We were drenched by the warm summer morning rain that poured down like Karl Lagerfeld’s silver draping pins. While looking every bit like hopeless puppies about to be put to sleep at the SPCA because they weren’t cute enough to be adopted, we persuaded the taxi driver parked in front of the Westin Hotel to please take pity on two soaking wet travellers who always dreamed of getting into a cab for the sole purpose of saying “Follow that Bus!”
That cabbie could’ve picked up a rich Taipan going to the Pierre Elliot Trudeau Airport, who tips in purple and green bills. Instead he got us whose butts are pooling water on his leather seats and needed to go in the middle of freaking Longueuil with the harried command of in 20 minutes or less. After 22 minutes, 30$ and a toonie later, we arrived in Terminus Panama with our Concorde Tour Bus nowhere to be found.
Lovely as we were already lugging heavy backpacks, a pink plastic picnic cooler and a healthy amount of water that refuses to be evaporated from our clothes.
We waited patiently for an hour while indignantly eating a plum, some blueberries and apple juice but after the third bus to Centre-ville passed by, we thought Quebec City is going to happen another day and it was time to take a whack somewhere else near Montreal. So we got in at last at the parked Réseau de transport de Longueuil bus and with our best puppy dog eyes, pleaded with the Monsieur how we are so sorry to be stuck in your town that is so far from Montreal but looks like a nice place and could you please take us in with our regular Blue OPUS KThxBye.
The kind Monsieur kicked us out at Station Bonaventure where we transferred to Berri-UQAM, not for the Grande Bibliothèque but to catch the next Greyhound Bus to Ottawa because why the hell not.
The literally Grey (coloured)-hound Bus ride to Ottawa took about 3 hours including the sushi lunch we had at the Gare d’autocars. That means it is past 1pm at this point which is a darn shame because Ottawa has a plethora of activities that’s impossible to squeeze in one afternoon. But with chutzpah it is always possible to turn a horribly planned day into an awesome one.
The carpe-half-a-diem seizing was turning out well with a kind taxi driver who offered to use his meter instead of charging us with a pre-determined exorbitant amount to go to the Royal Canadian Mint where we are not planning to steal the 1,000,000$ Gold Coin stashed in the basement but to simply have a nice tour of the facility and hopefully swipe the 750,000$ bar instead