After our lunch visit to Cantacuzino Castle, we were brought to the Qosmo Hotel in Brasov. It is a sleek and extremely modern hotel. But it was also a technological zoo. We marvelled at all the technological innovations in our room like we might look at foreign creatures in zoo.  They were deeply perplexing.

When I opened my computer, a shocking event occurred.  Unbeknownst to me, Christiane’s computer got a message that John Neufeld was trying to join her personal hotspot. That sounded pretty racy. Then I was quickly deflated, as I got a message that there was a failure to join Christiane Neufeld’s hotspot.  This was getting serious. What was wrong? Were our personal connections in peril? Was our relationship lost?

Thankfully, after some complex maneuvering on my computer which I barely understood at all, I connected to her hotspot.  Life was fun again. Order was re-established and marital relations no longer in jeopardy. Whew!  That was a close call. No, it wasn’t a close enough call. Clearly international travel in the time of computer networks, hotspots, nuclear free zones, and the like, requires intricate diplomacy, tact, and a willingness to try new things and new positions. This could get exciting. Or not. I will leave the rest to your imaginations.

As if that was not exciting enough, we had to learn how to operate a hotel room with an array of modern hi-tech facilities and conveniences, unlike anything I had ever seen before.  I mean really modern. For example, how do you use the washroom facilities when then there is large window to the next room and from that to the great outdoors. Who wants to watch an old man take a shower? Or other personal business?  Not many.

We had to figure out how to close the curtains on the shower window?  Why would the shower have a huge window in the first place?  Later one of our friends said the window must be so that the occupant of the bathroom  can give the co-occupant “a show.”  Was that what we were supposed to do?

Then how do you put the lights on. Sounds simple right? No, it’s not simple. It’s fiendishly complex. The light switch is not anything recognizable to an ordinary citizen of most western cities.  My mind was boggled. How can Romania be so far ahead of us in North America? This is a country in the European Union which does not even allow it to sign on to the European currency because its currency is merely funny money, as its own citizens call it.

The wash basin is computer controlled from a panel on the door by the entrance. Until you figure out how to start things nothing works. Amazingly, a wave of the hand, in exactly the right place,  puts everything electronic  in the room on or off.

Frankly, I was completely baffled by the technological challenges.  Like a dog in a library, I was at a baffling  loss. Totally mystified.

Even getting out of the room was a huge challenge. How could I open the door? You think that is simple? You should try it.  If I had to get out of the room in an emergency like fire I would no doubt have been French-fried. It took me minutes to get the lock for the door open.

This was an experience like no other. The only thing that might compare would be a trip—a final trip—to another world. Heaven, or that other place.

After all that, we went down to the bar. We needed it badly and thankfully we found a most helpful bartender who administered to our domestic needs with aplomb. And generously without a shot glass.

Like America, life was great again.

Many years ago, my uncle Vic, who was a northern bush pilot, replied to us when we told him we would be flying with Calm Air, that we would be flying “on white knuckles and guts.” I was dismayed when I heard that, but now, about 50 years later, that describes pretty well all commercial flying.

Our first flight was with Air Canada to Montreal. It was not fun.

I have flown many times in my life.  But only a couple on times first class. All of them were accidental and not planned. The first time we got nudged into first class when our Greek Driver in Athens failed to wake up from his deep and restful sleep in time to pick us up and bring us to the airport. Our kindly concierge at the hotel we were staying helped us out by standing in the traffic of an 8-lane major road through the city flagging down a cab for us. As a result, we got to the airport just barely in time as boarding at really ended the KLM staff said they could no longer give us our assigned seating in steerage and with great reluctance gave us a first-class seat, even though clearly, we did not deserve it. The staff were obviously disappointed that such peasants as us we were getting such special treatment. This was the best punishment we ever got for malfeasance.

More recently, Chris and I have learned that we cannot handle steerage seats any more so we have been springing for Premium Economy. Pretty darn good, even if it is not first class. I know that  flying in luxury puts my ‘man of the people’ street creds in jeopardy, but so be it.

We thought we had purchased Premium economy seats for the 3 entire flights, but learned, much to our dismay, that this was not to be. Then when we walked through the aircraft, we realized there were such seats but they were denied to us. As a result, we were crammed in our seats like pigs in a sow gestation pen.  This reinforced our determination to fly better next time. After all, the alternative is to leave more money to our ungrateful lads. I realize that this story of woe will not attract much sympathy.

Then when we arrived in Toronto airport our woes continued.  In a word, that airport experienced a melee. We were sent to 3 different gates by Lufthansa, each a considerable distance apart, before we had the right one. Each one required a lengthy walk.

Added to that, I must admit, I worried a bit, about all the Hasidic Jews in the Montreal Pierre Elliot Trudeau airport, thinking they might attract modern terrorists,  but of course no terrorists ruined our tranquil flight. The airlines did a good job of that.

Even in such relative luxury I could not sleep in the plane. After all, when I tried to sleep, I had only been awake for about 12 hours. Some people managed to sleep but not me. I suffered. This was too much for my circadian rhythm to digest.

When we arrived in Bucharest Romania, we needed 3 different passes for her walker, even though the two previous airports required none. Once again German efficiency was lacking. Next, we had to walk down 3 flights of stairs carrying that well-permitted walker. Of course, all of this added to the stress of travel as we worried (again) about missing our connecting flight.

One thing is clear, flying is no longer idyllic if it ever was. Tranquil flights are a thing of the past. We all fly on white knuckles and guts.

Well, we did arrive in Bucharest, world weary.  Ready to go. To sleep that is.