Canada

August 3, 2010

Seems like we were there a long time ago (a week) and we’ve seen a lot since, but we LOVED the Finger Lakes area of New York. When Dave rode his bike across the United States this was the one area he wanted to come back to. I can see why. It is an area of five or more lovely lakes with pockets of population, pretty homes, beautiful gardens and flowers. People always ask us which area do we find the most beautiful. Now we have to say Utah AND the Finger Lakes.

The RV parks in upstate New York are filled with people staying for the summer. Hard to do a map for those parks. Actually, we are having such a good time, feeling like we are really on vacation, or finally retired (!), that I don’t want to work anymore! Dave is hoping the feeling will pass … and it probably will, although I don’t see the potential for mapping this part of the northeast.

Crossing the border into Canada was uneventful, except the official kept asking us if we had any guns. Do we look like people who have guns? We laughed for miles remembering the story about Larry Baker. When they asked Larry at the border if he had anything to declare, he declared “Amnesty for all!!” I can’t remember how long they were detained.

We thought the stiff attitude was just the border guard, but we encountered the same demeanor from folks in Ontario. My smile is still kind of a sneer, so I tried to make my eyes soft and friendly. Dave’s jokes did not go over well.

The roads are bad. Hwy, 20 East between Montreal and Quebec are every bit as bad as Jackson, Mississippi. We had a hard time finding an RV park reasonably close to where Andre and Louise live. Many parks can’t accommodate us: “Ure equeepmen ees too beeg!” Dave is dealing with it very modestly.

We finally found a “Camp Transit” near Levi on the South side of the St. Laurence River about 12 miles downriver from Quebec City. It is a 230 site park (with four washers!) almost full every day. Construction workers all take their vacation the last two weeks of July, which could explain some of our problems finding a park.

We are having the same culture shock in Quebec that we had in Georgia six years ago. It is not what we thought we knew. We thought Quebec City was maybe mostly french. Wrong. Quebec City is totally, rigidly french in every way. The civil laws are french, all the signs, packaging and instructions are in french and an english speaking person is not very welcome. Ontario met us with open arms compared to Quebec.

Everything is a little bit of a struggle for us, because we don’t know the language. For example, we could not spend as much time in the old part of the city because we could not find a parking space. We could not understand all the instructions on the parking signs. So we will probably not explore more of the province, but we are loving our experience here in the city. Andre and Louise Vachon graciously had us to their lovely condo for a wonderful meal and visit. And yesterday they took us to St. Raymond to look at my grandfather’s birthplace and where he grew up. Johnny Vachon, my mother’s father, was one of 13 children (9 boys); his brother Alexandre was Archbishop of Ottowa, a very well known, progressive leader in the Catholic world. Andre has published a book about Alexandre and is gathering information about John, Peter and Andrew Vachon, who went to Alaska at the turn of the 19th Century.

It has been wonderful to see the roots of my mother’s family. (And maybe my father’s as well – Louise is a Plamondon. Simon Plamondon was a french trader who married into the Cowlitz Tribe; his daughter married Michael Cottenoire.)

The gulf between English speaking and French speaking has existed since the earliest settlements here, although it apparently was not a point of contention in the early days. My great grandmother, Mary Davidson, was a protestant from Ireland, who spoke only english. Immigrants were so wanted it didn’t seem to matter what language they spoke. Although the Vachon children grew up with both french and english spoken in the home, there was only one religion; Mary converted, without her parents approval.

Andre’s family was also from St. Raymond. along the St. Anne River, and he was able to bring boyhood memories to our tour yesterday. It was an unforgettable journey and Andre and Louise themselves are the real treasures of our trip. We share core beliefs and values and are very glad we are family. We could be happy living next door to them. Alas, we cannot read the lease, so we will have to move on.

Quebec City is full of Volkswagens! We have never seen so many! And more cyclists than Eugene, Oregon! We realize that Canada has a short summer, but we find it extraordinary to see so many walkers and cyclists, and the downtown parks are large and full of families, strolling and picnicking. RV parks are full of Canadian families (mostly Quebec plates) on extended stays. Maybe these are the same folks who spend six months each winter in Florida! The rate of exchange is almost even but we find the prices high. Gas is $4 per liter, and my $l coke is $2.30. We have made some great discoveries, most by accident. Trying to order in a small restaurant last week, we ended up with a strange soggy plate of what sort of looked like french fries. Lucky us! They are poutines, a french fry served with chunks of white cheese and a delicious sweet, beefy sauce. So good!

It’s all good, dear friends. Today we are taking the ferry across the river to old town Quebec City, to walk and browse. We think of you with love.

Sam and Dave