The first time I set foot in Canada was at YVR: Vancouver Airport.
We had a layover en route to Winnipeg, Manitoba.
I was 8-years-old.
I remember getting off the plane and I was barely tall enough to see the giant posters on the wall, covered with advertisements about the Rockies.
I remember being so upset that there were no windows at the terminal (other than the ones overlooking the tarmac) because I wanted to see the mountains. (I realize now that you can’t actually see the Rockies from Vancouver, but hey, I was 8.) Continue reading “Chapter 2: Bright Lights, Big City, Raisins & 9-1-1”
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