The Ups And Downs Of Travel

I went on a long motorcycle trip to Montreal to see the Grand Prix race and had a great time. On the way back, I realised I had a bunch of Canadian cash. I was hungry, so I stopped at a motel, but they had no cafe. The staff insisted they spoke no English. This was at the border in Plattsburgh, New York.

I started riding around and followed signs for a Fort “Something”, thinking there would be a food place there. It was a very pleasant ride through the countryside, and then I arrived at a marina with a restaurant across the street.

I walked up and a young kid sweeping the veranda said something in French. “Oh, boy,” I thought. “Here we go again.”

The boy could speak some English and said he was glad to have the opportunity to practice it.

I ordered a very fine meal and ate while looking at the yachts across the street. When I finished, I gave the boy all the leftover money I had, which constituted a huge tip. He made up for the rude people back at the border.