The Border and Home

We finally reached the U.S. Border, and I got really nervous about making it back across.

After our run-in with the Canadian customs official, and the "excitement" we had with him, I didn't have any idea what to expect from the American customs official.  All I knew was that people had warned me about not having a passport, and I started to freak out a little bit about being able to get back across the border.  After about 20 minutes waiting in line, we pulled up to the official, and he asked us if we had a good time in Canada.  We said yes, and then he asked us if we had stopped on the side of the road to pick flowers or pick up food or anything else that we were planning to bring back across the border.  We said no, and he checked the vehicle for any flowers we might be smuggling.  He wished us well and welcomed us back to the States. 

We decided to take an alternate route home, driving through the White Mountains of New Hampshire.  We stopped in a little town in Vermont for lunch, and tried some Poutine, which is basically french fries with brown gravy and cheese curds in them.  It's not very good.  The grilled cheese, bacon and tomato sandwich I had, however, was pretty incredible.  We left a luni as a tip for our waitress (with some American money).  Our ride home was fairly uneventful, until we arrived back to Somerville and Nicole crossed several lanes of traffic in order to get into a Burger King to use the bathroom.

Overall, the trip to Montreal was a blast.  I was reminded over and over again of God's faithfulness, and that God really does answer the prayers of His people.  It was a beautiful picture of reconciliation to see Lindsey and Lauren reunited, and I am happy to report that Lauren has been in close contact with her family since.

The United States Border.

The Lyndon Freighthouse, where we ate lunch in Vermont.

We're Lost!

On the ride home, I had a brilliant idea.

I decided that every road trip needs a good sign to show to other cars as you drive by.  I was probably too thrilled with my idea, because I couldn't stop laughing long enough to actually write out the sign.  I took one of our Mapquest maps and wrote on the back, "We're Lost!"  I would put it up in the window and make an awful look of confusion and fright.  The girls got a kick out of it, especially since I pulled down the visor mirror to practice my facial expressions before I flashed the sign.

"We're Lost!"

Lindsey doesn't look very convinced.

The Waterfront

Our Sunday morning routine was much like that of Saturday morning.  We woke up, took showers, and headed down to the lobby for the continental breakfast.

After breakfast, we checked out of the hotel and stopped by the waterfront of Montreal to check out the sites.  It was raining, and I think we were all sort of in a daze, because none of us really talked much, we just sort of drank in everything we saw.  The waterfront was beautiful, and would have been spectacular had it not been raining.

We went to Lauren's apartment for one more goodbye, and then we loaded up in the Jeep and began to make our way through Montreal towards the Highway.  

Nicole and I getting soaked down by the waterfront.

Lindsey and Nicole by the river.

"Welcome to Canada!"

St. Catherine's St.

Our night on the town, cleverly planned by Nicole and myself, was supposed to involve dancing in order to celebrate a successful trip.  So we headed out in the direction of St. Catherine's Street, as directed by the concierge at the hotel.  

The best way to describe St. Catherine's Street is to compare it to the Strip in Myrtle Beach.  If you're not familiar with that particular stretch of Ocean Boulevard that runs by where the Pavilion used to be, then think about a one-mile stretch of road that is packed with people, cars cruising with the windows rolled down and the music turned up, and restaurants, bars, tourist traps, and strip clubs lining the sidewalk.  Then think about all of those folks decked out in Montreal Canadiens gear, and think about them all speaking French.  Now you're on St. Catherine's Street.

Before we left for Montreal, the residents at the Rescue Mission warned me about St. Catherine's Street.  Well, they didn't actually warn me, they told me that St. Catherine's Street was where everyone went when they visited Montreal, and that I should definitely try to go and hang out there.  Now I know why.  Montreal's legal drinking age is 18, and I'm sure the admitting age into the bars and strip clubs is also 18.  It makes a lot of sense when I think about our clients letting me know all about St. Catherine's Street, they probably all had lots of experience.  

We walked on St. Catherine's Street for a while, looking for a dance club called "Thursday's."  After passing several strip clubs, being solicited to go inside because of the "beautiful women," and having Nicole and Lindsey "checked out" by some really sketchy dudes, we found "Thursday's" in a line of other clubs and bars on a side street off of St. Catherine's.  We walked inside, and were really disappointed with what we found.  Instead of loads of people dancing and living it up, all we found was loud music - and some really old, really scandalously dressed people.  There were three or four folks dancing, and we were all feeling pretty uncomfortable at this point, but we found a table in the corner and had a seat.  Almost immediately a waitress came to our table and asked if we wanted anything, and I ordered a Labatt Bleue.  Nicole and Lindsey followed suit, and before we knew it, the waitress had three bottles of the Canadian Budweiser at our table.  The kicker is that it was $6...per bottle.  That's right - three bottles of Canadian Budweiser was $18.  We were shocked - and dismayed - because Labatt Bleue is, well, terrible.  We were upset that there wasn't really any dancing going on, and we were getting tired, as well.  We had had a long day, so we finished our beer and decided to head back to the hotel.  As we walked out of "Thursday's," we noticed another door, above which a sign read, "Thursday's Club."  We had completely missed the entrance to the dance club, but at this point were utterly exhausted and ready to call it a day.  We walked back to the hotel, got some snacks from Nicole's car, and very soon after went to sleep.

Notice the bottle of Labatt Bleue - it is terrible.

Lindsey and Nicole at Thursday's.

The Map

This is how I found Nicole in the obscure part of the hotel.

This is Nicole's reaction to me standing there.

This is my reaction to what she was doing.  

DOUBLED OVER WITH LAUGHTER.

(a pretty good indication of what the rest of the trip was like)

Catching Our Second Wind

When we got back to the hotel, we had about 2 and a half hours before meeting Lauren for dinner.

We were so exhausted that when we got to the room, we all crashed.  It was about 4:30pm, and we all took naps for about an hour before visiting the hotel bar for Happy Hour (The hotel gave us two free drink coupons per person).  We met Lindsey's sister at 7pm in the hotel lobby, and went to Montreal's Chinatown.  We ate at "La Maison de V.I.P." and had some really incredible Chinese food.  We mistakenly ordered a "dinner for four," and had way more food than any of us could put down.  The waitstaff was pretty funny, too.  One of the waiters brought our soup and, as he set the first bowl on the table, said, "Wonton Soup.  Ding dong!"  

When we left the restaurant, we saw a street sweeper that resembled an anteater.  We headed back to the hotel, and Lindsey and her sister kicked it for a while and called their parents while Nicole and I headed down to the lobby to give them some space and to have some adventures of our own.  

In the lobby, we found out that we could use the Bonaventure Hilton's swimming pool, which was on the roof of the hotel.  I got really excited about this fact and took the map from the concierge and slapped it across the desk, saying, with lots of feeling, "Welcome to Canada!"  Nicole and I walked away flabbergasted about what had just come out of my mouth, but laughing hysterically at the same time.

Later on, Nicole disappeared to some obscure part of the lobby.  When I found her, she was reading French phrases off of the map to herself, out loud.  Then she began to sing, and finally started humming to herself, before going, "Oh!" and dropping the map to find me standing there laughing hysterically.  

We finally went back to the room, told Lauren goodbye, and Lindsey, Nicole and I headed out for a night on the town...

Relaxing in the room.

The street-cleaner.

Lindsey and Lauren.

Marijuana Parade, Part 2

We climbed on the #80 bus, and were greeted by a bus driver speaking in French.

After we got on the #80 bus, we felt relieved because we had our bus transfers in hand and were ready to hit St. Catherine's Street, where there was rumored to be some good shopping (this was more up the girls' alley than mine, but I was happy to tag along).  We had traveled for about two blocks when a Metro official jumped on the bus and began screaming commands in French.  We weren't sure what was happening, but everyone started getting off the bus, so we followed suit.  We stood on the corner for a minute debating what we should do next, as the Metro Official was explaining something in French to most everyone else who got off the bus.  They looked like a tour group, so we stayed on the corner talking about what we would do.  Then, to our surprise, the Metro official crossed the street from the mob of folks he had just ushered away, and waved to us to follow him!  Not thinking twice, we did!  We ended up boarding the #97 bus with our friends from the #80 bus, and were off.

Looking back, it makes a lot of sense why what happened next happened at all.  Three Americans were riding a bus because a man wearing a uniform waved at them to follow him and yelled some things in French.  We had no idea where we were going, what direction our hotel was in, or how we would get home now that we were on a new bus.  But the bus pulled forward, and we were off.

A few things happened on this bus ride.  First, we drove right past the actual Marijuana parade.  The highlight of the protests were the Rastafarians who were rapping on the back of a flatbed truck.  They had dreadlocks and were decked out in their best reggae threads.  There was also a girl dressed like a marijuana leaf, and lots of folks who were just happy to be there.  

Second, we began to realize that we were pulling further and further away from where we wanted to be, particularly since we passed the area we had been in earlier in the day, and began to see things that we didn't recognize.  Ahead of us, a weird arm-looking thing began to make it's way into the sky, and we began to realize, too, that all three of us had to use the bathroom pretty badly.  A nice Frenchman, recognizing our distress, advised us to get off the bus immediately and get on another bus, but he didn't give us much direction as to how to get on the other bus, or where we would actually find it.  

We got off the bus at the next stop, and Nicole and I puzzled over a map of the Metro for a minute before figuring out where we needed to be and how we needed to get there.  At this point, we were really needing restrooms badly, and were excited to see a gas station ahead.  As we walked up to the restroom in the bathroom, though, our spirits dropped as we read a sign on which was written, "Hors d'usage," or "Out of Order."  So we trekked on.  Finally, we found the Metro station we were looking for (after another 15-20 minutes of walking) and luckily there was a Dunkin' Donuts right beside the station.  There was a sign on the door that said the bathroom was only for paying customers, and Nicole got discouraged and said, "Oh well, I guess we can't go in there."  At this point, I looked at her and said, "Nicole, you must be crazy!  I'll buy anything I have to in order to use their bathroom!"  We walked inside, purchased a "Special de Patron" donut, and were all able to use the women's restroom (the men's key was lost).  We walked into the Metro station, relieved, handed our transfer tickets to the Metro official, and boarded the subway back to our hotel.

The Marijuana Protest.

More from the Marijuana Protest.

Nicole and I figuring out where we need to go.

The "Arm" in the distance, which turned out to be Olympic Stadium (circa 1976), which is a VERY LONG WAY from our hotel.  You can also see the corner of the gas station where we first tried to use the restroom.

Marijuana Parade

After we left the costume shop, we scoped out some local clothing stores that were a little overpriced (like most stuff in Canada).  

There was one store, called "Preloved," that constructed clothing from old t-shirts and other various materials.  After we visited this shop, we went to a restaurant called "Tomato" for lunch.  We ordered a three-cheese pizza and all had Stewart's sodas.  After lunch, we saw what we thought was a protest rally to re-legalize marijuana.  Apparently, Montreal recently criminalized marijuana, and there was supposed to be a big protest on Saturday.  We walked down to the rally, and it turned out to be a May Day parade instead.  We were a little disappointed, but Lauren knew just what would lift our spirits - CUPCAKES!

We went to a cupcake restaurant that Lauren recommended, and we all got different types of cupcakes.  Lindsey got a vanilla one, Nicole got a lemon one, and I got a chocolate chai one.  After we left the cupcake shop, Lauren explained how we should get back to our hotel by the #80 bus.  We crossed the street and climbed on board...

This was a Nautical shop across the street from "Tomato."

The May Day parade, complete with Trojan Horse!

Dress-up

When Nicole and I left Lindsey with Lauren, we were looking for a place to kick it while they hung out.

We found a local Starbucks, called "Cafe Starbucks Coffee," and went inside.  I ordered a Tall Vanilla Latte (which was $5 there!) and we sat down in the corner of the store and talked about how blown away we had been by what we just witnessed.  It was such a testament to God's faithfulness that Lindsey and Lauren would be reconciled to one another immediately, and Nicole and I just couldn't believe it.  While we were sitting in Starbucks, talking about these things and fighting off the tears, we saw Lindsey and Lauren walk by!  Nicole waved to them and got their attention, and they headed back to Lauren's apartment while Nicole and I decided to scope out the local shops.

The first shop we went into was a costume shop.  We had a lot of fun in there.  Nicole picked up a pair of huge sunglasses and put them on, and then we found some rad hats.  Nicole tried on various "Southern Belle" and English-style party hats, and I tried on some Pirate and Patriot hats - the three-cornered ones.  I also found a sweet cardboard hat with the red, white and blue stripe around it, and felt like I was celebrating the 4th of July (except that we were in Canada).  Lindsey and Lauren met us in the costume shop, and we greeted them with our hats on - we took a couple of photos of ourselves before leaving the shop to explore more of Montreal with Lindsey's sister.

The Viking Hats we greeted Lindsey and Lauren with when they got to the costume shop.

more hats... 

and more pictures...

Inside the Metro Station - this is the Map of the Orange Line.  

Nicole riding on the train, looking a little nervous.

The "Cafe Starbucks" where Nicole and I kicked it while Lindsey and Lauren hung out.

The outside of Lauren's apartment building.

Finally, some pictures!

Lindsey and Nicole outside of a rest area in Vermont.

Me driving to Canada.

The Stop Sign at the Border - Arret!

The Search Begins...

Our day on Saturday began early, around 7:30am, when Nicole's biological clock "went off."

Actually, Nicole claimed that her biological clock would go off around 7:30am, but I think it was broken, because she didn't wake up until a little after 8:00am.  We all went down to the lobby for the Embassy Suites Continental Breakfast, which was incredible!  They had bagels, muffins, English muffins, pastries, fruit, bacon, sausage, home fries, and, best of all, a make-your-own omelet bar.  They also had coffee and two types of juice.  We ate breakfast and then got ready for the day.  

We left the hotel around 9:45am, headed for the Metro station.  Although I've often claimed that I was "born to navigate," Nicole did a wonderful job of steering us around the city, particularly when it came to using the Metro, Montreal's public transportation system.  When we arrived to the Place D'Armes Subway Station, the ticket machine was broken, so we had to ask the Metro employee for tickets.  Unfortunately, he wouldn't speak to us in anything except French, and finally we just pushed $12 through the window and he gave us 6 tickets.  

After some debate, Nicole figured out which train we were supposed to get on, and we rode on the Orange Line to our destination.  We exited the train and first headed in the wrong direction before realizing that the numbers were not going the way they were supposed to on the apartments we were passing.  We switched directions, and arrived at the steps of Lindsey's sister's apartment.  

Lindsey went up to the door, rang the doorbell, and Nicole and I watched on, with much anticipation.  After a few seconds, Lindsey rang the doorbell again.  A girl came to the door, and Lindsey and her sister, Lauren, stood face to face for the first time in 2 years.  The sweetest hug I've ever witnessed followed, and ensued for close to 10 minutes.  Nicole and I went to a local Starbucks, called Cafe Starbucks Coffee in Montreal, and kicked it while Lindsey and Lauren reunited.

Crossing the Border

The first real excitement we had on our trip occurred when we tried to cross the Canadian border.

As we pulled up to the Customs House, we knew we were in for trouble because the Stop Sign didn't say stop, but rather, "Arret."  We were third in line, and had to wait for a while before we saw the customs official.  When we finally got to the window, the customs official greeted us and welcomed us to the border (in French, of course) and then proceeded to ask us a truck-load of questions very quickly:

"Where do you live?"

"Where are you going?"

"Why do I only have one ID and not three?"

"What is the purpose of your visit?"

"How long will you be in Montreal?"

"Are you carrying any alcohol, tobacco, or firearms?"

"Are you carrying anything you plan to leave in Montreal, gifts, presents, anything?"

"What is your sister doing in Montreal?"

"Oh, She's in School?  What School?"

After the barrage of questions, he reassured us by saying, "You folks are in for some excitement tonight!"  He handed us a slip and directed us to hand it to the officer we would pull up to, and that officer asked us to get out of the vehicle.  As we stood off to the side and the border police scanned Nicole's Jeep for drugs, bombs, and other questionable items, Nicole started acting really shady.  She kept making comments about how she was nervous, and Lindsey and I both asked her what she was talking about and what she had in the Jeep that was going to get us into trouble.  Fortunately, they didn't find whatever Nicole was worried about, and we got back in the vehicle and made our way to Montreal.  

Some Background...

You may be wondering why I went to Montreal in the first place.  

Two of my friends [Lindsey and Nicole] and I drove to Montreal to search for Lindsey's sister, who has been out of contact with her family for close to two years.  Lindsey had an address, but no real way of knowing whether her sister would be there or not.  We departed from my apartment around 6:30pm with full stomachs, good tunes, and a 6 hour road trip ahead of us.  

I have to say from the front of telling this whole story that I was pretty skeptical about finding Lindsey's sister at all.  I was going more for moral support than anything else, in addition to it being my first out-of-country experience.  I knew that even if we didn't find her, the three of us would have a blast in Canada, particularly since Montreal is French-speaking and none of us really knew any French (even though Lindsey and I had both taken it for several years apiece), but also because, well, that's typically how road trips go.  And so we left, not really knowing what to expect beyond whatever fun and adventure might lay in store.  

Road Trips are Awesome

Over the course of the next few days, I hope to be able to post some different stories that paint a fairly accurate picture of a road trip I took this weekend to Montreal, Quebec, Canada.  To start things off, though, I thought I would make a quick list of things I think make road trips awesome.

1.  Road Trip Music.  That's right folks, a CD for every hour of your trip, with songs that range the gamete of musical greatness like Garth Brooks' "Thunder Rolls," The Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated," Journey's "Don't Stop Believin,'" or Kelly Clarkson's "Since U Been Gone."  

2.  "Playing the Game."  If you know what the game is, then you have a pretty great idea about why this makes a road trip memorable.  

3.  Crossing the Border.  Surprisingly exhilarating, especially when you're told, "You guys are in for some excitement tonight," or asked if you stopped on the side of the road to pick some flowers that you were trying to smuggle back into the USA.

4.  "Adventures."  These could include protests, dancing, bus-riding, or ice machines.

5.  Good Food.  Preferably the local variety.

6.  Snacks.  Make sure you've got plenty on hand.  

7.  Run-ins with the locals.  

I hope this whets your appetite to hear more about this great trip to Montreal.