It was snowing hard. Drifts were beginning to form. Sounds were muffled. It was nearly 4 a.m. on Sunday morning and we were waiting for Sam , our cab driver, to take us to the airport, where we would start our vacation to Cancun.
All the previous evening we had listened to reports of the approaching storm. Airports in the mid-west and north-east were gradually closing as the storm crept towards Ottawa.
We had been surprised to learn from our travel agent that travel insurance did not apply until a traveller checked in at the airport to start a trip. If we did not make it to the airport on time, we would lose the money we had paid for the trip and not get to visit Cancun. And as blind people, we could not drive ourselves. We were depending on Sam.
Then we heard the clink of chains and the roar of a powerful engine. Lights swung into our driveway. It was Sam. He was right on time, cheerful and confident as ever. “Not to worry”, he said. “We will make it.” He had put chains on his cab’s wheels. We all piled in and we were off, two guide dogs (Quincey and Luna) and three people hoping to escape the blizzard. Was there really sun and sand to be enjoyed? It was hard to believe.
Sam had the only car on the Queensway. The ploughs were not even out yet. Slow and easy was the order of the day. Sam’s steady hand kept the car moving around the snow drifts. Sure enough, 45 minutes later we were at the check-in counter of Canadian Airlines, showing our passports to a smiling agent who said he wished he were coming with us.
We were early enough to confirm that the seats assigned to us had enough space on the floor for the guide dogs. We had seats 2 D, E and F, which were in a row with more than 33 inches of lateral floor space for the dogs. Most rows have only 24 inches of foot room for each passenger, but our seats were right behind the clothes and luggage closet. A row of seats had been removed to make room for this closet, so there was extra space.
We had made it. Unfortunately 14 other passengers had not. The captain even waited 15 minutes, but finally left to stay ahead of a worsening storm that threatened to close the airport. We later found out that the missing passengers had also had trouble getting to the airport, and had had to fly later via Miami.
Once we landed, the Mexican immigration officer was surprised to see a furry head poked around the edge of his counter, but the Canadian Holidays representative was right there. She soon smoothed things out and we were on our way to the bus and the hotel, where we were assigned a room with a terrace for the dogs to relax on after the long flight.
There was the sand and sea, but where was the sun? It was cloudy and it would rain several times during our visit. But it was so warm that we were not depressed by the rain, especially when we remembered the blizzard.
After a quick meal from the grill in the court yard, we were off to the beach for a walk and then to the pool to rest the afternoon away. At the pool, a few security guards tried to shoo the dogs away, but the guards retreated amid a barrage of comments from other guests indignant at the treatment. We soon got to know many of our fellow visitors. We joined a party from Quebec for supper in the Italian restaurant. It was a joyous evening and we soon found ourselves with them for most of the week.
We had booked an all-inclusive vacation. We did not plan to do much. Days and nights slipped into a pleasant routine of tacos and refried beans for breakfast, mornings at the pool and afternoons on the beach. Evenings were spent with our new friends from Quebec at one of the three restaurants on the property, discussing the day’s happenings over wine and good food. We were all part of a happy-go-lucky group, which gathered around the dinner table every evening and which included an air-conditioning specialist, a magazine publisher and government workers.
Soon our daughter, Chantal, began receiving little delicacies. We all chuckled at the flowers and fancy napkins. Paco, a local boy, shyly told her he liked her. For the rest of the week he seemed to be working at the very restaurant we had reserved for the evening meal and he always managed to serve our table, to the amusement of all and the embarrassment of Chantal.
One day, we all chartered a boat and sailed off to Isle Moheras for snorkelling, swimming and sun. Quincey went in the water once, but Luna would have none of it. Swimming off a boat was not for her. She watched with amusement as the rest of us splashed about the small ship. The only thing we missed was a diving trip.
Riding the buses was no problem for us. Far from being bothered by dogs, the local citizens brought their chickens and other small livestock onto the buses every day. The local shopping malls were another matter. These malls were new and fancy, just like those in Canada. The only Mexican character to these shopping malls were the security guards. When we arrived at the entrance of a mall several security guards would run up wildly gesturing and authoritatively proclaiming, “No perros! No perros!”
We were ready for this, however. Before leaving Canada, we had visited the Mexican Embassy and asked for a letter permitting our dogs in public places, since Mexico does not have laws guaranteeing access for guide dogs and their users. We whipped out this letter , with its gold flecked letterhead, impressive signature and stamps , for inspection by the security guards. Miraculously, the stern gun-toting guards became all smiles and loudly proclaimed, “Si perro! Si perro!” We went happily on our way to spend our money on Mexican blankets, jewellery and liquor, just like all the other tourists.
All too soon it was time to go home and we found ourselves in the lobby bidding goodbye to all our new friends. Our bus arrived. We went down the stairs to board the coach with final good wishes ringing in our ears.
We arrived at the airport and, unfortunately, our plane was on time. We were soon sitting on the apron waiting for clearance to take off from Cancun for Canada. It was a bit of a surprise when a cabin staff member offered us Braille and large-print safety cards to read while we waited to leave Cancun. This bit of Canadian hospitality from Canadian Airlines made the snow waiting for us back home seem not so bad after all.