Breakfast & A Thirty Minute Warning

It was so dark last night, as we drove along in the black of night. We make it as far as Sherbrooke before I have to pull over at a convenience store to look at a map. Between that and a few questions to the cashier, I am able to navigate us into Eastman and the bed and breakfast where we will stay for the evening, Gite La Marmotte.

We get settled in and then head into the common area to watch the presidential debate on TV. It's in French, but our hostess, Marcelle, finds it on another station -- Fox -- for us to watch. No comment. Also, my grandmother and I don't see eye-to-eye on politics. No comment.

I might as well go to sleep.

Success. I sleep nine hours ... and it only took a separate bed, earplugs, drugs and a Breathe Right strip (for Grandma, of course!) I have the world's greatest shower, complete with overhead rainfall shower, and head into the dining room to check some email. Once Gram joins us, Marcelle serves breakfast. She says there's Croque-Monsiuer and Croque-Madame ... but nothing for breakfast. Enter Croque-Matin.
  

Marcelle's Croque-Matin

Sesame Kaiser Rolls, split

Jamon (ham), thinly sliced

Egg

Italian cheese mix (provolone, mozzarella, Parmesan, emmenthaler)

Preheat over to 400 degrees. Scoop some of the bread out of the tops of the kaiser rolls. Layer with several slices of jamon. Break egg into the "bowl" on top of ham. Cover with cheese. Cook for 20 to 24 minutes, depending on desired yolk consistency.

It is magical. Crunchy, savory fabulousness. Then, our hostess says she's forgotten to let us know that she has an appointment at 11 am. Either we can be out in thirty minutes, or wait until she returns to leave.

No comment.

Amazingly enough, I dry my hair, throw on makeup, pack the car and shoo Gram out the door in just the nick of time. We are heading to Knowlton, Ville De La Brome, having been told it is absolutely charming. There's a walking tour and lots of old Victorian buildings that will be fun to check out.
 

It's a pretty drive, but once we arrive, we only see about six stops on the tour. The buildings, most constructed in the late 1800's, are beautiful ... it's just that Gram is really exhausted. I walk her back to the car and set out on my own. I've found a few presents I want to buy, and realize that along with my complete lack of directions, I also have no Canadian cash. It's so much easier crossing the border here that you just don't think twice about being in a foreign country with a foreign currency. I also find this sweet little Italian store with a woman from the heel of the boot running shop. She's lovely, and makes a few suggestions, lamenting that I didn't bring Gram in -- she says she would have made her tea.

Why don't I come to Canada more often? I've always been told they don't like Americans and would not be nice. So far, I've found there is nothing further from the truth.    

When I tell Grandma about the Italian woman, she starts talking about Sunday dinners when she was a kid. She was always responsible for making the noodles. She would roll them out, but her mother -- my great grandmother -- would not let her cut them. They would start dinner with chicken noodle soup, then it was roasted chicken, canadle, and a vegetable. Sometimes, in the summer particularly, there would be wilted lettuce with bacon. And, says Grandma, "She'd always have something for dessert."  

It's not far from there on to Montreal. We get in quickly, and even I am impressed with my navigation skills. It's like I have a compass up my bum. A sixth sense for which way to go. Oh ... and the uncanny ability to actually read a map -- a dying art form in today's GPS culture.

One of our hosts, Joel, meets us at the door (once I call him from the coffee shop downstairs. Still no cell.) The place is modern, and in a fabulous location. We rest for a while before he points us to a Japanese restaurant down the street for dinner. Gram eats her weight in ramen. When we return, we discover that the elevator isn't working. We are staying on the fourth floor.

This is going to be tough.

I think we'll call it an early night. Dors bien, Belle.