Dwayne and I had not yet been together for a year when we decided we would embark upon what we now call our "trip of a lifetime". For months we planned, daydreamed and talked about our first flight. First class or coach? From Edmonton or Calgary? What was more direct - via Frankfurt or through London? Research was done, costs were analyzed, time-tables consulted, decisions were made. We were headed to Europe and a three week excursion that would include stops in Monte Carlo, Florence, Rome and Paris - the romance tour of Europe with the love of my life.
It seemed while we were busy making plans to explore Europe together, the universe was busy making other plans. Those plans included an unscheduled flight via air ambulance from Jasper to Edmonton where Dwayne had emergency surgery for a collapsed lung brought on by an undiagnosed pnemonia mere weeks before our planned vacation.
I have flown a lot in my lifetime...aboard floatplanes, jets, helicopters & even the Concorde once. But no flight was more memorable to me than flying over the Rockies, east toward Edmonton with my dear, sick, Dwayne strapped onto a gurney in the back. We have laughed a lot since that trip that we never imagined our first plane ride together would be in a rickety old tub, held together with not much more than spit and a couple of bolts.
While that excursion was one of the most scary ones I've ever taken, ultimately, three short weeks later we were able to board our flight to Nice. Dwayne was on the mend, we were in love and we had three weeks without any cares in the world. Enroute to the Calgary airport we stopped at a local burger joint for one last meal before boarding. Tagged on the side of Dwayne's drink: "T'as du gout." Life is good. It sure was.
