The day began with Dad submitting a nasty review on the Web page for our Burlington motel.  It won’t help us, but maybe others will avoid the place.

We had breakfast at a nearby Dunkin’ Donuts store.  Tasty donuts, but not as good as Krispy Kreme.  We then found a gas station and filled up before heading north to Canada.  Gas in Burlington was $3.59 per gallon for unleaded!

We took ths scenic route through Vermont, leaving the Burlington area on Interstate 89, connecting with Vermont Route 2 going west onto the Lake Champlain Islands.  What a gorgeous route!  Bays along the roadway most of the way offered great views of tree-lined shores, boat docks, and lots of neat homes in trees along the shore.  If it weren’t for the horribly cold winters, I’d seriously consider living in one of the small communities along Route 2.  We crossed Lake Champlain at its north end, going back into New York at Rouses Point.  We drove a few miles west across the area to connect with Interstate 87 which goes north into Canada.

We crossed the border into Canada after being given the “fifth degree” by one of Canada’s finest immigration agents manning (oops, pardon the gender slip, because she was a female) the booth in the lane through which we passed.  Once into Canada and on the freeway, we immediately noticed a difference in the scenery.  Vermont was green with rolling hills in the distance to the north, east and south, and trees all along the small bays; New York was also green, but much flatter than Vermont; and Canada (the south end of the Quebec Province) was absolutely flat.  We never saw a hill until we arrived in the Montreal area.  And we noticed that most fields bordering the freeway were planted with still standing corn.  I suspect that it was field corn that would eventually be harvested and fed to the animals, of which there was virtually no evidence along our route.

With Mom’s good directions, we arrived at our bed & breakfast shortly after noon, talked with the proprietor, and deposited our baggage in our room.  Mom then telephoned her cousin, Serge, who lives in Montreal.  He came over almost immediately, and we headed for a restaurant for a late lunch.  Of course the topic of conversation was genealogy, but it was a very pleasant lunch.  No fancy food, just tasty and filling.

Afterward, Serge suggested that we take a tour of Old Montreal, so off we went into unknown, to us, environs.  We parked along the waterfront of the Saint Lawrence River in an old warehouse that had been converted into a parking garage (already evidence that the Quebecois aren’t stupid).  We took off on foot to explore some of the old (and new) buildings on the south end of Montreal.  Serge gave us a super guided tour of his town, and after about three hours of walking, we decided it was time to head back to our B&B.  We probably walked more than normal, because after we’d seen most of the highlights in the old city, it was quitting time for most businesses, which meant that the roadways and bridges out of town would be packed with commuters.  By the time we got onto the roadways, it wasn’t bad and traffic moved steadily albeit at a slow pace.  It took us about 30 minutes to get “home” (before 6 pm – a new record for us on this trip).

We both changed into more comfortable clothes (PJs) and then read literature to prepare for tomorrow or magazines that we’d brought with us.  I must’ve dozed off, because I awoke quickly when Mom shut off one of the lights at about 11 pm.  It was really lights out for me after that.

Tomorrow begins our contest with the Canadian drivers, the strange routes, and the language, which we’ve already noticed is strongly accented with local dialect.