Today was a beautiful day in Montreal, bright sunny skies and warm temps (it got up to about 75′ F).  We had a wonderful breakfast at our B&B.  The proprietor fixed us fresh orange juice, french toast using three different kinds of local varieties of bread, fresh diced fruit, and yogurt or maple syrup for our toast.  Delicious!  Can’t wait till tomorrow to see what she prepares.

We began our day at a local bank getting Canadian money to pay for our lodging.  That went well and easily, but the excitement occurred immediately after we finished our business transaction.  Nope, the police didn’t arrive, but we managed to lock the keys in our rental car.  So we went back into the bank and the helpful staff called Avis, only to be told that the Montreal Avis office would have to call the New York rental location to determine if our coverage allowed for free service to come and unlock our auto.  That was stupid, so we asked the bank staff if there were other options.  They told us that they could call a taxi (We immediately explained that we didn’t need a ride because our car was in their parking lot, but they explained that taxi drivers apparently carry a tool that allows them to easily and quickly get into locked cars.  That threw a scare into us because of the potential threat that poses.) or a locksmith.  They suggested that we choose the latter option because at least we could get a receipt that we could submit either to Avis or our auto insurance company for reimbursement.  Needless to say, we heeded their advice and they called a locksmith.  We were told that it would take about a half hour to get to us, but being skeptical about French efficiency, we both figured we’d be standing outside for a while.  Sure enough, they arrived in about 30 minutes and immediately began to try to get our car open.  They failed to get the lock open with a “jimmy bar,” so they went to Plan B, which was a plastic reel containing a steel wire that could be shaped at the end.  Luckily, I’d opened the sun roof into the “ventilation” mode, so the rear of the glass was open about two inches, enough for the man to insert the wire and try to get the hooked end around the door handle.  After about five minutes of “fishing”
he succeeded and the car alarm began sounding.  That took about five seconds to silence.  We paid the bill (about $60) and were then finally on our way.

Our route took us east on the interstate, but there was construction on the exit we needed and in the direction we needed to go.  So we got back on the freeway and drove to the next exit.  Mom had copied directions from MapQuest, but they weren’t working for us, so we reverted to the tried and true road maps.

We arrived at our first destination, St. Jude, where we located the cemetery as we arrived in the village.  We stopped and walked the small area, but found nothing so continued to find the church.  It, too, was along the main highway, so we stopped and went into the office.  The lady was quite helpful and was able to provide Mom with some info, with the help of the local priest to decipher the very faded handwriting in the record book.  It turns out that the info was apparently on someone not one of Mom’s relatives, but she’ll check it out after we’re home.

Our next stop was St. Denis sur Richelieu.  We found the church and the cemetery behind it, but the cemetery gate was locked so we couldn’t get in.  It was now after 2 pm and definitely time for lunch.  So we stopped at the post office to buy postcard stamps and ask for recommendations for lunch.  We checked both recommended restaurants, but they were closed (probably serve lunch between 11 am – 2 pm).  It now was almost 3 pm, so we found a gas station mini-mart and Mom shopped for our lunch.  We’ve been puzzled by the lack of old French atmosphere in the small towns and villages (no bakeries, butcher shops, cheese shops, etc.) where we’d planned to our lunch fixings.  Oh well.  Anyway, we dined on our delicacies (I won’t embarass us by describing what we ate.) on a bench along the Richelieu River and watched the local car ferry go back and forth across the river several times to transport the locals.

Following lunch, we tried to get back on track, but decided it was fruitless to walk cemeteries looking for head stones that may have already been removed.  So we visited several more small town and located just the churches so Mom could take pictures.

The return route took us along the Saint Lawrence River.  It’s obviously a much more commercial river than the Richelieu, and the area was much more populated.  We saw some beautiful homes along the Saint Lawrence, even a couple that resembled small castles (we didn’t even guess at their cost/value).  Honestly, we haven’t any run down homes or apartment buildings like we do regularly in American towns and cities.

The sun was quickly setting and I was getting grumpy (due to hunger and fatigue), so we decided it was time to look for a restaurant.  We had dinner about 7 pm in a non-descript hotel restaurant along the freeway on our return route.  Again, nothing fancy or exotic, but tasty and filling.

After today’s excitement, we’re hoping tomorrow’s a calmer day but full of interesting sights as we look around the area to see where and how Mom’s ancestors lived.  The weather is supposed to be warmer than today, so I’ll probably be in shorts and short-sleeve shirt again.