The story so far… last post dealt with the fact I could not figure out seats between Troy and I, and I will deal with this issue later on. So here in Boston day 3, and the story to date. My day started off at 5am to catch my 7.20 flight. My first mistake was not remembering that the flight was Calgary to Montreal, a domestic flight, so I could have been even later at the airport. No harm done, off I go to get some food.

It being 6.15am, the only real choice I had was to have a Caesar  with my eggs Benedict and a hot chocolate with baileys. All this time I am trying to figure out where Troy is, as he is prompt and punctual. As the time approached closer and closer to departure, there was still a complete lack of Troy. I boarded, took off and off I went to Montreal. Notable movie on the flight Amal, not so notable, The Happening. I only managed to see about 2/3 of it, as I was tired and didn’t have the attention span to read at that time. In Montreal I discover that Troy is at the airport, looking for me. By this point all of the traveling arrangement are really beginning to be suspicious. I grab my bag, walk through US customs and begin my 30 minute wait for the flight to Boston. After sitting for 15 minutes I have an epiphany and realize I left the other suite case on the other side of customs. My inquires to Air Canada customer service go poorly, yet well. I was informed that it was too late to get it in time and that it would be on the next flight to Boston. “Great!” I thought to myself, Troy is on that flight and he will be able to grab it. So I text him and inform him of his new travel companion. I board the flight, pass out and land. The speed at which my bag arrived on the carousel was legendary, and now it was time for me to make my way to the hotel via mass transit.  After figuring out the ticket dispenser, catching the bus with a very unique black bus driver, off I went. The Boston mass transit system is easy to use, a little run down, but over all very good, except for one little initial confusing part. The Green Line I took forks out into 4 separate lines, lucky for me I noticed in time, jumped off and took the next train to my destination. With more horse hoes up my ass, I walk out of the metro right to the street where the hotel is, take a left and voila, here I am. Getting my room (and changing it as it was the wrong size) Ray and I come up with an explanation for the whole Troy thing. I screwed up my ticket. This was do to me not leaving until Saturday, and that bumped the departure hour around, and I didn’t check close enough. Luckily because of this, I was able to get to the hotel early enough to still have reception open (as it does close do to the nature of said hotel), and fix our accommodations. Troy arrived a number of hours later, having his own taxi adventures, with no suite case and to bed we went.

Day 2.

Apparently US customs would not allow the lots suite case to be taken aboard the flight with out one of us carrying. So thus said suite case was once again MIA. Off we went to begin setting up.

About one hour later…

The people next to us had only half of their booth arrive, we were sympathetic from our experience in Anaheim a few years earlier. The best part is they were Canadian, and we hit it off. The rest of the day Troy and I spent walking around Boston, taking a Duck Tour and doing more walking.

Eating dinner at Charlestown oldest pub (with probably the best fish and chips I have ever had), and taking a train back. There Troy took out his Wii, and a bunch of booze we bought and ended up playing Mario Cart for a few hours.

Here is something interesting, I was checking-in Troy and I to for our flight to Boston in the morning. I was trying to have us sit together, but each time I switched the traveler, the seat selection seemed to change entirely too much. So I opened up Firefox as well as Internet Explorer and did a side by side comparison of seat availability between us. The fact that I have more seat available to me is not suspiring, as I have an Aeroplan number with close to 40k points (not that much I know, but still more then your average traveler). What I did find interesting is that he had seats available to him that I did not. This I don’t understand…

http://www.housemajor.com/gallery

My real name is Henry Jakl. I was born September 21, 1979 in the Czech Republic, in Opocno. My mothers name is Emily and my Father’s is Henry as well, and so is his grandfather. They were about 22/23 when they had me. All I can think is what were they thinking… having a kid at that age, but they did justify by telling me that under communist rule the only way you could get an apartment easily you needed a child. So, well, here I am. The above picture is taken at my second birthday. I lived in a town called Rychnov nad Knezno. I went to kinder garden there and finished my first year of school. My father was a boiler technician in a large central heating plant and my mother was a teacher in a post secondary school teaching Russian, Czech and gym. Later on my dad got offered a promotion and we moved to Ceska Lipa where once again he worked in a large central heating plant. I spent allot of my summers outside with my grandparents or with my mom. My grandparents own a cottage next to a large resovrore. That’s where I did my first kayaking. Thanks dad. 🙂 But alls good now. Yes it was a traumatic experience, but if it doesn’t kill you it makes you stronger… right? Well, we went to Yugoslavia in 1987 for a two week vacation at the beginning of September. We were more to the north on the coast where is was absolutely beautiful. This was the second time I was there, and from what I can remember and from the pictures my dad took, it was very, very nice. From there we went to Austria as political refuges. I began school there once again; my father did some small jobs and my mother helped around the place we were staying at (a almost looking hotel where people took refugeesuntil they were accepted by a country and allowed to emigrate). Then we ended up in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. They were desperate for people so this was the only place they would accept us. The sheer size of the country was amazing! So Once again I began school and my parents began to take English school. We stayed in Saskatoon for about 6 months. We took a trip to Calgary one day, and my father found a job and we moved here soon after. And well, here we are. So now it’s about 1989, my father is working hard and our family is began to prosper. And well, here I am now.