Brief Exchanges

During this trip, my exchanges with people have been quite brief but memorable, if only because my awareness of everything seems heightened when travelling.

As you know, my knowledge of French is laughable. I would be more able to cope in German, having taken it for two years at uni, but even that is not saying much.

For the most part, as soon as people hear me pronounce bonjour, they switch into English, god love them, but when I went into the SAQ yesterday in search of a local cider, and I responded in English to the employee’s offer to help me (presumably that is what she was offering when she said bonjour followed by some eloquent phrase I could not decode), she just shook her head and went in search of a young male employee who was better equipped to help me, if only to tell me that they had no individual cans of cider.

I appreciate the kindness people have shown in their efforts to converse in English, and I am at least able to thank them for such using my limited French. If only they wanted to hear me sing a song about Henri Leduc, which is the only French that ever floats into my head.

I have certainly had some interesting exchanges. Outside a store in Rigaud, on route from Hawkesbury to V-D on Thursday, an older woman with a heavy French accent asked if the bike was mine, and was it a pedal bike. Yes I said, it is powered only by me. Then she asked if I was a Scorpio. No, Sagittarius, I said, which means little to me beyond the fact that two of my closest pals are also Sagittarius, and we celebrate our birthdays together each year. Ah, she said, then you have to watch out for sciatica. Very big issue for Sagittarius. I reassured her that I was stretching diligently, then climbed back on my bike eager to navigate through the busy downtown, but I confess I did feel a twinge in my lower back as I walked downtown yesterday.

The other exchanges, or more aptly anti-exchanges, have been with the older male cyclists I have encountered on the bike paths. Most have a similar look, riding vintage racing bikes, and wearing cotton cycling caps rather than helmets, looking like riders of Eddy Merckx’ era. They don’t even make eye contact let alone say hello, as they pedal furiously with their bowed legs, perhaps living out races of bygone years. Oh yes, the patriarchal vibe is alive and well here in Quebec.

Well those are my brief musings for Saturday morning. Having fallen asleep before 9:00, I was awake again quite early, though to the sounds of trucks rumbling past rather than to birds gossiping. The skies have cleared here, but it is chilly and windy, so I am going to take a slightly shorter route to meet Christina, which she recommended. It is plenty hilly, though, so she will have to wait for me to catch up on each hill.

Enjoy the weekend everyone. Am missing my Saturday run with my squad. Hope it is sunny, and full of great conversation!

PS am including photo of the croissant I had yesterday. I mean I have to include at least one photo

Up With the Birds

If anyone is interested, the birds in Vaudreuil-Dorion seem to get up around 3:30 a.m., and they have a lot to talk about. So much chatter.

I was reminded of those times at school when an asinine decision was made on high (insert Ministry of Ed, board of ed, school admin as you see fit) which would affect the entire school community adversely. Word would spread like wild fire through each department office, and along the corridors between classrooms.

Once the chatter woke me, I decided I might as well get up, as, having seen rain and wind in the forecast for early afternoon, my goal was to be riding by sunrise. That gave me plenty of time to make a coffee, and to clear my head.

I stepped out into a cool but calm morning, with the first steaks of light in the sky, then got on the bike path that runs along the canal all the way from Pointe-des-Cascades to Cote’s-du-Lac. From there I took the bridge over Lake St Francis, which, mercifully, had a designated cycling lane that was blocked off from traffic.

Ontario could take some pointers from Quebec when it comes to cycling infrastructure. Out of my 160 km ride today, I would estimate that at least half of it was on paved bike paths. Yes , paved. For miles at a stretch. And in each small town, there were comfort stations. So civilized. No need to squat in the forest with the risk of falling over while being swarmed by the same pack of mosquitoes that stole my ID and was busily trying to order new iphones and to book hotels in my name.

When I wasn’t on paved bike paths, I was on roads with a well marked bike lane. That kept my stress level nice and low, which was good, given the bad weather that loomed ahead.

Really, the weather turned out to be fabulous until the final two hours when the rain began, and the wind started making its presence known.

Admittedly by the last hour, I was ready to get off the bike and stretch. I have tried to be more disciplined about stopping to stretch throughout the day, but I just kept grinding today, and my neck was protesting loudly.

I arrived in Farnham at 1:00, thinking I would have to kick around town for a few hours, but the owner was happy to check me in right away. She also offered to move me to a larger room without charge, so I would have space for my bike, but requested that I use only one of the beds. I reassured her that it was my habit to occupy only one bed per night.

I did my best to clean the bike before I brought it in, as she had been so gracious about allowing me to bring it inside, and then it was time to get myself cleaned up.

Feeling more or less human, I took a short walk into town where I found Yamaska Cafe, which was a bit mind blowing. Although the loaves of bread were beautiful, I pulled myself back from the abyss, and limited myself to a caprese sandwich, along with the last croissant of the day, which just happened to be chocolate and almond. The Parisian barista then made me the latte of a lifetime (or perhaps it is just a matter of what I have been calling coffee for the last week). Finally, I was off to Metro to buy some fruit and veggies, and breakfast for tomorrow.

By the time I got back to my cozy room, the skies had darkened, the temperature had dropped, and the wind had declared war on all trees in the area. For the next few hours it poured in earnest, leaving sizeable troughs of water on the road.

Then just as quickly as it arrived, it departed, leaving a world glistening and shuddering at the drop in temperature. I am almost glad for the storm, as it made me that much more happier that I had gotten up with the birds even if I had no idea what they were chattering about.

Now, with one eye closed, I must bid you all a good night.

The Drive Thru

Yes, there I was at 5:30, standing at the drive thru window at Burger King, just me and a couple of seagulls, watching the sky turn pink. Well, I was watching; I think they were more interested in finding breakfast.

Such was my the desire for coffee, that I headed to McDonald’s, as it was reportedly open 24 hours, but it turned out only the drive thru was open, and the young woman would not let me walk through. Sigh. Next stop was Burger King, where I saw several women sitting inside. That looked hopeful. Upon seeing me, one woman waved towards the side of the building. As it turned out, she was an employee, gesturing me to the drive thru window where she kindly took my order, then put on a fresh pot of coffee for me. I thanked her profusely when she handed me a towering cup of coffee, and she said, in the loveliest voice, it’s my pleasure. I found it hard to imagine anything would be a pleasure after being up all night, but she smiled with genuine kindness. I suspect French and English are perhaps her second and third languages, and there I was barely managing one language at that hour.

I have been reminded throughout this trip, as I was on my last one, that it is often new Canadians who are working in the service industry, resourcefully recreating their lives in this country that  I have the privilege of cycling across.

Not yet 6:00 a.m, and already my day felt complete, but I still had a long way to go. I ventured to the hotel breakfast room, and after relishing a bowl of Cheerios, and preparing a bagel with peanut butter and banana for later, I then happily stuffed my pockets with extra provisions like sticks of cheese and mini packets of Nutella. Oh the joy!

Though I have never been able to pop a wheelie, or perform any other such tricks, today I mastered opening and consuming a packet of Nutella while in motion. A small trick, but a trick nonetheless, which I learned after being unable to endure the pestering of blackflies whenever I stopped. Even the most divine treat loses its appeal when those flies are biting you.

I was on Rte 148 again for much of the morning, but I did take a short detour through the trails of Parc national de Plaisance, where I met two lovely women, Sandy and Tem, who are hiking from Ottawa to Montreal, as part of a group called Chemin Des Outaouais. The organization coordinates hosts for the hikers, and then the hikers pick up food for themselves as they go along. They could not believe how little I was carrying for such a long trip, and I could not believe how much stuff they seemed to be lugging in their many packs. While I loved the idea of their trek, I was happy enough to be moving at 20-30 kms/hr rather than 5-7 kms/hr.

With a solid tailwind, I was moving right along, though I knew the latter part of the day through the busy streets of Vaudreuil-Dorion would be slow. Also, as a result of discovering the Oka ferry was not running (thank the lord I checked), I had to create a new route, taking the bridge from Grenville to Hawkesbury, which was actually easier and faster than waiting for the ferry, then navigating  from Hawkesbury to Vaudreuil-Dorion, which meant stopping to check my map every so often.

Suffice to say the latter part of my day proved more stressful, especially when the skies suddenly opened, requiring a quick stop to put my rain gear on, but here I am, at Motel le Marigot, with my bike cleaned, my laundry done, and my eyes about to close. Once again, dear reader, bonne nuit!