Trump wins, so we head for the hills

Well, the it is worse than expected in the US – so much for a “razor-close” election. Trump won and, at least in terms of seats, it wasn’t even close (279 to 223, or something like that). It is a complete shitshow – and the American people get exactly what they deserve. Such is democracy: but, as is the right of people all over the world to comment on such elections, how stupid are they though? Apologies, of course, to any Americans reading this: but honestly…
 
I’m more than a little apprehensive about the future now. For the future of Canada – how well will we do with that moron in charge? – but also for the future of the United States. It really is two nations now. I said this the last time it happened – but I can see the place erupting into a full-on civil war in a couple of years. Trump is going to make the States an even worse place to live – and an even worse place to be a neighbour to. It feels really good to be able to up sticks and get away from it all – not least from the endless Canadian pontificating about “what it all means” – even if it is just for a couple of weeks in Portugal.
 
I’m writing this on a VIA Rail train (#47 to Toronto, if you want to know). As usual on a VIA Rail train, we are sitting on the track waiting to move – and waiting with no explanation. I don’t think a VIA Rail train has ever left or arrived on time (let alone left AND arrived on time). Leaving with only 45 minutes delay, we made it from Ottawa to Fallowfield (15km) with no further stops, but now, five yards outside Fallowfield, we’ve stopped. Ludicrous service. Overpriced and inept. We’re only taking the train because Ottawacker Jr. begged to take it – and because Air Canada couldn’t get us to Toronto for our connection with TAP (also a Star Alliance member) on time for under $600 per person.
 
The rest of the journey passed reasonably uneventfully, at least until we got off the train. Mrs. Ottawacker then decided it would be good to ask me if I had paid attention to the man I was sitting next to on the train (we had a 4-person table in the middle of the carriage). I admitted I hadn’t. “Well,” she said, almost gleefully, “he was scratching the whole way down – and at one point he lifted his shirt and I saw this massive rash across his stomach. He might have had scabies or fleas or something.” I hesitated about asking her if she might not have told me this while I could have done something about it – but didn’t. Experience, you see. I do now, however, feel decidedly itchy. And I am a little concerned about sitting next to someone who was scratching for 5 hours without my noticing it.
 
We arrived in Toronto with 45 minutes delay, which means either we made up the time spent waiting in Fallowfield or it is part of the normal service. Consequently, I told Ottawacker Jr. that we weren’t going to spend time walking about the city looking for the pizzeria he’d specifically researched for dinner, but were rather going directly to the airport. We took the excellent (if a little pricy) TP Express and arrived 15 minutes later at Pearson. We went for a bit to eat at one of the concessions, and then dropped the one suitcase we were taking off at the baggage drop, and then went through security.
 
Then, of course, we sat and waited. The flight left pretty much on time and was fine. We all managed to get at least some sleep. The onset of scabies appears to have either been delayed or isn’t happening. But I still cannot believe that the orange buffoon won.