… of this rubbish might recognise this bridge, because we’ve seen it before.
Back in 2010 in fact when we were on our way to Montreal and then Labrador.
It’s called the Thousand Islands Bridge, because there are a whole load of islands, maybe even a thousand, in the St Lawrence River just around here.
Back then, we saw the bridge from the Great Satan side of the river and you may well be surprised to learn that today, I am once more on the Great Satan side.
And it took all of my self control and restraint to do it too.
This morning I was up some time after the alarm went off and had a few things to do – such as a shower and to have breakfast, and to catch up on yesterday’s paperwork.
By 08:00 I was on my way, exactly as planned – something that surprised even me. I was decanted straight into the morning rush hour, but then that was only to be expected. While it is always a disappointment to be held up like this, I had made due allowance.
Once I’d cleared the rush-hour traffic, which took 50 minutes to clear 10 kilometres, I was able to bowl along quite rapidly.
Flying down Highway 40 I went past several villages that I had previously not noticed.
So which one of these is your favourite village? St Zotique? St Polycarpe? Or St Telesphore? They don’t half have some weird names for some of the villages in Quebec.
But there again, Quebec is a very strange place, as you might already have discovered.
It’s about 350 kilometres from where I was staying to Kingston in Ontario.
And despite having stopped for fuel and a coffee, and taking a little detour around the old canal on the edge of town I was in Kingston for just after 12:00.
That was well in advance of my appointment and so I was able to go for a little walk around the town – and make a decision that it’s one of those places that I will have to come back to visit when I have more time.
And here is Sandra, making the acquaintance of Strawberry Moose.
And while that was going on, let me tell you a story.
My Great Grandfather was a soldier who served in the Wiltshire Regiment in India and South Africa and fought in the Boer War. But some time in the early years of the 20th Century he and his family emigrated to Canada and lived in Montreal.
He enlisted in World War I despite being well over age, and presumably died of wounds because his body is in the Military Cemetery at Mount Royal under a military headstone, despite not dying until the early 1920s.
His wife hated Canada, the cold, and all of that and so as soon as her husband was buried, she was on the next boat back to London.
They had several kids and the youngest kids, one of whom was my grandmother, returned to the UK with their mother.
A couple of the older children were by this time married and they remained behind with their own families. And when I was looking into the military history of my great grandfather I came across Sandra, who is the grand-daughter of one of the older children who remained in Canada.
And so she’s my cousin at several times removed.
As you know, this may well be the last time that I shall be in North America, and I’ve been doing all of the things that I’ve been meaning to do.
Meeting up with Sandra was high on my list, and so here we were, in Kingston, having lunch together and swapping family histories.
After lunch I headed off to Great Satan. And we had the usual border confrontation with a rude, ignorant security guard, who demanded to know what I was laughing at.
They really must trawl the Government Services to find the most unpleasant civil servants, and put them in these immigration booths
However, the guy in the office was quite pleasant and polite, and here I am.
But why am I here? You might well ask.
As I said just now, there are several tasks that I want to perform and several people whom I want to see before I go back to Europe – one person in particular whom I haven’t seen since 2005.
So here I am in the Rodeway Motel on the edge of Syracuse in New York State, conveniently placed on the side of Interstate 81.
From here, Strider, Strawberry Moose and I have about 1,000 miles to go and it’s going to take a couple of days to get there because I’m not able to go as fast as I used to.
It will give him enough time to head for the hills, otherwise he might be getting a surprise visit in two or three days time.
is definitely one of the top three Carry On films ever made and the scene where Big Heap alias Charles Hawtrey dashes into the saloon and shouts “Gold Strike at Bear Creek” still has me in stitches even now.
