JJB’s Ramblings

Recently, Roo and I ventured north of the border. No, I am not talking about Salisbury Ma, but rather the Canadian border. Why? Well, we figured that it was time to go back to America Jr. We made a fateful trip to the great white north a number of years ago on spring break. Actual conversation (not actual conversation):

Man, it’s march. Let’s go somewhere. 
Cancun?
No.
Back home?
No.
Canada?
CANADA!

We got up there and found 16 inches of snow. It was great. So we decided to give Canadia another shot as it has been five years or so and I think they knew we were coming.   We hit the road at the upper crack of dawn and made great time, arriving in Canada by 1130ish. On the way up, Roo told me about this restaurant, St. Hubert.  The reason he wanted to try it? His co-worker apparently told them that you could get chicken nuggets in a Lego-style chicken. Awesome. So, after checking in to the hotel, Roo asked the friendly desk folk where the nearest St. Hubert’s was. There was a pregnant pause where they looked at each other and then started laughing. “You want to go to St. Oobear? (typed with the French accent). Roo says, “Uh, yeah. A friend told me we should check it out.” “Oooh, no no no. Zare are ‘undreds of top restaurants in Mon’real, and you want to go to ST. OOOBEAR?” exclaimed our surprised check-ins. Roo, only slightly thrown off said, “But they have the Lego chicken things!” “Uh, yea, I sink that thoze are on zee keedz menu.” Roo, undaunted (though slightly flushed) said “But it is a LEGO chicken.”. Trying to make us understand, they said, “Eet is like us coming down  to Boston and asking where the nearest Friendly’s was.” Roo, done with this, says “Friendly’s is Good! Whatever. Where is it? Do you want anything?” So we left after being taunted by the desk staff in search of the closest St. Hubert. After about 20 min we finally found it. It was NOT a Friendly’s. It was even higher class than a Friday’s. It was nice, and respectable. Actually, I didn’t care if it was a dump, all I really wanted was poutine. Let me tell you, I was not disappointed. Perfect fries, tasty gravy and massive hunks of cheese curds . Spectacular. After stuffing our gobs with rotisserie chicken and poutine, we decided to walk it off. About 15 min later, we found ourselves in Montreal’s Chinatown, which was a lot of fun. About one block in we both stopped in our tracks, looked at each other and asked “What is that beautiful smell?!” Turns out it was the Chinese pastry shop which Roo was quickly dispatched too. He got us a sweet bun with cheese and almonds. I devoured it. Open mouth, stuff with pastry and repeat until it’s gone.

 We walked around Old Montreal and enjoyed all the sites including a Grill your own Sausage station complete with total stranger ok with you taking his photo, a Canadian tradition and spaceships, I mean old Olympic stadiums. In addition to that we got to brush up on our high school French, which really meant that anyone that spoke to us in French, we looked at and said “uh, Sorry, uh… parlez-vouz Anglais?” We were rock stars. On our way out of the country (after a nice breakfast, freezing our asses at the top of Mount Real and dropping some hard earned cash at the casino) we hit the road. On our way out, we decided that being good
US citizens we would declare our purchases.

Actual conversation (really, actual conversation):

Border Guard: Have you anything to declare?
Me: Yes. One Canada snow globe and a butter knife.
Border Guard: Globe and butter knife?
Me: Yes.
Border Guard: Purpose of visit?
Me: Pleasure. Clearly…. 

Bottom line? Go Canada.

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