Five minutes after I finished the last entry, a driver massaged the rules a bit and I was able to get a ride to Whyte Avenue. It did mean I had to walk two blocks on Whyte, dragging suitcases, on a Friday evening.
But I’m home now.
My throat has been scratchy since I first boarded a plane today/yesterday. That doesn’t bode well, but at least it is happening at the end of the vacation, not the start.