Home – maybe – YVR


Home – maybe
Vancouver, Canada

Vancouver, Canada

Stephen King was here!

We have just finished a lovely few weeks in Canada with David, Kirsty and the grandies and we’re heading home. Vancouver airport, or YVR to its friends, is like part of the family. It’s been a welcome sight when we arrive and a reminder when we leave that, hey, we’ll be back before you know it. It’s also the site of the ritual first and last Tim Horton’s coffees that act as a kind of caffeinated bookends for our trips.

But, what’s this got to do with Stephen King? Well, back in 1990, SK wrote a short novel called the Langoliers. In the story, a small group of people wake up on a plane to find themselves all alone. They manage to land but the whole airport is desolate and deserted. In the end, it is all some sort of bizarre time warp thing.

Back now to YVR. We also are experiencing a time warp. It all starts at check-in. There are only two guys behind the desk, and almost no passengers waiting. The guys tell us that they opened three hours early – yeah right! Then it’s through the door to security. Again, only a couple of people screening passengers nominally travelling to multiple destinations across the world. Then it gets weird.

We have to find gate D49. There’s a sign pointing down a dusty corridor, which leads, you guessed it, to another sign. We follow that sign and enter another corridor with big posters saying ALL VISITORS MUST REPORT TO THE SITE OFFICE. A smaller sign points us down yet another corridor. After about twenty minutes and ten more detours we finally reach a boarding area lifted straight from the 1960’s. I picture the conversation between the Air Canada executives and the airport owners. “That’s way too much for a spot in the main terminal. Don’t you have anything cheaper?” “Wellll – we do have the old …….”

Anyways (as the say in Canada), we’re here. All the flight announcements are for domestic flights to places like Yellow Moose Creek, but we’re hopeful that we are sort of close enough to find the right plane. Next time we should take the bus.


Maybe Stephen King had it right

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