As I write this, we all should be high in the air, cruising steadily over northeast Canada, gin & tonic in my hand, champagne in Karen's, flight attendants at our beck and call, Sadie & Parker gently sleeping and anticipating the coming reunion with dear ones...
...instead we're back on Eton Avenue, £100 of cab fare poorer and surrounded by snowdrifts. Ok, it doesn't take much to make a "snowdrift" in the UK, and for a Buffalo girl like Karen it is laughable that they cancelled our flight when there was hardly any snow on the ground and not much coming down either. By the time we returned home following a 4 hour odyssey it had picked up a bit, and our street as seen in the photo certainly did have a charming winter wonderland look to it. But the 3cm snow limit for any flight does seem rather absurd.
We were even interviewed and photographed for the Telegraph... now photo made it in although a brief quote made it onto the website...
As did some other remarkable information about just how little it takes to cause transport chaos!
Not quite sure when we'll actually get out of here. Perhaps tomorrow if the Blizzard of 2010 relents a little.
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