snacks on a plane

I carry a baggie of nuts, seed and dried fruit with me at all times. You never know where your next meal is coming from. And if I get stuck on a job, a bus, an edit or an airport, I want to be prepared. If I don't eat enough, I get a bit wrangy, irritable, and plain old stupid.

Today my baggie contains almonds, walnuts, pumpkin seeds, dried blueberries, sour cherries and gooseberries.

Of course, if you do get stuck at an airport, and it happens to be the Island Airport, you can fill up on ginger cookies or shortbread or toasted almonds to your heart's delight. Porter recently celebrated (with cupcakes, see photo) four years of business. Flying refined. I'll say. Breakfast, lunch, and a glass of wine or a tall can of Steam Whistle that's complimentary? Hip hip hooray. I will do anything to avoid a trip to Pearson.

If I have to go to Ottawa for the day (which happens maybe twice or three times a year) I can ride my bike to the Island Airport, lock it up, hop on a state-of-the-art Bombardier Q400, do my business, then do the reverse to get home. No need to dip into my emergency nut sack.

Then there's is flying privately.


Disclaimer: This has happened only once.

I was hired to shoot the ground breaking ceremony for new gold mine near Timmins. A brisk September morning after making the 90 second ferry ride over to the terminal, the gang (16 of us) walked straight past the pleasant, navy clad Porter employee down the special steps on the right.

Outside, a few hundred feet to the end of the building, we rounded the corner where the pilot met us in the private terminal. Washrooms, leather chairs and that morning's Globe and Mail there for the taking. Eight people per plane were to board each of the two King Air 200's awaiting us. Lovely little aircraft. Extra smooth flight to the airstrip outside Timmins, then another hour's drive through the winding forested rocky road to the mine near Metachawan.

Only on the return flight did I learn that my colleague was afraid to fly. I suppose that's why he dipped in the portable cooler of canned Canadians first. We passed a basket of chips and peanuts around and enjoyed happy hour. It was Friday, 3:00 pm.

I'm not going to lie to you. I hate line ups and would prefer a private flight any day.

That said, Porter is indeed, flying refined.