So here I am after a scary moment at the Ottawa
airport. The Air Canada agent refused to
allow me to board because he said I needed a visa to go to Dominica. I was dumb founded at his adement declaration. Smiling all the while, the little sh*t said
that the Dominicans had made a mistake on my passport, dating my resident
permit 2008 instead of 2018. True, but I
have been using this passport and this permit for 2 years with no problem. I
stamped my little foot, bared my teeth and gave him the evil eye as I loudly
announced that it is the Dominicans problem, not his. Time passed and I was now in danger of
missing my connecting flight. I was
prepared to drop my luggage (too heavy anyway) and make a dash for it when the
agent next to him told him to let me go. The rest of the trip was uneventful
but uncomfortable.
Some advice: go West
Jet to Barbados, not Air Canada to Antigua...then on to Dominica
What a relief to land in Dominica, to see McDowell and have
him take over and take me home.
A week later and I have settled back. Nothing has changed much. It is hot.
I have cleaned up the apartment. The
back garden became a jungle in my absence, the shelves in the shops are still
bare except for the essentials, day to day living is a struggle, but the internet now seems strong and reliable, and I have
seen my friends, Mait, Traci, Annika and the ladies in the market have heartily
welcomed me home.
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