The day started off with a bit of lethargy. Still feeling the effects of overeating the night before, the Tysons decided to sleep in and imitate sloths for much of the morning. Neither of us moved with any sort of alacrity, and you’ll never see two people move with such disregard to energy. That being said, guess what we had for breakfast? Leftover pizza, leftover sausage macaroni and cheese, and shoofly pie. What? We didn’t want to take leftovers to Canada. Don’t judge us, though we probably are worthy of a side eye or two. Nevertheless, we finally got our stuff together and checked out of the hotel around 10:55, the latest we’ve checked out so far.
Next stop on the mystical magical tour was the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory. It was actually pretty fun. We signed up for the tour, which was quite entertaining. The tour guide took us through the entire process, and I have to admit that I wanted one afterwards. The bears come in several different flavors, i.e colors, and you can get their clothes customized however you want. If you run your bear over with a lawnmower, they’ll fix it or replace it for free. How great is that? And I can’t believe I’m waxing poetic about teddy bears. Honeymoons mess with your brain, man. For real. Anyway, the place is mad cool. The only slight drawback is the cost of the bears. They are a tad pricey. If you can swing it, cool. If not, take a picture it’ll last longer.
After leaving teddy bear paradise, we hit I-89N and made our way to Oh Canada. As we rode, Kaia read through the French translation book in a last ditch effort to ensure we didn’t look completely like ugly Americans upon arrival. I can safely say that we still got a few warts and a couple of crooked noses. C’est la vie. [See what I did?] Anyhoo, the ride through Vermont towards the border was majestic. We didn’t even bother attempting to take pictures. You gotta be there in person. However, the funny part of the trip was the tension, anxiety, and nervousness we felt as we got closer to the border. Would border control stop us? Would they bring the dogs out? Would they cavity search us, then strip search us?
Our fears were unfounded, it seems. Although there was some slight tension as we pulled up to the guard.
Guard: And where are you from?
Me: Umm. Uh…United States.
Guard: Yeah, I know. Where from in the US?
Me: Umm, Atlanta?
For some reason, I thought they’d turn us around or shoot us if they didn’t like where we were from. Hey man, I don’t know how gangsta they are in Canada. I got nervous. At any rate, we made it through without further incident. And as soon as we pulled off we realized that we were no longer in the States because the metric system hit us in the face. The speed limit was 90…km/h. What the? Now I have to do math, while driving in a foreign country? Thankfully my wife pointed out that the speedometer had km/h underneath the mp/h. Like I said, I was a little nervous.
So we eventually get to our hotel and begin plotting dinner for the night. Kaia has wanted to try poutine for the longest time, and we found a spot that received rave reviews for their poutine. They are also purveyors of smoked meat, so yeah! We looked out as Jarry Smoked Meat is just a frog’s jump from the hotel. As we walked towards the entrance, all we heard was French. Oh no. The maitre’d merely asked “Deux? and took us to our seat. After a moment, the waitress came by, said something in French and gave us water. The next time she comes to the table she starts speaking English. We’re both like “How did you know?” Well we didn’t respond to her French the 1st time around, and I was wearing a Braves t-shirt and an Old Navy hat with a US flag on it. I felt like such an American douchebag flaunting his American-ness in a foreign country. Everyone in the restaurant probably went home and made fun of me.
Oh well, the food was awesome. We started off with karnatzel sausage. Think Slim Jim, but about two million times better. It was a great starter for the meal to come.
We ordered poutine and Montreal style pizza with smoked meat. The poutine was sublime. Kaia figured they put cinnamon in the gravy, and boy did that make a difference. The pizza was stupid. I don’t know how they make their dough but I’m thinking they use brioche and french bread techniques. The pizza was essentially deep dish but the crust was light, crunchy and flaky. The meat was smoked to perfection. It was the bomb dinner. Even though we loved dinner, we learned our lesson and didn’t overeat. See, no need for any further scorn or side eyes…