June 26, 2025
Venice to Victoria
Homeward Bound
Our British Airways flight was scheduled to leave Marco Polo Airport at 8:30 am, a very reasonable start time in the scheme of things. The taxi we'd reserved rolled up the driveway right on time at 6:15 am, and we were soon at the airport. It's just a kilometre from Venicegreen and, seeing it in the daylight, I can now understand why people sometimes walk to their accommodation from the airport.
Step Right Up
There's nothing quite so boring as waiting in line at an airport, whether it's for check-in and luggage drop, security screening, passport control or boarding. It's all hurry-up and wait. The lines today were short, yet long enough to entertain ourselves with people-watching and making luggage comparisons. I swear some passengers could fit inside their massive suitcases. What the heck would be that important to warrant lugging such a behemoth? Others tow several pieces of luggage and carry bags and backpacks, making me wonder how long and how far they are travelling.
The most interesting one today was a young woman who heaved her suitcase onto the scale, revealing a whopping 42kg of contents. The well-advertised limit is 23kg, and so began her unloading operation. What emerged from the suitcase was a mini-library of hardcover books. One, then another and another and another. She filled her arms with books and then up went the case again for a re-weigh. Nope, that only took it down to 36kg. After that, I think the cash came out, and she ended up paying for the booty she couldn't put in her carry-on.
Our main concern, which happens every time we check our luggage in, is whether the suitcases are within the 23kg limit. At home, we can check weight on the bathroom scale, but at the end of the trip, it's a guessing game. If one is overweight, we want it to be the first one so that we can transfer the offending item to the second case. Today, it all worked out. David had perfectly balanced the two cases, each one a scant 200g short of the limit.
We breathe easier once the bikes are on their way and we're left with our carry-on luggage. This time, however, carry-on luggage was being gate-checked since the flight was full. David gave up his case, and I was allowed to keep mine. Then we were off to Security, which went like clockwork and, just like that, we were on the hunt for breakfast. A cappuccino and croissant were the best we could manage since most businesses were not yet open. Chomp, chomp, chomp, slurp, gulp, slurp, and breakfast was done.
The next step in the process is determining the departure gate. These days, departure gates are in constant flux and aren't usually printed on boarding passes, so we wander and wait near the overhead screens, heads cocked up, waiting, waiting, waiting. When it comes up, we head to the gate where we gather with all the other cattle. More people-watching ensues, and then we board the plane. That's pretty well what we did, en route to London-Heathrow.
One point to consider when travelling to the UK is the new visa requirement. The British government implemented the ETA, or Electronic Travel Authorization, in 2025, and we'd been assured by the BA staff at YVR that we would not need one on that leg of the journey. I have since learned that if you hold a Canadian passport and something goes sideways that requires you to stay overnight in London, you will be allowed to stay at an airport hotel with proof of your next flight. As the chief Travel Agent for this trip, I'd been unable to answer this question, but now I know, and you do too.
The flight to LHR was uneventful, and there was no scenery to speak of, as much of Europe was covered in cloud. We pulled up to our gate at Terminal 5, British Airways' main terminal, and began our trek to Security and Passport Control. We breezed through both control points, and then the 5-hour layover began. The lounges at LHR require reservations, so that was out of the question. We wandered a bit, sat a lot, and found a decent restaurant for some lunch. Eventually, we boarded our plane, bound for YVR.
We pulled out of the gate on time, but the air traffic was so heavy, it was backed up over Iceland. Yes, Iceland! This was causing departure delays, so we joined the lineup of planes on the tarmac, inching our way to the number 1 spot on the runway. Planes were lined up every which way we looked. Eventually, at about 5:30 pm, it was our turn, and we were soon en route to Vancouver.
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We had a great flight crew on the BA flight. They plied us water, OJ, and cranberry juice, all accompanied by a smile and some light banter. I passed the 9 1/2-hour flight with movies, a meal, a little sleep, some journaling, and a bit of conversation with a fellow traveller.
The weather as we descended to YVR was abysmal, full-on rain and cloud, and it was a measly 12 degrees. We joked that we wanted to catch the next flight back to Italy.
Clearing Customs was fast and efficient, but my hopes of catching the 6 pm ferry melted away as we waited for the bikes and David's carry-on to emerge onto the conveyor belt at the luggage carousel. On the bright side, thanks to AirTags, we no longer wonder if our bikes made the flight. Once the bags were collected, we were off to get an Uber to take us to the 7 pm ferry at Tsawwassen. A good friend kindly met us at Swartz Bay and drove us home, where we re-united with our beloved four-legged, Tashi. She'd been in the care of our excellent house sitter, but was happy to see us, as we were to see her. She put on a show, doing hot laps around the yard, then we all hit the sack and sank into a much-needed deep sleep.
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