What a difference a day makes. We woke up in the hotel all right. I suggested that we get breakfast before showering and packing up so we did. We had a lost-in-translation moment: the receptionist told us that they have a “small” breakfast in the mornings but we understood that to mean a “short” breakfast because of the way that “petite” can be used in French. It was, in fact, a small breakfast.
At the coffee machine, I punched in a French Vanilla. I got a cup full of hot French vanilla coffee-mate. The option I should have chosen was Café French Vanilla. Again, another small lost-in-translation moment. Ordering a coffee and breakfast sandwich at the first Tim Horton’s we saw on the highway proved to be a complicated experience, too.
After we sorted that out, got some coffee in us, and ate a bit, we drove out of Quebec and into New Brunswick. Almost immediately we felt better. That artificial border changes people. During the entire drive, the sun was shining and the clouds floated gently in the sky. Our conversations were vibrant and our stops were pleasant. As the sun was setting we arrived at the Confederation Bridge, an engineering marvel that I’m in awe of.
After getting lost on the roads of PEI and driving down a bulldozer lane way, we found our way to our resting place for the week. We were welcomed with open arms, given a drink, and took a couple of hours to chat. Now, it’s time for bed.
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