Seattle, City of Rain. And that big needle thing. My time in Seattle was mostly confined to the room at the Springhill Suites, but I did manage to get out and about a little bit. I was pretty sick for most of the week, but we had a few days off between Seattle and Toronto, and this is when I did my exploring. Of course, this is also when I realized that my passport was safely stowed in a suitcase on a truck somewhere in the middle of Canada, instead of in my purse where it should have been. So, I spent lots of time on Monday and Tuesday freaking out and making phone calls and having documents FedEd-ed overnight to me, and basically ensuring that I would be able to get to Toronto and keep my job. I was assured by many different authorities at many different government and airline agencies that I should be just fine, so I did manage to squeeze in some fun. I went down to the market by the water, watched men throwing fish, and bought trinkets and local honey and donuts. I wanted to send some fresh salmon to my mother, but since the salmon cost $20 and the shipping was $80, I decided against it. I also went to a great restaurant on the other side of the water (bay?) from Seattle, called Salty's. Contrary to the image the name might conjure, it was actually quite a lovely place, with fantastic views and complimentary limo service. The fact that I felt well enough to enjoy the coconut prawns and white-chocolate mousse cake was a bonus.
So, armed with my birth certificate, a photocopy of my passport, a letter from my employers, and various other legal documents, I went confidently to the Seattle airport at 5am on Wednesday morning, only to be immediately denied a boarding pass by a cranky old battleaxe at United Airlines. Apparently, neither the Canadian nor the American government cared if I went into Canada without my passport, but this woman did. So, I was shuttled back and forth from United to Homeland Security to Horizon Airlines, I did a lot of crying and a lot of telling my story and a lot of big-eyed sorrowful gazing, and finally bought a new ticket on a new airline and landed myself on a teeny-tiny plane to Vancouver, where I caught my original connecting flight to Toronto, and around 11pm that night, landed safely at the Pantages hotel, exhausted but triumphant. My passport is now taped to the inside of my leg.
So, armed with my birth certificate, a photocopy of my passport, a letter from my employers, and various other legal documents, I went confidently to the Seattle airport at 5am on Wednesday morning, only to be immediately denied a boarding pass by a cranky old battleaxe at United Airlines. Apparently, neither the Canadian nor the American government cared if I went into Canada without my passport, but this woman did. So, I was shuttled back and forth from United to Homeland Security to Horizon Airlines, I did a lot of crying and a lot of telling my story and a lot of big-eyed sorrowful gazing, and finally bought a new ticket on a new airline and landed myself on a teeny-tiny plane to Vancouver, where I caught my original connecting flight to Toronto, and around 11pm that night, landed safely at the Pantages hotel, exhausted but triumphant. My passport is now taped to the inside of my leg.