Je pense qu'il est important dans un blog qui est au sujet du déplacement dans tout ce grand pays, celui là soit au moins un certain respect montré à la deuxième langue officielle - en particulier comme nous sommes arrivés au Québec aujourd'hui. (En disant ceci, je n'ignore pas les nombreux, beaucoup de langues indigènes qui sont protégées indirectement par S. 35 de la Loi de constitution, mais c'est impossible pour moi d'identifier dans tout sens linguistique). Ainsi, c'est un privilège d'être dans la maison primaire des francophones canadiens, et nous avons déjà relevé des défis linguistiques modestes en tant que Canadiens anglophones (plus à ce sujet dans un moment). Mais pour maintenant, je célèbre la société distinct dans le Canada qui est le Québec, et peux il toujours être ainsi!
And, then, to carry on in English.... Our day began with a photo op of the bikes along the shore of Lake Huron, in what was another morning of wonderful, glistening, shimmering light, with that hint of crispness in the air that remains even though the early morning summer sun is doing its best to assume control of the day.
Then off without breakfast to get a 100 kms or so in first. Like yesterday, a great first-of-the-morning ride. Stopped for breakfast in Sturgeon Falls; even though we are well within Ontario still - west of Sudbury for heaven's sake - increasing numbers of persons are speaking French.
Then off through endless little towns/villages scattered along "highway" 17 - between construction, and 60 kmh town speed zones, it's slow going. Amused by some town names - "Spanish" and "Espanola", but many others.
Blew past Sudbury (no great regrets there), but also North Bay, which is very pretty. Stopped in Matawa (just east of North Bay) for lunch and - serendipitously - Myrt's Restaurant had an entire wall done up with a painting of a railway engine. We sat under the painting, and took pictures of our railway baron, George (hmmm, last night I had him as a country squire, today a baron, and throughout a Knight of the Open Road - somewhere in all that the fellow must be royalty... and, yes, Sheri, that makes you Queen - or something almost as good - in more than just George's heart..)
Saw a ferocious black bear along the way, and only narrowly missed being viciously clawed to death (jim made me say that, the "viciously clawed to death" part...). Actually, passing cars were taking photos.
Eventially reached the nation's capital. Jim had hoped to find Minister Flaherty, and Prime Minister Harper, in order to explore a couple of issues about which he feels strongly. Alas, they weren't returning our calls (I'm not surprised they wouldn't want to tangle with Goertz!)
Bob and I had something of a "busman's holiday" as we parked the bikes directly in front of the Supreme Court of Canada building. Sadly Chief Justice McLachlin wasn't there to greet us (though, in all seriousness, I expect that if she and her husband, Frank, had known of our arrival, they would have been good sports about coming out to say hi).
Another wonderful thing about this great country is that the central institution of the 3rd branch of government has no visible security. I know from visiting after hours that there are security folks inside the east door, but I think it's great that we don't project an armed fortress mentality. Washington D.C. - Jo-Ann and I found out about a year ago - is a very different place, with a very different apparent dominant mentality regarding security. Our Constitution is built around "peace, order, and good government" - what a different approach than that taken by a state born in armed revolution, and which enshrines a constitutional right to bear arms.
But back to the trup!... next stop 3 blocks away at the Parliament Buildings. Pictures of the four of us standing in front of the democratic seat of the nation; Flat Stanley insisted on a solo shot.
Then off towards Quebec. Caught the "bienvenue a Quebec" sign, then on towards Montreal. Wanted to get to the east side of Mntreal so we could get a quick start away in the morning without fighting coming-into-town traffic. So we phoned a motel in Terrebonne, just east of town. Jim passed me the phone after he discovered the proprietor spoke no English. After she and I discussed the fact that "il faut que vous parlez lentement parce ce que je ne parle pas tres bien the francais" ("Je viens de la Colombie Britanique", etc...), we established that we needed "deux chambres, avec deux lits, chacun - quatres hommes, quatres lits". She gave a "very good" price, and then we travelled 60-odd kms in the dark on the highway around Montreal to get there. When we checked in, there was a delightful moment in which she (no doubt flummoxed by my terrible French) stumbled on her own French in a way I could discern, so we had a good laugh.
anyway, a very, very long day - even more than the 945 kms or so would suggest. Tomorrow Baie-Comeau?.. and the ferry to Gaspe?
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