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Canada: Just Like the States Except Not At All. — Go Jules Go


Go Jules Go Canada Just Like the States Exept Not At All Title Graphic_17APR19

“Hello. Bonjour,” a baby-faced, tow-haired man greeted, nodding curtly at me.

“Hello,” I answered to indicate that, while I was in fact learning French, I didn’t think ‘Where is the bathroom?’ and ‘My dog is beautiful and intelligent’ would be particularly helpful in this moment.

“Do you have any weapons, firearms, commercial goods?” he asked.

“No,” I replied easily, my hands resting on my steering wheel.

“Alcohol?”

“Yes, a case of wine.”

“I’m saw-ry, how much?”

I gulped. “A case…?”

“How many baw-tles is that?”

“Twelve. Well, eleven. I drank one last night.”

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Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, how many of these can I take to Canada, yo?

He raised his eyebrows and looked at the officer in the booth behind him. They began having a hushed conversation. He turned back to me, looking like he was trying not to smile.

“Are you planning to leave them all in Canada?”

“That was the plan,” I said, smiling nervously.

“Why do you have so much wine?”

You don’t get out of this booth much, do you, sir?

“Well, I’m visiting a friend and I thought I should be a good guest and not show up empty-handed… She’s having friends over this weekend to welcome me…”

I wasn’t entirely sure if this was true, but it could be true.

“The first two bottles are free, but you’re going to have to pay a duty charge on the others. You can decide if it’s worth it to keep them. Just pull to the left and go inside.”

$61.90 ($46.30 USD) later, I was back on the road to Nova Scotia, my bubbly safely nestled in my trunk where it belonged. What’s more, my cell service was as bright-eyed and bushy tailed as the border patrol officer (unlike during my most recent adventure…). Things were looking good.

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Really good.

When I hit the small university town of Wolfville, Nova Scotia, nestled an hour northwest of Halifax, I easily navigated the two blocks to my AirBnB apartment. As I was about to pull up the steep driveway, I saw a college-aged woman coming down the sidewalk. I paused to let her pass, but instead she knelt down at the corner of the driveway. My gaze followed her reach and I soon realized she was picking up a large branch that was lying in my path. She moved it aside and grinned at me.

It took me a moment to realize that she was not only offering roadside clean-up, but also allowing me, the non-pedestrian, to pass in front of her.

Oh holy cannolis. I am not in Jersey anymore.

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“Why come everyone is smiling, Mom?”

As soon as I unpacked, I checked my phone.

“I can pop over in a little bit to say hi and we can make a plan for tomorrow, if that works!” my most recent text read.

After years of communicating through our blogs and joking-but-not-really about me visiting, I was finally within a few short miles kilometers of one of my oldest bloggy friends, Sandy from Sandy the Social Butterfly. We’d never video chatted or talked on the phone, but I wasn’t worried. Over the years I’d had nothing but sparkly experiences meeting other bloggers in person.

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Thoughtsy and Go Jules Go.

Thoughtsy and Go Jules Go.

Second meeting.

Second meeting.

See?

Sandy arrived a few minutes later and immediately gifted me a bottle of her favorite Nova Scotian wine. Her stunning bright blue eyes sparkled and she was dressed to kill. Meanwhile, I was covered in 10+ hours of car funk and not sure if I’d remembered deodorant.

“I didn’t realize you’d be so tall!” she said.

And I’m only in sneakers, I thought. I didn’t miss my heels, which I’d left back in New Jersey, knowing my 3+ weeks in Maine and Canada wouldn’t call for them.

We gabbed enthusiastically before heading a few blocks downtown for a glass of wine, quickly falling into conversation like old friends. The waiter took our photo and made sure we’d promise to tell him if he should take another one.

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“Canadians are so nice it almost makes me uncomfortable,” I confessed to Sandy.

Over the next few days, Sandy showed me around town, took me to wineries, kicked my ass in her boot camp class, arranged a gorgeous hike, and introduced me to her friends. (Too bad they were real bitches.)

Go Jules Go Split Rock hike Nova Scotia_14APR2019
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Bitches.

P.S. – Even the dogs in Canada are nicer.

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~*~*~*~*~*~

How does it feel when you travel? Do the people start getting nicer…or not?

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