As I write this, I am sat in the hotel in Winnipeg and have just learnt that the bus travellers had a further adventure when they skidded on ice near Regina and left the road. Thankfully the bus and its occupants were safe and got back on their way an hour later, but I suspect this will provide for some interesting stories next time we are together.
For the first time in many days I am alone, and think that Heather and Colette will be in the air somewhere over the USA, either laughing and joking together or fast asleep through the exhaustion and exhilaration of the trip. I think of how I appear to have more in common with a the GBF group who live 6000 miles from me in a different culture to those in Manchester I work with everyday. I then start browsing online for flights for the Great Bear Reunion next year in Montana and find some optimism.
On the flight from Chicago, the American stewardess giving out British customs forms tells me that I must be English before I'd even opened my mouth. I thought of a couple of people who would have made a joke of this had they been with me. Later, some Americans saw me looking at my polar bear pictures and I had a very pleasant chat. This reminded me how open, accepting, and friendly Americans were.