Tuesday night – Packing in Salvador

On Tuesday night, I took my pair of jeans out of my backpack and tried them on for the first time in three months.

Phew, still fits.

I would need it. I put it on the table along with my sweater, and I started packing. End-of-trip packing isn’t as stressful as daily travel packing—it mostly revolves around reorganizing for the next destination and getting rid of almost empty bottles of shampoo, sunscreen, etc.  

“There’s an ice storm coming,” Feng announced when he called me. “In April!”

“Shit. When it is starting?”

“Tomorrow morning. Lucky you’re not flying back to Canada, you would have been stuck. Good instincts! How is your protest thing going?”

“Still on. It should be okay, I don’t think my flight is cancelled.”

Instead of flying back to Canada, I was flying to France, and as you may or may not know, France has been protesting over pension reforms for a few months now. The 11^th national strike and protest day was scheduled for April 6, the day I was landing in Paris.

It’s okay. I can handle flight delays and French protests.

Yet another Canadian weather event, probably not…

Wednesday – Air Portugal TP22 Salvador to Lisbon

My flight was at 10:55 p.m., so I was ready for one of the endless travel days wasted waiting in various uninspiring places.

My Airbnb host kindly let me stay in the apartment until 4 p.m. It was stormy in Salvador, so I didn’t do much except go to the padaria one last time to buy bread. I made sandwiches for the flight, took another shower, changed into my jeans and called a 99.

Good thing I left early, it took about 90 minutes to get to the airport.

The waiting game started. I waited to drop off my bag at the TAP counter, then I waited to go through security, then at border control…

“Lost Internet because of the storm. Will try to call from cell phone.”

“I’ll be at the gate in twenty minutes, going through border control now,” I texted back. “Are you OK?”

“We’re OK. Not sure about the city…”

It was one hell of a storm in Ottawa. Mark didn’t go to school, the guys still had power but no Internet. They could see fallen trees outside.  

This was my first time flying TAP and I was pleasantly surprised. The aircraft was comfortable, with plenty of legroom. Dinner was served and we had real metal cutlery, something I haven’t seen in ages. The only downside was my seat. It was a 2-4-2 configuration and I was stuck in the middle next to a Swiss girl and a Brazilian guy who kept on falling asleep on me.

Overall, it was a really good experience. After this winter trip, I will avoid Avianca, but TAP is on my good airlines list.

Thursday – Air Portugal TP432 Lisbon to Paris

We landed in Lisbon on time at 11:10 a.m. My flight to Paris was at 3:30 p.m. so I decided to go outside for a bit. I went through immigration, entering with my French passport.

“I live in Canada,” I explained, “but it makes more sense to use my EU passport.”

“Of course it does,” he replied in perfect French. “You’re European, you’re one of us. Welcome back!”

Lisbon airport is pretty big and it was packed with travellers from all over Europe—Spanish speaking Spanish louder than usual and wondering why Portuguese people still didn’t understand them, lost and confused Belgian tourists, French buying cheap Portuguese cigarettes, tall blond German wearing Birkenstock… it’s like we had all decided to be European stereotypes.

And of course, since it’s Europe, you could smoke in designated areas inside the airport.

The weather was lovely in Portugal, 26⁰C and blue sky. It felt like a smaller version of Brazil, with tiny palm trees and good-natured people. I kind of fell in love with Portugal, I’d love to explore the country one day…

I’m amazed at how smooth everything was at the airport. I got used to chaos in Canadian airports the past few years, but here everything was efficient and everybody was friendly.

I eventually boarded my last flight to Paris, but we got stuck on the tarmac for a while because of the protests over there, or maybe a strike in Orly. I texted my brother who was picking me up.

I only landed at 9 p.m. instead of 7 p.m.

We took the tramway and the metro to his place and we there around 10:30 p.m. I went out to call Feng and Mark and I bumped into the end of a protest Avenue d’Italie.

“Still no power in the neighbourhood, Mark’s school is closed. How is Paris?”

“Hold on, gonna run… tear gas and something burning over there.”

“But it’s midnight!”

“Almost over, no worries.”

It was a short night, I was taking the 7:41 a.m. train to Nantes the next morning…

Friday – Train to Nantes

I only managed to sleep two hours at my brother’s place but I had a lovely dinner of Vietnamese bo bun, bread and butter, and French pastries.

I got up at 6 a.m., somehow found my way to the subway station—I remembered it from my time in Paris during the pandemic—and headed to Montparnasse.

It was chilly and dark and I couldn’t wait to pass out on the train but somehow, I couldn’t sleep once I sat down. Instead, I watched the scenery go by—the outskirts of Paris, then green fields and small villages lost in the early morning fog.

My mum was waiting for me at the train station, the first time in months someone was waiting for me somewhere.

Brazil to France, made it!

Now I need to rest…

Meanwhile, in Canada…