little effort on my behalf, I accidently stumbled upon the best way ever to travel: all the comforts and stability of having the familiarity of close friends and family, with all the excitement of having new experiences and seeing new places.

In Ghana, I was constantly surrounded by the love and affection of my Ghanaian friends. Over the three months of travel since I left, I think I was away from old friends and family for only maybe 2 weeks in total, and even then, I usually met fantastic people along the way to enjoy some laughs [and beer!] with. I cannot imagine a better way to see the world -- innaugurating friends' guest bedrooms from South Africa to Morocco to Barcelona to London, with more friends and family flying across the world to join in the adventure.

But this wasn't just any plane today -- this was the plane. The plane that was going to take me "home". The plane that I didn't have another plane to connect with afterwards. The plane that would put all my suitcases and most of my possessions into one common city -- except a few items I have scattered around Toronto.

London Heathrow is a huge airport, and Terminal 4, where all the cross-Atlantic flights depart from and arrive to, is very far from all the other terminals. As we approached T4, Stefan saw a sign on the highway reading "As of June 1st, 2007, all British Airways Flights to Vancouver Leave from Terminal 1". What were the chances? There are two daily flights to Vancouver on British Airways. If they really wanted to make a dent in air traffic at Terminal 4, why not re-route all flights to...say...New York? Or Chicago? Why go to all this effort to re-route 2 bleeding flights per day???

But there it was, the writing was on the wall:
"Flights to Vancouver"
And it finally started to sink in: I'm going "home"!

What I completely forgot to factor in though, is that without a clear idea of exactly what I'm doing in Vancouver, not having any imminent employment opportunities there, plus a pending trip I'm making back east to de-brief with my boss and visit my TO and MTL crews, there will definitely be more flights and more packing. Etching return dates into my brain, breaking up my life into beginning-of-the-trip, and end-of-the-trip travel dates, is all just a game I'm playing with my head.

THERE WILL ALWAYS BE MORE FLIGHTS AND MORE PACKING.