Today would be my last day in Canada and I really wanted to visit Montreal. So I woke up at 5:00 am before the sun rose and headed out of the Provincial Park and drove east mainly staying off the main highway. I was also hoping I could be in Boston by today because it's still a very long way back to Houston.
Last night I actually did not pay $17 Canadian ($11 US) for the primitive campsite because I came very late and left very early. Okay, okay, I'm actually not the purest person in the world. When you don't pay, I believe you should do your best to make it seem like you were never there- which includes no littering (as always), no burning firewood, and definitely keep quiet.
I arrived in Montreal a little too early, and I was soooo tired. So I drove out of the city into a little town nearby and tried to find a place to rest. In this town kids were waiting for the bus. In fact, there were a lot of kids waiting for the bus- man, summer school must be torture. There was little public parking along the lake, but I finally found a strip where a couple of cars could park. But it was so difficult to sleep, so I just rested for about an hour. After the hour there was a guy hanging around outside, who must be a local, and I asked him how to get back to Montreal. Then he replied in French and I didn't really understand him except for the first couple of lines since he used his arms and fingers to mimic what he was saying. I just pretended I understood, thanked him, and moved out. It wasn't too difficult to find my way out.
After reaching the downtown area and seeing plenty of people walking around, I figured this would be a nice place to park the Cresseida and get to know the city. I walked around for a while and then ate at Subway. After than I headed to the bank to trade in the most of my Canadian money for US money. The teller greated with "Bon Jour," and I just said "Hi." I kept $10 Canadian just in case there was some toll roads or emergency. I think I got ripped off at the bank because the exchange didn't seem quite correct, it seemed short a couple of dollars.
There was a street behind the bank lined with shops and restaurants, so that was my next trip. I swear after being in downtown Toronto, I am now a little paranoid because some of the locals seems gay. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that. The downtown crowd here seems rather young.
Montreal is such a beautiful city- at least near downtown. I would have loved to have spent more time walking around, but needed to visit the local casino. I will be back here again to get to know this city more.
The casino is located on it's little island, and the bridge to the casino is a speed trap. I drive slow, but people were driving no faster than the speed limit. I felt almost guilty passing everyone. When you are a slow driver and you find yourself passing a lot of cars, something is fishy. On the other side of the bridge are officers with a speed gun. That was very sneaky of the city. Do not ever drive over 55 km/h through this speed trap.
I went in with only about $50, but didn't really want to play and trying to keep my promise of not playing for once. This casino is better than the one in Hull for blackjack because they didn't have many continous shuffle machines. The other minor benefit of playing here is each player's spot has a spot for people to bet with the player in the seat- which could encourage back counting. I stood around counting down a few of the 6 decks. Two shoes were consistently negative, but the players won most of the time because the dealer kept breaking.
The roulette tables here had single 0's.
Finally, I was heading south. So this is really the official start of heading home. I arrived in Vermont, and the border personnel was a very old lady. She only asked if I brought any fruits, and I said I ate it all.
There is a very noticable difference between the small towns in Canada and the US. The towns in Canada were clean and full of life with people walking down the street; however, the small US towns are a little dirtier and look jaded- everyone uses their cars to get around. Nevertheless, the highways in the US were very scenic up in the northeast and gasoline was definitely cheaper.
I drove through Maine and then into New Hampshire going south on Highway 113 which ran along a stream. I wanted to stay at the National Park camping area, but when I arrived almost at midnight, the camp host said it was $12 to set up a tent. Now, I don't see myself as a cheap person, but this was just way too expensive and not practical. However, the camp host and I chatted for about 30 minutes, and she was able to teach me a few things- and I may have found my next calling. She told me about how she became a camp host, and that peaked my interest. I'm actually considering spending a few months or a whole year being a host one of these days. Coincidentally, she was from Boston, and that's where I'm headed.
She mentioned that this camp site is very quiet except on weekends. It suddenly got it's popularity because some internet site gave it a very good review, and now there are more visitors here, but not all good campers. One time, there was a group of college-age kids who were so loud after dark that the state trooper had to be called in. That would be a bad night to stay, and I've never had the luck of running into a rowdy crowd, but that would change. In my opinion, you shouldn't go camping to do booze and have parties- that's what clubs and house parties are for- camping is an experience to relate to nature, to have those quiet moments to reflect on your life and what may lie ahead.
The camp host was very cool. She suggested I try the overflow camp site which was $4 or $6 somewhere else in the national forest, and if I couldn't find it, come back here and she'll give me a camp site. I found the dirt road she was referring to, but I couldn't find the camp site, so I decided to move on.
I considered parking along the side of the road along the stream, but it was pitch black outside. I don't know what possessed me, but I saw a cross along the road at 10:45 pm and absolutely no light except the Cresseida's headlights, and I left my car to see it. It was a historical gravestone of a soldier. As I headed back to the Cresseida, chills came to me and I started walking faster and faster until I ran. Fear was still with me until the Cresseida started moving. I just don't know why I decided to stop there and get out there, maybe curiousity, maybe foolishness.
Back when I wanted to study psychology, I learned that our actions can triggers our emotions, and not always our emotions our actions. Suppose a person is not feeling happy, if the person smiles, suddenly the person feels better because the smile just makes us want to feel good. Same with a frown- it can make us feel bad when we are not feeling bad. Well, when I started running, a fear rushed over me. Heck, I would have been scared if I had walked because my thoughts told me to be scared and make it to the car as soon as possible.
It was way too late, and I should have stopped somewhere a long time ago. I found a big dirt parking area in a small New Hampshire town and went to bed.
