Oh Canada!

As our month in Boston drew to a close, the sadness of having to once again pack up and leave the east coast was somewhat overwhelming.  It was very reminiscent of when we left Pennsylvania three years ago and headed to the uncharted territory known as Minnesota. While I know we could never be permanent residents of any coast, it's still fun to pretend when we take these extended trips.  Pretend as we may, there eventually comes a day when reality hits and it's time to go home.  This time around, however, neither Nick nor I could bear to make the drive back to Minnesota on the same old route.  In fact, both of us swore, after spending over a hundred and forty dollars on toll roads on the way there, that we would never drive that blasted freeway again.  Consequently, we had to get kind of inventive in finding the right detour home.  After considering all of our options, we decided that the northern route was the only way to go.  And by "northern route", I mean cutting up through Vermont and New Hampshire and taking the free Canadian highway back to good old Rochester.  The drive would be slightly longer than the one through the U.S., but we decided to make a go of it nonetheless.  And can I just say, I'm so glad we did.  Not only did we get to drive through some beautiful New Hampshire towns and stop off at the famous Vermont Cold Hollow Cider Mill--home of the best cloth pressed apple cider in the world,

 but then we got to enjoy a bit of an international experience for the first time in several years.   Although our whole family crossed over to the Canadian side of the border on our trip to Niagara Falls a few years back, (almost getting stranded there since mom left her purse at the hotel!) this jaunt into the land northward was much more substantial.  In fact, I think Nick and I were a little too naive when we crossed the border this time around.  Neither one of us anticipated the total language and culture change, complete with unreadable street signs and incomprehensible costumer service.

  

It was a bit tricky making the transition over, and it tested my very rusty French to its very limits, but in the end it was quite a delightful little venture.  In fact, it gave me the international travel itch like I haven't experienced in years.  Driving into Montreal across the river felt so much like driving into Paris that I could hardly stand it.  And the kids were instantly infatuated with the language change.  They, especially Maddi, wanted to be taught French right away, and she, like her mother, very much enjoyed testing out the new vocabulary on the very attractive waiter at our first Canadian dinner stop.  

After dinner, securing a hotel soon became our next priority, and lucky for us, the Canadian hotel we stayed in accepted our American Express credit card!  The next day, which happened to be a Sunday, we got up and watched a few French cartoons, and then excitedly got dressed in our Sunday best.  We could hardly wait to attend a church meeting in another language, especially mom who still has a copy of le Livre de Mormon back home.  Unfortunately for us all; however, we managed to attend the only English speaking branch in a hundred miles.  Bummer!  Afterwards we snapped a picture down by the river, gassed up with fuel prices that were so much cheaper than back home (cheaper until we realized it was being sold by the liter!) and then hit the road again.

We drove for a bit, and then we were supposed to cut south again driving down through Toronto and then into Detroit. After about an hour or so on the beautiful Canadian highway, however, we decided to extend our trip yet again and stick to a less familiar northern route.  This took us up through the Canadian mountains, past the Algonquin Provincial Park, and to the quaint little town of North Bay, Ontario, where we spent our second Canadian night.  This time there was no French waiter to take our order; rather, we ate in the home of a Canadian local who prided herself on her authentic Canadian cuisine.  Here is a picture of just such cuisine--Canadian poutine (or fries with gravy and mozzarella cheese) and a grilled cheese sandwich.  Talk about living it up in Canada!  Much better than the expensive Steak and Pasta joint that was just next door!

The next day we woke early again, drove around the northern side of beautiful Lake Huron, passed the famous locks in Sault Ste. Marie, and back through the more familiar Wisconsin territory.  We arrived home that night quite satisfied with our Canadian detour.  If we ever decide to drive to the east coast again--which we won't--it will be Oh Canada again for us for sure!