My suitcase, sadly, did not arrive with me. As the flight was delayed by two and half hours, I would have thought they had ample time to get all of the baggage onto the plane but this was not the case -- I was one of several passengers who was told that our luggage was still sitting in Newark. I really hadn't minded the delays and the constant gate changes -- well, not much; it was rainy with low clouds and I would have been surprised if we'd left on time.
But the last thing anyone wants when you have finally arrived at your destination is to spend another two hours, first with your heart steadily sinking at the stubbornly empty baggage carousel, then standing in lines, filling out forms, getting said forms stamped by Customs, standing in more lines and finally being sent on your way with a tracking number and a complimentary toothbrush.
At least my sad story got me an upgrade to a better hotel room with a view of the park. I slept in my underwear, but hey, I could see a church steeple in the snow from my bed when I woke up this morning.
My boots, of course, are in my missing bag. Fingers crossed that it actually shows up today, or it will be a mad scramble of shopping before taking the train to Quebec City tomorrow afternoon.