HOME AT LAST! HOME AT LAST! THANK GOD! I'M HOME AT LAST!
Yesterday was a hair-raising day in more ways than one. My friend, John H, got me up at about 7 AM. I showered in a wonderful shower with the side jets. Our bathroom will have this feature some day! We drank a cup of coffee and were off, he to his job at the medical school and I on my way east to Ontario.
It was rainy, cold and windy as I left Chicago on the Indiana Toll Road and I wasn’t surprised to find that there was very little traffic heading east, although there was a back up on the westbound lane because of an accident.
As I entered Michigan on I-94, I head the news on my CB -- yes I have one in the car and it is an invaluable aid to travel on these long road-trips! -- that the eastbound lane was completely blocked with an accident involving a four-wheeler and three 18-wheelers. It sounded bad, so I decided to tell my GPS to find me a route which did not involve the freeway.
I find driving on the two-lane roads much more enjoyable than driving the freeways anyways. The speed and lack of interruptions (for the most part!) on the freeways is nice, but it is usually pretty boring!
In spite of deteriorating weather, I made it to the Bluewater Bridge in Port Huron and crossed over to Sarnia on the Ontario side by about 4:00 PM. I am always a little nervous at border crossings, but this day I was particularly excited. This was the first time I was entering Canada as a permanent resident, using my PR card as an ID. Also, I was bringing a bunch of my worldly goods with me.
I seem to have presented an unusual circumstance to the customs and immigrations people, but I won’t go into details here since I little understood what the problem was. What I WILL say is that if this had been US Customs and Immigration I seriously doubt I would have made it into the country given the fact that I was missing some documentation (like my car’s title!) and had no clue where they might be.
A handsome and helpful, young French Canadian customs guy was working with his colleagues to figure out how to get me into the country in spite of my documentation challenges. In the meantime I was trying to call Robbie to search for my title. As things transpired, it wasn’t necessary, and in less than 45 minutes, I was on my way again with a hand full of documents and instructions about what I need to do online when I got home.
I felt such a sense of relief and I steered my Chevy onto the 402, and thanked my lucky stars AGAIN that I have met and fell in love with a Canadian! Nevertheless, I did find it passing strange that no one even looked at my passport, PR card or the contents of my packed car during all this officiousness -- if I can even call it that. I must have one of those faces!
The drive to Woodstock was cautious and slower than normal. The roads were ice covered, there were white-outs and clumps of snow fell over the 401. As I approached the exit near Ingersoll, I noticed the traffic piling up ahead -- as it seems often to do around Woodstock -- so I exited and took the secondary road home to Woodstock. There was little traffic, and it felt peaceful and right to be driving through the night to my home and to my beloved on the snowy back roads of Oxford County, Ontario, Canada.
It was rainy, cold and windy as I left Chicago on the Indiana Toll Road and I wasn’t surprised to find that there was very little traffic heading east, although there was a back up on the westbound lane because of an accident.
As I entered Michigan on I-94, I head the news on my CB -- yes I have one in the car and it is an invaluable aid to travel on these long road-trips! -- that the eastbound lane was completely blocked with an accident involving a four-wheeler and three 18-wheelers. It sounded bad, so I decided to tell my GPS to find me a route which did not involve the freeway.
I find driving on the two-lane roads much more enjoyable than driving the freeways anyways. The speed and lack of interruptions (for the most part!) on the freeways is nice, but it is usually pretty boring!
In spite of deteriorating weather, I made it to the Bluewater Bridge in Port Huron and crossed over to Sarnia on the Ontario side by about 4:00 PM. I am always a little nervous at border crossings, but this day I was particularly excited. This was the first time I was entering Canada as a permanent resident, using my PR card as an ID. Also, I was bringing a bunch of my worldly goods with me.
I seem to have presented an unusual circumstance to the customs and immigrations people, but I won’t go into details here since I little understood what the problem was. What I WILL say is that if this had been US Customs and Immigration I seriously doubt I would have made it into the country given the fact that I was missing some documentation (like my car’s title!) and had no clue where they might be.
A handsome and helpful, young French Canadian customs guy was working with his colleagues to figure out how to get me into the country in spite of my documentation challenges. In the meantime I was trying to call Robbie to search for my title. As things transpired, it wasn’t necessary, and in less than 45 minutes, I was on my way again with a hand full of documents and instructions about what I need to do online when I got home.
I felt such a sense of relief and I steered my Chevy onto the 402, and thanked my lucky stars AGAIN that I have met and fell in love with a Canadian! Nevertheless, I did find it passing strange that no one even looked at my passport, PR card or the contents of my packed car during all this officiousness -- if I can even call it that. I must have one of those faces!
The drive to Woodstock was cautious and slower than normal. The roads were ice covered, there were white-outs and clumps of snow fell over the 401. As I approached the exit near Ingersoll, I noticed the traffic piling up ahead -- as it seems often to do around Woodstock -- so I exited and took the secondary road home to Woodstock. There was little traffic, and it felt peaceful and right to be driving through the night to my home and to my beloved on the snowy back roads of Oxford County, Ontario, Canada.