The End

13 July

And so it comes to this.  The end.  It’s been a little over 9 months but this evening we fly home. 

We pack our suitcases (we’re dumping off a lot of stuff, so it’s a fairly easy job) and head into Manhattan for a bit of sightseeing.  First stop is Ground Zero.  There’s still not much to see here.  It’s just a big construction sight, scheduled to finish in 2013 I think. 

From here we cut across to walk up the banks of the Hudson River.  After an hour or so we’re hungry and find a posh diner for lunch.  I didn’t know there was such a thing, but the food is good so we’re happy.

Next we ascend to the High Line Park.  This used to be freight railway line running above the streets of Manhattan.  It had been disused for a long time and was due to be torn down when some bright sparks came up with a better idea.  It’s been turned into park, providing a lovely green space in a city that desperately needs them. 

It’s a lovely place to relax and provides some great views of the skyline.

Back on ground level we cut across Manhattan to meet the East River and then follow the river round to the Manhattan Bridge.  We somehow manage to bypass any cool areas and seem to spend hours walking through gritty, inner city neighbourhoods.  Hot and tired – we really have walked the city flat today – we hop the subway back to our hotel to pick up our car.

We’re at the airport now, both with mixed feelings.  I’m looking forward to seeing family and friends (and not living out of a suitcase), but given half a chance I’d turn around and do it all again backwards. 

We’ve visited 7 countries, travelled over 30 thousand miles by road, taken 15 flights (with one more to go), survived one nasty car crash and had the time of our lives. 

Thanks for keeping up with us and we’ll see you all soon.

Things I have loved:

Sunshine, mangoes, meeting dolphins at Monkey Mia, snorkelling at Ningaloo, space, the Wild in South Africa, swimming in waterfalls at Litchfield, starry skies, beer and movies outside the tent on our inflatable chairs, lots of sunrises and sunsets, crazy animals (especially hippos), Broome, hiking at Storms River Mouth, toasted sandwiches on the Barbie, proper braais in South Africa (what the Australians call a bbq is just a big hotplate – it’s convenient, but just not the same), Windhoek lager, thunderstorms, Kasuga, seeing family again after too long, sparkling shiraz and churros in Barossa valley, koalas on the great ocean road, surfing, sailing the Whitsundays, rainforest and coral sea, Port Douglas, swimming with dolphins in Akaroa, cramponing over glaciers, cheeky seals at Abel Tasman, Mac’s brewbars, outdoor tables with built-in fires, dragging myself up Mt Taranaki, Monteiths Summer Ale, kayaking around Maraehako Bay, St Clair’s Pioneer Block Sauvignon Blanc, picking fresh Walnuts,  Little India, Vanuatu – everything about it, being ‘hunted’ by baby reef sharks, sunsets on Waikiki beach, sweet potato fries, American pickles, sea turtles, papayas, mangoes, bananas, avos…growing in the garden, bat rays, baseball, Tucson in the fading light, canyonlands, the Rocky Mountains, Victoria, £10 Levi jeans, cycling in the rain, proper Mexican food and so much more.

The End

Janet & Nick

Cape Cod – New York

7 – 12 July

Thursday:

We’re leaving Boston today and heading for Cape Cod.  We’re driving right past Plymouth and so figure we may as well call in and see Plymouth Rock.  Although not mentioned in any accounts at the time, Plymouth Rock is traditionally taken as the place the Mayflower Pilgrims disembarked.  In the past it was broken in half and moved from its original resting place, but now it is repaired and housed in a grand granite structure on the seashore. 

Nearby is a replica of the Mayflower.  On top of the hill overlooking all of this is a statue of Chief Massasoit who assisted the Plymouth Colony.  I wonder if he would regret that now.  Thanksgiving Day is also National Day of Mourning for many Native Americans – and with due cause.

On that sobering note we leave Plymouth and continue south.  Before long we’ve crossed over the man-made canal that separates Cape Cod from the mainland.  I’d kind of expected a sudden and dramatic shift in scenery, but we’re still on a major motorway so we can’t really see much.  We drive all the way to Provincetown right on the tip of the peninsula.  It’s a cheerful place and we spend an hour walking the bustling main street. 

We drive across to the other side of town where an observation deck gives us great views out to sea.  The peninsula is so narrow here we can make out sea on both sides.  It’s about 4.30 but it’s still roasting hot and with all this sea about I’m determined to have a swim.  We find a suitable spot at Race Point Beach – a long, wide beach backed by dunes.  The water is calm and warmer than I was expecting. 

We spend a perfect hour swimming and sunbathing and then head back to the car.  We’re staying halfway up/down the peninsula and it’s going to take us over an hour to drive back to our motel in Hyannis.  It’s after 7 when we arrive so we decide to have a quiet night and leave the exploring for tomorrow.

Janet adds: I saw a thing of beauty in the supermarket today: a barrel of help-yourself giant pickles.

Friday:

We’ve come to Cape Cod primarily for the beaches, so it’s not a good sign when we wake up to a dull, grey day.  We procrastinate a bit, waiting to see which way the weather is going to go before we head out for the day.  It gets darker and darker and then the heavens open and it belts it down.  The rain does eventually let up and we’re hoping that’s cleared the air.  It’s still not beach weather, but Cape Cod has an excellent system of bike trails.  We decide to tackle the Cape Cod Rail Trail – a 22m (one way) paved trail following an old railway line.  We’re not quite arrogant enough to think we can man the 44m round-trip, but luckily for us there’s a convenient entry point – complete with bike rental kiosk – about 9 miles up.  It’s slow going getting there as this morning’s downpour flooded some roads, but before too long we’re kitted up.  I can’t remember the last time I rode a bike, so I go for the geeky helmeted look. 

After a slightly wobbly start on my part we’re soon cruising along nicely.  It is fairly easy going (i.e. mostly flat) and Nick starts showing off.

After about 6 miles we detour into a little town to pick up some sandwiches to eat in the park.  My thighs are starting to take a bit of strain, but there’s still a long way to go.  Another 6 miles or so takes us to the end of the trail.  We’d optimistically brought our swimmers with us in case it brightened up enough to make a little side-trip to the beach.  No such luck.  The sky is darkening ominously again, so we spin ourselves around and start back.  We haven’t gone very far when the rain comes again.  And boy does it come.  We try seeking shelter under a tree, but it’s no good.  We’re soon soaked through. 

There’s nothing for it but to keep going in the rain.  It’s wicked fun and I feel 5 years old again splooshing through the puddles.  At one dip in the trial the water is so deep it covers our pedals.  It does eventually stop, but we’re dripping and squelching when our quivering thighs finally deliver us back to our car.  Luckily we had the foresight to pack some dry clothes just in case.  Back at the hotel we warm up with tea and hot showers and then collapse.

Saturday:

We have better luck with the weather today and it soon warms into a hot, sunny day.  There’s a beach in more or less walking distance, so we check out of our motel and head down there.  There’s plenty of beach to go around and the water is lovely, but a cheeky crab soon chases me back to the sand with a swift pince to the toe.

After lunch we drive off the peninsula to Newport, Rhode Island.  Here we stroll along the cliff-top (they use the term cliff loosely) walk that takes in beautiful sea views on one side and grand holiday homes on the other.

Although we’re more distracted by the slightly suicidal surfers braving the waves just off the rocks.

It’s late afternoon and we’ve still got a bit of a drive to our motel just outside of Providence.  We’d planned to stay in tonight, but the motel is a bit of a dump so we take a drive into Providence instead.  It’s a nice enough little city and there’s some kind of street festival on, so there’s a bit of atmosphere.  We stuff ourselves on great pizza and then call it a night.

Sunday:

It’s another hot day today and we’re determined to max out our beach time.  Easier said than done.  We spend hours driving around trying to find a beach that isn’t ‘for residents and their guests only’.  They don’t like strangers around here and they make that abundantly clear.  We’ve always found Americans to be welcoming and friendly, whereas here we get surly stares.  After 2 hours we give up and cross into Connecticut.  It’s lunchtime by the time we finally arrive at Hammonasset Beach.  There are loads of people here but there’s a lot of beach. 

It’s hot, hot, hot and within a couple of hours we’ve had enough.  We drive on to New Haven.  It’s a bit ghetto and makes an unlikely location for Yale University.  Still, it has some beautiful old buildings and a memorial to the Amistad survivors who won their legal battle for freedom in New Haven.

We have a bit of a wander around, but it’s a Sunday evening and most things are shut so we head to our somewhat dodgy motel (I’m always suspicious when the reception desk is enclosed in bulletproof glass).

Monday:

Our drive today takes us out of Connecticut and into New York – our 20^th and final state of this trip.  Since we’ve got the car we figure we may as well head past NYC and explore Long Island a bit.  This is easier said than done as we spend most of our time chugging along a busy interstate.  We take in a few shops, get lost in suburbia trying to find a petrol station and eventually get spat out onto the beach in the late afternoon.  This is our first real glimpse of Long Island and it is beautiful.  Green countryside dotted with calm inlets and surrounded by miles and miles of beach.  Our late arrival has spared us a hefty parking charge and it’s still plenty warm enough to be on the beach. 

As the afternoon draws in we figure we’d best start heading back to the city.  In theory we should be going the opposite way to the worst of the traffic, but we hadn’t factored in a multi-car fender-bender bringing the traffic to a near standstill.  It’s getting late when we finally get to our hotel, so we get checked in, tidy ourselves up and head out.  We’re staying in Brooklyn, but the Lewisham end of Brooklyn.  A short ride on the subway gets us to the cooler end where we manage to pick the worst bar on the street for a drink.  We redeem ourselves by finding some delicious (and cheap) Thai food.

Tuesday:

We’re spending the day in Manhattan, but as we’ve both been to New York before there’s no need to take in all the touristy sights.  We head to MoMa for a good dose of culture.  It’s very busy and quite hard work, but the collection is excellent.   There’s also a really good display on South African Print Art since 1965. 

We emerge a couple of hours later and get some lunch from a deli (I manage to order the greasiest item on the menu, which takes some doing at a New York deli).   We spend the afternoon walking down 5th avenue and poking around the grand old department stores.  When our legs give out we hop the subway down to Greenwich Village.  We walk through Washington Square and it’s so hot that people are cooling down in the fountain.

We spend another couple of hours winding our way through the streets and then rest our legs while we have a drink.  Heading off to find some food we witness a natural phenomenon.  We just so happen to be in New York in time for Manhattanhenge (no, I’m not making this up!).  This happens twice a year and is when the setting sun perfectly aligns with the east-west street grid.

For our last night out (sob) we decide to get some Mexican.  This turns out to be a bit of a mistake.  It’s not great.  I get a plate of melted cheese dotted with some carrot and broccoli.  Sigh, or maybe I’m just sulking.  Then it’s time for the long subway trip back.  We’ve got a lot to sort out before we leave tomorrow.

Burlington – Boston

1 – 6 July

Friday:

Since we didn’t get a chance to check out Burlington yesterday we decide to go and have a look around this morning.  It’s a lovely town full of nice looking shops, cafes and restaurants.  It’s situated on the banks of Lake Champlain and as the sun is out again we have a stroll along the waterfront.  Conveniently enough they’ve placed big wooden swinging chairs along the front, perfect for whiling away some time in the sun. 

I could stay here all day, but we’ve got plenty more to do.  It’s about time we dust off our hiking boots and get some walking in.  We’ve found some good walking about an hour away in Underhill State Park.  The drive takes us through picture-perfect countryside.  Vermont is all lakes, rivers, forests and mountains liberally sprinkled with red barns with white trim and villages of wood-paneled buildings.

The plan is to climb up Mt Mansfield to take in the views.  It’s clouded over by the time we arrive but we set off anyway.  The walk takes us through forest and it’s very muddy underfoot.  It’s a 6.6m round-trip and so about 3 of those miles are uphill.  It gets steeper as we go, with us scrambling over slick rocks.  Finally we break the tree line for views of er, the inside of a cloud. 

Never mind, it’s been fun anyway.  Now for the hard work of getting back down.  Back at the car we drive round the other side of the mountain to Stowe where we’ll be spending the night.  Our drive just happens to take us past the Cold Hollow Cider Mill, so we pop in to sample the fresh (soft) cider.  It’s delicious, and after all that hard walking we’ve done it seems we deserve a treat, so we try some of their famous cider doughnuts (more like round spiced apple cakes than doughnuts, but tasty).

Oh, it seems that the Ben & Jerry’s factory is along this road as well and they offer tours.  It would be wrong not to have a look in.  The factory is great and although Ben & Jerry’s is now a corporate giant owned by Unilever the story of it’s humble beginnings is fascinating.  The tour does also include a delicious, wicked sample.

Stuffed full of treats we head for our little country motel right on the banks of a river.

Saturday:

And the treats don’t stop.  We get breakfast at our motel and there are scrambled eggs! Sausages! Mini-blueberry pancakes with maple syrup!  What bliss.  It’s Independence Day weekend and we’re struggling to find reasonable accommodation in the places we want to be.  A couple of hours this morning is spent desperately trawling the internet.  Eventually we find something and we can get going.  We’ve got some more walking planned for today, this time in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.  New Hampshire’s motto is ‘Live Free or Die’ and by all accounts they’re somewhat anti-rules.  For example, it’s not compulsory to wear a seatbelt while driving if you’re over 18.  We decide to keep ours on anyway.

It’s about lunchtime when we arrive and it’s a hot, sunny day so it’s a pleasure to be out in nature.   I’ve hastily picked a 9m walk and it’s after 1pm so we’ll have to put on a bit of pace.  I’ve read that the walk is class 1 (fairly easy going), so it shouldn’t be a problem.  Ha!  This is up, up and then more up.  After 2.7 thigh-quivering miles we break the tree line but we’ve still got another 1.1m to go to the summit of Mt Lafayette, the highest point of the trail.   On the plus side it’s a clear day and the views are astounding.  From the summit we can see for miles in every direction – layers upon layers of forest-covered mountains.

From here we walk along the Franconia Ridge, spiking up briefly to take in the summits of Mounts Lincoln and Little Haystack.  Finally we start heading down.  This is the easy bit right?  Wrong.  It’s steep and rocky and goes on forever.  Just when we’re in serious danger of running out of juice the path meets up with a stream and follows it.  We’ve got to scramble down alongside it, several times crossing the water using stepping-stones.  If anything it’s even harder going, but the stream drops into a serious of beautiful waterfalls, which makes it all worthwhile.

Over 5 hours after we set off we finally hobble back to the car.  It’s 6.30pm, but we’ve still got a 2 and a half hour drive ahead of us.  We’re in moose territory and this is prime moose spotting time, so we’re hoping to see some along the way.  No such luck, they’re all hiding.  It’s after 9 by the time we get to our motel.  We’ve bought some soup to have for dinner but this is the first motel we’ve stayed in that doesn’t have a microwave anywhere on the premises, so we’ve got to make do with bread and cheese.

Janet adds: Hard work, but so worth it.  What a beautiful walk.

Sunday:

The motel we’re in is just outside of Portland, Maine.  We have a slow morning resting our aching legs.  Well, that’s only half the truth.  Time for another dirty little secret: the Casey Anthony trial (not sure how much this has been picked up in the UK media – google it if you don’t know) is being broadcast live on telly.  We’re hooked; it’s far better than any courtroom drama series.  This morning the lawyers are giving their closing arguments and we’re riveted.

We do eventually tear ourselves away and drive into town.  There’s plenty of history in Portland and it’s no hardship walking the streets and admiring the old brick buildings.  We walk down to the old (but still active) fishing wharves, which are peppered with lobster shacks and various other fishy things.  It’s no good for either of us but we have a coke and enjoy the views anyhow. 

We’ve pretty much seen Portland and it’s still early, so we take a little drive up the coast.  We find ourselves in Falmouth, a somewhat unlikely shopping mecca.  It’s only a small town but the streets are lined with outlet shops.  We’re acutely aware that our trip is coming to an end and that the suitcase full of shabby t-shirts we’ve been wearing for the last 9 months is probably not going to serve as much of a wardrobe when we get home, so we’re not going to pass up the chance to grab a few bargains.

Shopped out and unable to face another night of cheese sandwiches we drive back into Portland for a beer and some food.  The bar we find ourselves in wows us with its extensive beer menu – over 340 different bottled beers with another 40 or so on tap.  It doesn’t make deciding what to have easy.  And what better way to cap off the evening than to go for a curry.  Aah.

Monday:

The prosecution is giving their final rebuttal this morning so that sets us back a little bit.  We’re not going too far today though so we can afford to take it a bit easy.  We take a slow drive down the coast, stopping off in Kittery for lunch and a bit more bargain hunting.  We’re staying in Portsmouth tonight, which is just across the river (but confusingly back in New Hampshire).  It’s still early though and it’s hot, hot, hot so we decide to head for the beach.  We back track a little to Ogunquit and manage to luck out on a parking spot.  The beach is beautiful, long and packed. 

We stroll down a way and find a spot to squeeze in.  We strip down to our swimmers, lather on the factor 30 and then this happens:

If you’re not quite sure: yes, that is a nasty storm brewing, complete with ominous rumbles of thunder.  We’re thinking about manning it out, but just about the entire beach has taken it as their cue to pack up and get the hell out of there.  We reluctantly follow suit and only in the nick of time – as we get back to the car it starts pelting it down.  So much for our afternoon on the beach.  We drive back to our motel - by which time of course the sun is out again. 

It’s the 4^th of July – Independence Day.  Various joyful, happy celebrations are taking place nearby but Nick is stubbornly refusing to take part or even be associated with any of them.  He’s planning to sulk in the room with some soup.  But this turns out to be the second motel we’ve ever stayed in that doesn’t have a microwave, so it’s a trip to the diner for us.  Ah, and the internet at the motel has gone down too.  We need to find somewhere to stay tomorrow night, so we swing by McDonalds.  We haven’t had a cup of tea in about 2 days so we figure we’ll get some tea and use their wireless.  Just one problem: the McDonalds does not serve hot tea.  Does. Not. Serve. Hot. Tea.  Shocked and appalled we retreat back to the car to use their internet anyway.

Janet adds: I know it’s meant to be the other way round but Nick is way better at shopping than me. 

Tuesday:

It’s hot and sunny this morning and we decide not to mess about: it’s straight to the beach for us.  This time we head south to Hampton Beach – another lovely wide stretch of sand. 

We have a little bake in the sun then head in for a swim.  The water is a little chilly, but we’ve had colder.  We warm up in the sun and then decide to call it quits before we get fried.  We eat our lunch on a bench overlooking the sea and then get back on the road. 

We’re heading for Boston but decide to take a few detours along the way.  First up is Salem – infamous for the 1692 witch trials.  It’s a pretty seaside town that is taking full advantage of its witchy past: there are about 4 different witch museums and plenty of spell shops and psychics.  We skip the commercial nonsense and walk to the old graveyard (a Mayflower Pilgrim is buried here).  

Behind the graveyard is a memorial to the victims of the witch-hunt.  It’s simple and quite touching. 

We finish our whirlwind tour with a walk along the waterfront and then head back to the car.  We have one more detour: Cambridge.  Neither of us realized that Cambridge is basically a suburb (and a bustling, busy one at that) of Boston.  Our sat-nav is acting up and the traffic is a nightmare so it takes a while to find ourselves and get parked.  Once we’re rid of the car Cambridge is much more pleasant.   We take a walk into Harvard Square and admire the library (its steps instantly recognizable from countless films).

We buy ice-cream cones (yum) and eat them on the way back to the car.  We’ve booked a motel on the outskirts of Boston so we won’t be doing any sight-seeing tonight.  It is, of course, a dump.  We’ve seen quite a few of those lately.  It is also (you guessed it) the third motel we’ve ever stayed in that doesn’t have a microwave.  We head up the road to a restaurant both to escape our dank room and fill our bellies.

Wednesday:

We’ve booked a hotel a little closer into town for tonight so we drive over this morning and dump off the car.  It’s right near the metro station so in no time we’re in downtown Boston.   We’ve decided to walk the Freedom Trail, so armed with a map and with Nick playing tour guide we set off.  The 2.5-mile trail starts on Boston Common and finishes at Beacon Hill.  It walks us past 16 significant historic sights, including the Old State House.  It was from the balcony of this building that the Declaration of Independence was first proclaimed on 18 July 1776.

There is also a goose-bump inducing Holocaust memorial.  We’re done by mid-afternoon and we feel like we’ve had a good introduction to Boston, so we decide to head back to the hotel and get checked in.  It’s only a Holiday Inn Express, but after the places we’ve been lately it feels like extreme luxury.  Everything is clean!  And doesn’t smell!  There’s a laundry so we can get clean clothes and a fitness room.  We had fully intended to head back out into Boston for the evening but somehow our plans fall by the wayside.  Besides, there’s a microwave in the room so our long-suffering soup can finally get eaten.

Niagara Falls - Burlington

24 June – 30 June

Friday:

It takes us 3 hours or so to drive over to Niagara Falls.  We stop on our way in to dump our car off at the motel, and then head off on foot.  We’re following the broad, turquoise Niagara River far down below us.   Although we kind of knew it was going to be like this, we’re still not prepared for the touristy onslaught that is Niagara.  There are viewing towers, Imax theaters, casinos and any kind of Niagara ‘experience’ you can think of.  Oh, and a big Buddhist temple, obviously.

The pavements are so packed it’s hard to walk without getting smeared by the copious amounts of ice cream being licked.  OK, I’m exaggerating a little.  It’s busy, but it could be far worse.  

We can hear the falls long before we can see them.  First up are the American and Bridal Veils Falls, on the US side of the border.  They’re beautiful, but nowhere near as powerful and overwhelming as the Canadian Horseshoe Falls.

We’re feeling a bit jaded by it all, but figure we can’t come to Niagara without boarding the Maid of the Mist.  We get lucky: a random tour guide hands us an extra ticket she isn’t using so we only have to fork out for one ticket.  We’re still feeling a bit skeptical as we’re shepherded down to the waters-edge and decked out with blue ponchos (think bin-liners).  On board we’re soon won over: this brave boat powers it’s way upstream until we’re right in the curve of the falls.  Even with the ponchos on the spray soon soaks us through.  Up close the falls are even more spectacular and suddenly it’s clear what all the fuss is about.

Back on dry land we soon dry off as we tackle the crowds to get a view from the top of the falls. 

From here we can see the Maid of the Mist ferrying another group up to the falls and realize just how close we got to them.

Satisfied, we start the long walk back to our motel for a quiet night in. 

Saturday:

We leave Niagara this morning, heading for Montreal.  We’re going past Toronto and had hoped to have a look in, but we don’t have the time to do it justice and so decide to bypass the city.  Most of the day is spent on motorways.  We do detour briefly to Prince Edward County, which gives us a bit of a break.  This is wine country so the scenery is pretty and we get some good views of Lake Ontario.  A short ride on a car ferry takes us back to the motorway.

It’s about time to look for somewhere to spend the night.  This should be easy – all the usual chain motels are represented on this uninspiring strip of road.  Unfortunately they’re all charging an arm and a leg.  We’re reluctant, but an hour later we still haven’t found anything reasonable so we’re forced to hand over said arm and leg for a somewhat damp and smelly room.  Chased out of the room by the smell we head down the street to the Old English Pub (at least they didn’t put an ‘e’ on the end of old) for shepherds pie.

Janet adds: I was mentally prepared for Canada this time, but it’s still managed to unsettle me.  It’s too much like the US to feel like a different country, but it’s also not the US.  It also has blacks squirrels.

Sunday:

We’re at the start of a small stretch of road known as the Thousand Island Parkway.  It follows the Saint Lawrence River and, as the name suggests, this section is dotted with islands.  Some are fairly big, some not much more than a few rocks.  We’re impressed with optimistic attitude people have to building on these islands – we see a few houses that take up pretty much all the exposed land. 

We also see a house on the banks of the river that’s been extended onto an island, connected by a little bridge.

We’ve been driving through staunchly loyalist country and as we cross into Quebec province it feels like we’re driving into a different country – all the road signs switch to French.   We stop for lunch shortly before getting into Montreal and it’s early afternoon when we pull up to our hotel.  Luckily they let us check in early and we’re tempted into a cheeky nap before setting out exploring.  We’ve saved a few pennies by choosing a hotel that’s a bit out of the centre of town.  There’s a metro station next door and two stops take us to the centre of town.

I knew that Montreal was very French but I didn’t realize that is was pretty much completely French.  The signs, the announcements on the metro, everyone we speak to – all French. Still, it’s an easy city to navigate and the French people speak beautiful English. 

We spend a bit of time walking around the quaint cobbled streets of the Old Town (old by North American standards, fairly average by European standards).  Quite by chance we happen to be in town for the Montreal Jazz Festival, so we wander up to have a look.  A few streets have been closed off, outdoor stages are set up and there are plenty of food and drink places.  It’s a warm evening and the atmosphere is great – really relaxed and friendly.  

We’re too cheap (and not big enough jazz fans) to fork out for tickets for any of the big names, but there are plenty of free gigs to keep us busy.  We find a spot on the grass, grab a beer and while a way a few hours.  Later on in the evening we’re lucky enough to catch the Soul Rebels Brass Band – they’re brilliant – before getting the metro back to our hotel.

Monday:

We’re in no hurry to get going today, so we have a bit of a lie in.  It is a gorgeous hot and sunny day so we can’t stay indoors for too long.  We go into town, pick up some sandwiches and head to the park.  After our picnic we walk up Mount Royal (which gave Montreal it’ name) for some great views of the city. 

A walk through the park takes us to the Plateau area of the city.  Nick decides to head back to the hotel for a little rest while I do a bit of window-shopping. 

I meet him back at the hotel and in the evening we decide to see what’s going on at the jazz festival again.  We get beer and pizza slices while we wait for the band to start.  Unfortunately this time we’re not so lucky.  The band is not our cup of tea (I’m being polite) and we’re forced to leave.

Janet adds: I’m somewhat bewildered by the Montreal metro.  It’s more like a whole string of buses – complete with big chunky tyres – than a train.

Tuesday:

It’s Nick’s birthday today and, being a devoted wife, I have of course planned a day full of presents and surprises.  Or maybe not quite.  He does get ham & cheese croissants for breakfast though, which makes a change from the usual bowl of Cheerios. 

We leave Montreal and drive the 3 hours or so to Quebec City.  This time we’ve gone for a hotel a little closer to the action and are pleasantly surprised to find that it’s right in the middle of the Old Town.  We get settled in our room and then go out for a walk.  The Old Town is utterly charming and very European: narrow cobbled streets, beautiful old buildings and the remains of the city wall. 

We walk out of the city gates to the Grande Allee, which is lined with bars and restaurants with people spilling out on to the pavements.  A nice looking brewpub entices us in for a couple of beers before we go in search of food.  We find ourselves on Rue Saint-Jean, which also has plenty of cafés and restaurants but seems a bit less touristy.  We find a good place to eat and then get ice-creams to eat on the walk back to our hotel.

Janet adds: On our wanderings today we found this little guy fiercely protecting his shop.  The next day we passed by again to find him asleep on his own red velvety cushion.

Wednesday:

We start our little tour of the city with a walk around the city wall.  You can’t actually walk on them (although you can go up at various points for a look).  Whilst the Old Town is beautiful, the surrounding scenery is somewhat industrial.  Quebec City is on the banks of the St Lawrence River, which is a shipping route.  There are proper cargo ships unloading at the docks.  We walk to the Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac, supposedly the most photographed hotel in the world.  It is a very grand building, although undergoing some construction that marred the scene a little. 

We have a little look in – the hotel is meant to have it’s own dog ambassador, but if he’s in residence we can’t find him.

It’s about lunchtime and our quest for food takes us out of the city gates again (the Old Town is packed with ‘fine dining’, but is a bit lacking on the more casual front).  We find a Mexican Café that does the best veggie burritos ever and some pretty decent beef tacos.

After lunch we walk back to the Old Town, this time dropping down to the lower town where we wander the pretty streets and squares. 

We end up walking a bit further than we’d anticipated and by the time we make it back to our hotel (via 300 odd steps) we’ve got to put our feet up for a bit.  Later in the evening we find a great pub for a couple of beers and then grab a pizza.

Janet adds: Kept thinking I was in France today. 

Thursday:

We pack up our bags and get checked out.  We’ve got a driving day ahead of us and it’s probably a good thing as it rains pretty much all day.  We drive almost all of the way back to Montreal and then head south.  The border crossings seem to get easier each time we do them and this time we’re through in no time.  We’re now in Vermont.  It’s green and leafy and the sun is finally threatening to break through.  We’re staying in a motel just outside Burlington and it’s late afternoon by the time we get there.  We spend the evening on boring stuff like picking up groceries and getting some washing done.