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Oct. 28, 2005 In the last few days of May, 1991, when I had been in Germany and Western Europe generally for about two months, I decided to continue on my way. I had considered spending three more months in Frankfurt, but everything was so expensive there I finally decided that it wasn’t worth it. I had an open-date ticket on Lufthansa Airlines with a destination of Montreal, so I went to a travel agency in Frankfurt and had them schedule the flight. I had flown into Germany from Egypt with a bicycle counting as one piece of baggage, but I bought a new bicycle in Frankfurt, which was a mistake. It was too expensive and began to fall apart in three or four months. Anyway, one Sunday morning, I got on my bike with two large heavy bags strapped to the rack in back and cycled out to awesome Frankfurt Airport, which seemed to be almost as big as LAX. I was lucky to find my terminal in time. In addition to the outrageous prices in Germany, like $7 or $8 for a plate of fried rice and $1 for 7 ounces of coffee, I didn’t like the persistently cool weather. It seemed just impossible to expect a day when the temperature was over 60 and the sky not streaked with clouds. I rationalized to myself that I didn’t really know North American prices either, and maybe coffee would be a $1 a cup in Canada as well. Also, I figured that it was probably still in the 50’s in Canada too. Canada certainly isn’t Key West, after all. We must have flown at least ten hours, but we were almost keeping up with the Sun. We arrived at Maribel International Airport at about 1 PM, as if only 3 hours had passed. I figured I’d be exhausted in this long day, but I felt great. When I went through customs at the airport, I told them I had $15,000 on me, so they gave me a six-month visa, though I was not contemplating more than a short visit to Montreal. Outside, it was warm and sunny, without a cloud in the sky. Who would ever imagine I’d have been thankful to get to tropical Montreal? I was annoyed to learn that Maribel is 55 kilometers (30 miles) outside of Montreal. With my two big heavy bags and mountain bike tires, I could expect 4 or 5 hours of cycling. But I started anyway. Long before I got to Montreal, when I was in a town called Rosemère, I got a flat tire. I was just too lazy at that moment to take everything down and apart and change the tube. I noticed a typical motel right nearby with rooms for $39 Canadian, whic was then about US $30. I decided I would just rent a room, and worry about the bike later. I stayed there a week. This was a truly beautiful spot. I was within a quarter-mile of the Rivière des Mille-Îles, which is a branch of the St. Lawrence River flowing through Montreal’s northern suburbs. The river, in English the ‘River of the Thousand Isles’, is very fitly named. Visible from the highway were lovely little green islands grown with weeping willows trailing their osiers in the water. One could not ask for a more beautiful scene, but I’d hate to be there in January. Coffee turned out to be 50 cents for 10 ounces, much more like what I was used to. Everyone around there spoke French and was very well-behaved, if not entirely affable. This was a very fashionable, spacious suburb, immaculate and serene. I cycled to downtown Montreal and back three or four times during the week. It was a two or three hour ride each way, about half of which was out in the country, very scenic and enjoyable. I went down there mostly to change money and redeem travelers’ checks, but I also shopped at two fashionable department stores called Eaton’s and La Baie, sightseeing at random. Montreal is very hilly, and in some spots, like Trafalgar Heights, I had to dismount and walk the bike. Eventually, I went to Greyhound Station in Montreal and bought a ticket for New York City. Then one morning I packed up my stuff, cycled three hours to the station, put the bike in a cardboard box and, in the evening, got on a bus bound for New York City. We passed through customs at the US border without a problem, arriving at the Port Authority Bus Terminal at Eighth Avenue and 42nd Street on Manhattan Island at around 8 AM. I cycled right out and headed for Washington Square, in Greenwich Village, where I thought I might see some people I knew from my previous 4 years in New York. I’ve been in Canada 4 times all told, with this visit and three other visits to Winnipeg, Windsor and Quebec City. ------------ About the author Thomas Keyes: I have written two books: A SOJOURN IN ASIA (non-fiction) and A TALE OF UNG (fiction), neither published so far. I have studied languages for years and traveled extensively on five continents. Email: udikeyes@yahoo.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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