Arrival in Montreal (Day 2)

The second day of our latest and greatest roadtrip adventure saw the party of 10 split into two parts. My parents took the scenic route up Highway 2 through the islands of Lake Champlain, and everyone else took the more direct freeway into Canada. Through unplanned but excellent timing, we all met up at the rest area just north of the border, where we were confronted by this conundrum.

 It does seem rather counterintuitive, does it not? Confusingly played, Canada.

We found our way into Montréal after taking the wrong highway/road/bridge a time or two, checked into the charmingly named L'Auberge Hôtel de Montréal Manoir Ville-Marie, our little inn located inside an old post office. Definitely not a typical hotel, it leans toward a B&B with its mismatched furnishings and quaint vibe. Voilà, le bureau de poste.

 

 In French, "auberge" means "inn." In my head, auberge and aubergine are interchangeable. Here is a picture of our eggplant.

We all got back in the car to go downtown. We passed this delightful place (Mr. Fix-it) with the most endearing sign I think I've ever seen: "Nous restaurons tout - sauf les cœurs brisés!" or "We restore everything - except broken hearts!" 

 

Too bad the only needing fixing IS my heart...

My sister-in-law did the driving. My brother did the navigating. I'm pretty sure neither of them particularly appreciated how entertaining I found this, but... storytime. 

  

 Steering-wheel-white-knuckle-clench-map-of-white-hot-rage

My SIL and I are the only people in the family with what might generously be referred to as a working knowledge of the French language. I have been to France twice, and although my comprehension isn't the greatest, I can generally get around on my own, read a fair bit, and order food. Naturally, French is the primary language of Québec. As my brother was trying to navigate the streets of Montréal, he read the maps to his wife phonetically, and she corrected him under her breath by muttering the proper pronunciation of whichever streetname/attraction/exit he'd just named. This ongoing exchange (which lasted the entire stay in Canada) did not help us get anywhere faster, but it sure was funny from the backseat.

Vermont (Day 1)

The first day of my glorious, whirlwind North American adventure deposited my brother and me in Burlington, Vermont. We flew in on a plane full of marathoners ready to run the Vermont City Marathon, and we were nonplussed because, after all, we were awake at ungodly hours sitting on the floor of JFK Intl., hoping that the loudspeaker would just stop squawking. Not to mention the fact that running anything more than five miles sounds like torture to me.

We were collected by my college friend and co-wreaker-of-havoc from my Hawaii/NZ trip, Mel. Sam and I were both in the sleep-deprived travel haze, so Mel took us downtown and fed us lunch at a little deli. It's a bad state to be in, because I turn into a little robot and pretty much do what I'm told, as long as it doesn't require thinking or strenuous activity on my part. Then we walked the flooded shores of Lake Champlain (no sign of Champ) and Mel took us on a driving tour of Shelburne Farms until it was time to...

WATCH BARCELONA DESTORY MANCHESTER UNITED IN THE CHAMPIONS LEAGUE FINAL!!!!


We found an Irish pub stuffed to the gills with people decked out in jerseys and scarves (and not just clothing supporting FCB and MUFC either, but Welsh and Portuguese and all other sorts). We drank some beer, harassed the local Man U fans, and I screamed until my voice was hoarse. Barcelona 3-Manchester United 1.

Just the way I like it. :)

Eventually the family showed up and we had dinner together at the Vermont Pub & Brewery, which is the place that my brother and the internets tell me black IPA was invented. Delicious beer, delicious food.

After dinner we took the ferry across Lake Champlain to New York. It was cold and a little misty and we were not attacked by pirates (still no sign of Champ). We stayed in Plattsburgh, New York. We may or may not have bounced on the beds.

*I don't have pictures of this day because Sam hoarded the camera and we're both dumb when we're tired k.

Americana: Life in Color

I inherited my wanderlust from my parents. My dad loves to hike and explore nature for hours on end, and while my mom enjoys that, she usually leans more toward educational/historical attractions. Naturally, my family loves to roadtrip since everybody gets a little piece of their favorite activity.

Our last family roadtrip was in the summer of 2007. My mom and youngest siblings drove from Oregon to Wisconsin to collect my middle sister from school, then headed south. My dad, brother and I flew into Ohio to meet them. We drove all the way to like the third Florida Key and back to Oregon (9000 miles, if you were counting). To my family, this is not crazy. This is Adventure. Of course, if you were to ask them what it's like to travel with five of their six children, plus a friend of my sister's, they would tell you it's annoying. I'm pretty sure that's a lie, though, cuz I'm super-fun. Obviously. Especially in constricted living quarters.

Here's a few of my favorite pictures from the trip.

Hannah and Sam playing on the edge of the Cherohala Skyway in North Carolina


Imposing lady figure on some important building in Savannah, Georgia

For those of you familiar with Pirates of the Caribbean, this is my sister recreating the scene in which Tia Dalma casts the crustacean claws to divine the location of the Flying Dutchman. "A touch... of DESTINY!"

We were in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, eating bouillabaisse and other cajun delights.


A fishing pier in Ft. de Soto, Florida. My first sugar sand beach. :)

The sibs in front of a piece of the Berlin wall in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Home to the huge concrete Jesus.

I love going places. I hate being trapped in the city by nursing school. Most of the time. Nursing school is exciting. :)