9/24/16,
“The Long and Winding Road”
Edmundston,
New Brunswick
That is
probably one of the least glamorous datelines I have ever posted (nor is this
vista any more glamorous), but the journey that brought me from Toronto,
Ontario through Montreal, Quebec and here to Edmundston, New Brunswick is
certainly one worth recording. There is
a certain magic to long drives alone on the open road, and it allows a way to
clear your mind to think in a way nothing else does. While I am certainly a big fan of road trips
with friends and the adventures and jokes such trips often entail, driving
alone for long distances provides its own unique experience. With nothing to distract you and most of your
brainpower being devoted to the actions of driving itself, it frees up a
certain portion of your brain for reflection and musing and all sorts of other
types of thinking.
The only other
similar experience I can relate is those few minutes before you fall asleep,
but that is such a small timeframe compared to the eleven hours I spent behind the
wheel of the car today, driving over 1000 km across three provinces. During that drive, on the long and winding
road, and I had plenty of time to think, and think I did. Alone with nothing but my own thoughts and
bunch of cigars, I thought a lot. Most
of my thoughts during the drive were unpublishable, well, actually, I suppose
they all were, except for the thoughts that pertained to writing this entry,
which is self-referential, so I do not even need to record them, and the
thoughts about future trips, which will be revealed in due time. Instead, I will regale my reader with the
adventures that brought me from Toronto to Edmundston.
After I closed, I soon went to sleep and
slept in a bit, waking up slightly after 9 AM, which was an hour behind schedule. I changed into my cargo pants, wearing casual
longs for once, and my Yukon t-shirt. I
also packed in my pockets everything I would need for my walk to the
Legislative Assembly building and back, not wanting to have to come back up to
my room on the 35th Floor before heading out.
I went down to the breakfast buffet, and I
began to take a plate of food, only to be informed by the hostess that I needed
to be “seated” first. Huh? She needed to show me to my seat before I was
allowed to take food. I was starving and
wanted to spare myself the extra trip.
Couldn’t I just grab the plate and take it with me to my seat? No, that was not allowed. She walked me to my seat and pointed it out
to me. Without even sitting down, I
walked back to the buffet and helped myself to meager portions of bacon, eggs,
sausage, potatoes, and some odd pastry next to the pancakes. I had asked for a coffee, which was arriving
just as I sat down. I typically don’t
eat breakfast, though I have been eating chocolate cake for breakfast the past
two days, as I read an article that having chocolate for breakfast actually
helps your focus and your diet. It has
kept me full for a good four hours, but I’m not sure about the focus part. This meager plate was considerably more than
my typical breakfast, though. I scarfed
it down and headed out.
The walk to the
Legislative Assembly building was about 35 minutes, so I lit up a Bolivar
Brasil Exclusivo for the walk. I could
see the building off in the distance as I was approaching it. I soon arrived, ditching my cigar before my
ceremonial picture. “Ontario Complete,”
I announced, commenting on how Official it was before adding, “And now let’s
find those flag pins” (or something to that effect). I posted to social media, noting that it was
now “12 down, 1 to go” with the provincial and territorial legislative assembly
buildings. Only the one in Newfoundland
and Labrador (one building for the doubly named province) remained.
I went in search of my flag pin. There was a shop not far away called “Canada
Gifts,” which seemed a good place to start.
When I got there, I knew I had hit the jackpot. If there was a shop in Toronto that would
have flag pins, it would be this one. They
had them. I bought three, along with
some other random souvenirs. I continued
back to the hotel and stopped at a Tim Horton’s for a coffee. I kept walking down the street and saw
someone taking a picture of the building.
I followed the line of sight of his camera and saw a cigar store Indian. Oh, that’s cool. Wait.
If there is a cigar store Indian, that meant there was a cigar
store. I checked. Yes, it was a cigar store. I went inside and realized that, again, I had
hit the jackpot. While Canadian tobacco
tax is brutal, I would be able to make up for missing out in Italy. I got a nice selection of ciars, including traditional birthday cigars, Montecristo
Number 4, a tradition dating back four years now, and some Vegas Robaina Canada
Exclusivos. As I was checking out, I
complained about the Canadian tobacco tax, and he sympathized with me. He also threw in two very expensive cigars as
a gift, for which I was quite grateful.
My business in Ontario was done, and I headed back to the hotel. It was noon by the time I left my room, and I
was now two hours behind schedule. I
checked out of the hotel and went to my car.
I hit bad traffic leaving the city, understanding now why the hotel
availability was so sparse last night.
In addition to the Blue Jays game, the World Series of Hockey is
wrapping up in Toronto now. People from
all over the world would be here to see that.
Eventually I was on the highway, and I lit up my Davidoff Yamasa Toro
and put on Taylor Swift’s album Red, as I always do for the first long drive of
any trip.
After the cigar, I stopped at
a rest stop for lunch. They call the
rest stops there “On Route”, which is a play on words involving the
abbreviation for Ontario. It is right
off the side of the highway, very similar to what I found in Germany. I went again to Tim Horton’s getting their
steak sandwich with wedges and a coffee, along with a pumpkin spice donut for
later. I scarfed down my meal and headed
back to the car. Fed up with Taylor’s
recent personal drama, I decided I would listen to my old favorite singer
instead: Avril Lavigne. I queued up her
debut album Let Go, lit up a San Cristobal, and got back on the road,
remembering that she was Canadian as I drove back onto the highway. I then remembered that she grew up in a small
town in Ontario. I tried to remember
what it was called. The name Napanee quickly
came to me. That had to be around here
somewhere.
I continued to drive with my
cigar and music, and then I saw the sign that made my heart leap. Napanee, 12 km. Even though I was now about three hours
behind schedule and still had about nine hours to go to get to Edmundston, I
said to myself, “I can’t not stop.” This
was my idol growing up. Sk8er Boi was a
song that changed my life. I still know
all the words to it. After all this
time? Always. I tried to figure out the best way to
proceed, and then I saw a field of tall grass with a big decorative sign that
said Napanee. That would be perfect. I pulled over and got out of the car. Her song My World was the one that mentions
Napanee. To make it even better, she
used to make her money cutting grass. I
walked through the field to get to a photo spot and played My World from my
phone. I took pictures and video for
social media. It was perfect. I was on the verge of tears when I got back
to my car. How perfect was this? It’s so funny how unexpected highlights of a
trip can happen like that.
After I
finished the cigar, I stopped at another “On Route” for gas this time. I got a serious sense of déjà vu as I walked
through the service station. It was laid
out identically to the other one. It
even had the same stores. I finished my
donut from earlier, lit up a Partagas, played her 2013 eponymous album, and got
back on the road. It would be a straight
shot from there to my favorite hot dog place in Montreal: Decarie. I had no business in Montreal other than
those hot dogs and poutine. It was worth
the slight detour. After the Partagas, I
lit up a Toscano, which I ditched as I was pulling on to Decarie Boulevard.
There was some traffic once I got into town,
but I found a parking spot right in front of the familiar hot dog shop, which I
was now offering my custom for the third time in my travels, arriving just at
sunset, right before 7 PM. One
problem. I was not able to parallel park
with the SUV I had been given.
Fortunately, the car in front of me pulled out, and I was able to park
there. I was delighted to see that the
shop now had outdoor seating. I got two
all-dressed hot dogs and some poutine, which I paired with a Vegas Robaina
Canada Exclusivo. It would be a feast
for a king as far I was concerned. Every
bit of it was as delicious as I remembered, and I was glad for the outdoor
seating to have my cigar.
I got back on
the road and was on my way to the hotel.
I was looking at an arrival at the hotel between midnight and 1 AM. This was a very familiar drive, Aut-20 N from
Montreal to Quebec, at night, almost entirely on cruise control. This was the third time I had driven it, each
time after a stop at Decarie. I would be
turning off towards New Brunswick before I reached Quebec, this time,
though. Listening to her album Under My
Skin now, my next cigar was a Blind’s Man Bluff, which smoked way too quickly,
followed by an Aroma de Cuba. I stopped
for gas before I reached the turn-off from Quebec. I also got some poutine-flavored chips, a
beer for later, chocolate for later, a seltzer, and a coffee. It was all much-needed. It was freezing out now, so I retrieved my
PEI sweatshirt, which I immediately donned.
I put Let Go back on, lit up a Cusano, and got back on the road. I was looking at a hard arrival at the hotel
by 1 AM, which would be good given all of my stops. I then had an “Oh, shit” moment. I remembered that New Brunswick is on Atlantic
Time, not Eastern Time, which meant it’s an hour ahead. My hard arrival at the hotel would be 2 AM,
not 1 AM. Technically, it didn’t even
matter, since I will gain the hour back as soon as I cross back into Quebec,
but it was annoying, thinking I would not be asleep until well after 3 AM. I arrived at the hotel without incident,
following the Cusano up with a Perdomo.
I checked in and headed to my room.
I was in my nightclothes by 2 AM local time, though my watch and all of
my electronic time pieces still registered a few minutes before 1 AM. I got situated with my Molson beer and a
Rinaldo pipe, having a smoking room this time, and sat down in a chair by the outside
door, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I
can publish and get to sleep. Tomorrow I
finally attack my white whale: Miguasha National Park.
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