Return Home.

One final day of travel and then it's home again. The morning finds me up early, piling the last pieces of clothing into my pack, my toothbrush and socks. Lesley and I enjoy a long chat over bowls of cantaloup and chocolate chip buns, and finish up last night's dishes. Can't head back home and leave a pile of dishes in the kitchen, now can I? Then it's off, Lesley and James and Abbott and I, all in the car together, heading towards the airport. Then it's really goodbye, hugs and hugs, and I'm already missing them as I head into the terminal at the San Jose airport. And they drive away.

I like San Jose. It's quiet - I fly through check-in AND security in no more that 10 minutes. Then I wander the hallways of the terminal, browsing through the duty-free shops, turning my nose up at the perfumes, looking for all the flavours of M&M's. I find a small square of astro-turf with one lonely hydrant - a sad attempt at a dog relief station. I grab a snack before boarding, a bagel piled with egg, avocado, bacon and tomato, since I can't seem to get enough of the green stuff while still in California. Then it's on the plane, and into my seat, and into the air, heading out to Minneapolis. I watch the Crimes of Grindelwald, and barely reach the credits when we touch down - it was a good flight.

In MSP, I walk the length of the airport and back again, and still have 3 hours to waste. I decide to try a Smashburger, and find a pseudo-cinema with long bench seats, playing a series of short film made by local artists or about local stories. Two hours pass by so fast, and the films are really good, and my burger is tasty, and I am happy. Finally, it's time to board: onto the plane, and into my seat, and into the air, heading out of Minneapolis and home again. Montreal. Where Mario's smiling face will be there to greet me when I land, and I'll be able to tell him all of the stories. Travel is nice, but it's always nice to come home again.

Until next time.