Wrapping up my stories of each Canadian city I visited during my seven day sprint across the country:
Wait, why am I in Edmonton?
Was I supposed to be in Edmonton?
Why is there even a flight between Edmonton and Calgary? The flight attendant sprints down the aisle, sliding cups of juice at us in the few minutes we're level in the air before we make the descent again. There isn't even enough time to make a cup of coffee. This is one of the most irritating layovers for me, except maybe the Ottawa to Montreal flight. That's even shorter.
