We slept in late, mainly because George was choosing to be snugly instead of tormenting me. He did manage to run one of his fangs through my CPAP pipe, so that will need to be fixed. Otherwise there's a soft hiss all night long and I don't know if it's the pipe or if there's a snake curled up by my head. When you're half asleep in it's dark they do seem like the same thing.
Anyway, he chose to lay on my pillow by my head and on top of my hand. This is the most affection he has shown other than when he wants food. So I chose to stay in bed and enjoy the moment.
We rose about 10:00 and had some breakfast and went into our respective chores of preparing to break camp. Our preparations ended with George and Gracie diving down the rabbit hole for safety behind the couch when the motor started up.
It was a short drive and we figured we'd be in really nice and early, and we would have except for the stinking tunnel.
Now, please keep in mind that the minute we entered Quebec all the signs are in French and with few exceptions, French only. But we both understood the word tunnel and the symbol for hazardous cargo being denied access. Oops. We're 22 tons of motor home hauling propane. I don't think they want us going through the tunnel. We need to find an alternate route. This is not usually a big problem as the signs will clearly indicate where to go...if you can read them.
I found myself back in Mr O'Brien's French class in High School desperately searching through those conversations with Margo and her Uncle to see if they ever covered anything like this. I know, I know...taking French from someone named O'Brien is probably a bit iffy at best, but it's the only time I studied French.
Now we are driving around another huge city with tons of traffic, narrow streets and road construction. Give me a break! They clearly need to fix the roads as they are full of bumps and small craters causing the motor home to bounce around like an old time washing machine. The poor cats must be miserable in their hiding spot.
But Left Brain clearly has an internal GPS built into his brain and between him and the real GPS we found a bridge to cross to avoid the tunnel. This took us back through much of Montreal again in the process and I couldn't help but notice you don't see a lot of motor homes driving around here. Especially those with Texas plates who are traveling through Canada to get to Florida.
I had managed to find an RV Resort near Montreal and that's where we were trying to get to. They had not responded to my email about any openings so after arriving about 3:00 I was prepared to beg and plead...in French if necessary...for anything they had at all.
|You go right ahead, I'll stay here with my little suitcase where I am!|
We got settled in and set up our house again. Gracie came out first and immediately wanted to go outside so I set up her little playpen for her while I waited for George to emerge from his dungeon.
They both seemed to be responding pretty well, but George did barf up his lunch.
He does this if the trip is too much for him, but then shakes it off and returns for another feeding fairly soon. They are both adjusting quite well considering all we've thrown at them in their three short months with us.
Our tour of Montreal is booked for tomorrow and we'll be gone most of the day, so photos and follow ups may have to wait a bit. Fortunately we can get a shuttle from the office here in the campground into Montreal for a double decker bus tour and not have to do any driving. The camera is ready and the spare battery is charging. I also think the cats will enjoy a day off from us and travel.
Long Live the Queen of Jangled Nerves