When in Canada, I cannot tell how far I have to go. They have those 'thingies' instead of miles. I cannot tell how hot it is. They don't know how to display temperature the right way. My cell phone won't work. My wife, as always, demands steamy romance on our getaway. How do I know THAT will work in this barbaric place?
Still, there were good things. At the festival in Guelph, municipal water tankers appear so everyone can refill their supply. An environmental concern, a local tells us. No plastic bottles to litter with. In the U.S., we like the environment, too, but we also like socking it to people for two bucks a bottle.
Cops were there, too, but almost out of sight. That is not necessarily a good thing, for our cops are friendly and folks feel they are being looked out for. It is just a different thing.
It was an odd hotel manager. Mrs. Harley asked where the brochures were advertising the highlights of the area. The manager said he knew all the highlights, and then went on the explain that there weren’t any – the town was not what it used to be. His assistant manned the desk the next morning. It was raining. How long will the rain continue? We asked. ‘Till 4,’ she replied.
It cleared up in half and hour and was pleasant as could be for the rest of the day.
Perhaps it is just because we hail from the land of Trump.