Oh Canada, I guess I fell in love

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Today was one of those days where it was in a movie. I decided last minute to visit Canada before I left Maine, so close to the border.

Canada is a different land mine.

Full of the French language and architecture that will make you question America’s monopoly as the North American mecca.

I see now how New Orleans tried to imitate a French landscape and how Canada did it better. The colors, flags, and people are loud and vibrant. Ranging in colors and languages. It’s mandatory for everyone to learn French and English.

Before coming, I knew doing Quebec City in one day would be difficult and so I decided to do a food tour. Combining two of my loves, food and history.

The guide stuck close to me and answered my questions walking in between places. Mostly about politics, the immigration policies, how that affected local Canadians, the election, and as always, I asked about superstitions in the area.

He answered kindly and we kept up a nice conversation about him. He was an archeology major who moved to Quebec for the historical reasons. He accidentally got stuck doing tours since 2013 and works seven days a week.

His views on immigration ranged from condescending about the amount of respect Canada gets for a more “open policy” as he says that it’s easy to get in but hard to stay in Canada. He told stories about how many engineers and doctor’s he knows that can’t find a job because they can not speak English.

The motto is, speaking English you can get a job anywhere. If you speak French and not English, you won’t find a thing.

Says a lot about the political landscape of Canada.

Not to downplay the food though. Because I can live in Canada and remaining what I’ve been told as “slim thick”. Which the term is altogether problematic but I won’t get into it now.

The food experience included: poutine, the Canadian version of shepard’s pie, stew, maple toffee, pea soup, some cream sugar cube, croissant, wines, and mac and cheese with Canadian-smoked bacon.

I am in heaven.

Currently, I am eating a meat and cheese board after my wine tasting at a local famous winery. My view consists of a vineyard (of course) with falls, mountains, and the city of Quebec in the background. My life is definitely different from how it was about a year ago.

Weird how one break-up and a weird job can change you.

It’s Been A Maine Minute But Look At That I’m In Maine

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The past week in Maine has been like visiting an English, pretty-American country. So like an English-speaking Puerto Rico.

I’m going to start by saying the overall belief that Northerners have no manners and are a crisp, cold kind; is something I have yet to run into.

Everyone I have met from the postal office workers to the people at the laundry mat have been kind to an almost fault.

Example: I needed a box. There is not a place to buy a box in Rangeley Maine. A random lady heard my cries and told me to follow her in her 4 by 4. Next thing I know, I’m on a dirt road about 15 miles from Rangeley on an overlook talking to a weird lady about her son’s upcoming wedding with a box in my hand.

This keeps happening. Little acts of kindness and I pass it on as much as I can. Which lead me to meeting an infamous online poker player from Florida. He is doing the Appalachian Trail to escape the digital realm but he spends time between Florida and Las Vegas. Not sure if I believe him but he gave a good story regardless.

Being a bartender has allowed me to meet people. And it’s my y’all and yes mam’s that have people having a constant flow of conversation.

A week in and I’m a little tired of telling my story. There have been majorly 3 outcomes of people learning that I’m traveling and doing a work exchange program: oh you’re trying to find yourself, tell me everything because I need to tell my son/daughter, and wonder how your parents are feeling.

A couple days into being in small-town Maine, I decided to go to a BBQ joint. The moment the waitress found out where I was from, she immediately went into a spiel about how different the BBQ was. That I shouldn’t expect what I know. It’s sweeter, lighter (somehow, I mean it’s the same meat).

Probably one of the biggest cultural breakdowns I have seen (semi-joking).

Between working and working, I haven’t had much time for much else. I’ve hiked a couple trails and seen some waterfalls. I can’t get over the views I have seen. You can never decide what is better; day or night.

During the day, you can go to overlooks and hike to the tops of mountains and you are literally in the clouds.

During the night, Rangeley is an unpolluted sky and you can spot the Milky Way.

Life in Rangeley is a small town. Everyone knows everyone else. I see people stopping in the middle of the street to have a full conversation with each other. Sometimes it feels like I’m in a Stephen King movie. Low-key segue, Stephen King owns a house over here. I’m floored and on a daily mission to not fangirl and try to find it.

 

Maine: The A-Maine-zing Times

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IMG_8571Call Me A Manie-iac

My first couple of days here in Maine. It’s been a surreal experience to see this many mountains.

 


 

Oh Canada, I guess I fell in love

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Took a detour and landed somewhere in Canada. Ending up spending the night in Quebec City.