Ottawa Train Station
Being that I am more antsy than practical I arrived here 2 full hours before my train arrives. I was half-expecting a European-style bustle here and a rush to catch my train. But no. I have instead Canadian-style polite waiting. Also the earliness was due to bus connections. i haven’t been able to make a one since getting here so I wanted to allow time to make up for getting lost/missing busses, etc.
(Shoot. Just remembered I was going to steal some fruit from the B&B. Damn.) (And there’s no food yet for sale at the shop to my right. I can see right inside: empty deli cases.)
The dude who processed my reservation print-out was totally bored. I didn’t laugh or anything as he took my papers (my reservation confirmation that was e-mailed to me was handed over to be replaced with an actual card-stock paper ticket.) All slouching in his suit uniform, elbows on desk in front of him.
(Now there are a couple of Asian girls in the cafe– and I think I see a bottle of milk? I am so sick of food.)
I do not like lugging around both my backpack and suitcase. If it were one or the other it would be better– and preferably the one with wheels. There’s a young woman now with a bigger suitcase than I and 2 other bags. I’m going to see how she deals. I think she just left them all at a table before going into the cafe. I should go steal them.
Now there are people sitting across from me and are probably looking at me. I hate that. I hope they can’t read my mind. Oh. They’re French so they wouldn’t be able to understand me anyway. Oh no! The kid knows both languages and is now laughing at me. Maybe I should move or go get a panini. Paninis make me nervous, though, if the bread is milky. I think that’s what I had at Boston Pizza that time in Vic with Mum, Jordan, Bonnie and Michael? Too many funny words for “sandwich”.