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30 Days with George Part 2
America / Canada
July, 2003
Wednesday, June 25th n Cape May Tragedy
This was a hectic day. And really stressful. It started like any other, with coffee, a little CSpan coverage of congress in session and a small snack. We didnit eat much because we were going to Cape May with my Grandmother. After our snack George started to cough, and his hack was worse that the day before. Then he started coughing up yellow flem.
"Tomorrow I will get a fever.i he said, iIt always starts with yellow flem, Iim very sick! It will be really bad tomorrow. Do you have any antibiotics?i
I had some but wanted to talk to my brother the doctor before giving him the pills and I couldn't get a hold of him. I told George I would get in touch with him in the afternoon and then I would give him the pills. He insisted that he was still OK to have lunch in Cape May so we went to pick up Grams at 10:00 AM. Before we left George seemed interested in the trip, he even knew a guy who did a photo book exclusively on Cape May. We got Grandma and began to head south. George seemed ok, a bit of coughing, but that was it.
As soon as we left our Island and headed for the Garden State Parkway, George started to fidget. Then as we got on the GSP, he really started to hack badly. Gma and I are cringing. Then about half way to Cape May he lies down on his back starts to ihack gurgle. This is really intense. When he coughed up his chunks, on his back, he then, somehow, starts to gargle with the flem. Gma and I are biting our fingernails. I had never heard this gurgling before. I told him to sit up so he wouldnit choke, but he refused. I know he was sick, but this was really too much.
By the time we arrived in Cape May, Gma and I decided that he was too sick to go into the restaurant so we just turned around for home. George was asking for antibiotics. We stopped by the Lobster House to get some take out but we were too early. I also tried my brother again but was unsuccessful. We got back on the GSP to head for home and George didnit let up. Hacking, gurgling, moaning and spitting very yellow flem out the window. Iim starting to really freak out, even thinking that the best option would be to take him to the emergency room and Shore Memorial Hospital. I mention it to George and he flat out refuses, iJust take me home, I need rest.i
When we arrive back at Gmais, George is still in the back with the horrible gurgle. Gma is crossing herself being so happy to get out of the car. She really likes George, but that gurgling is enough to gross anyone out. My nerves are also frazzled. When we get back to Johnnyis, I get a hold of my brother about the antibiotics. He says what I expect, that itis not safe to take another personis prescription, that I must keep a careful eye on him, check him for fever, take him to the hospital if any signs of pneumonia, and that the antibiotics I have could help. I gave George the pills and put him to bed. No more gurgling as soon as we got to Johnnyis. I think he really wanted to rest the entire day and used the gurgling to get home ASAP. I wish he had just said so at the beginning of the day, maybe I should have known.
Gma said, iI think he was a bit jealous and wanted to spend the day with you, thatis why he acted so horribly. She had her point, he may have acted up a little, but he was sick and I was really worried about him. It was 90 degrees and humid in the house so I kept on going in his room to see if he was OK, telling him to keep drinking water to avoid dehydration. This really bugged him. iJust leave me in peace,i he would scream as he slammed his door.
Iim freaked, donit know what to do, stewing at Johnnyis is driving me crazy, so I went down to the beach to meet Chris and we went for a sail. When I returned at 5:00 PM, George was still in bed. I rousted him for a little food and then he went back to bed for the evening. The next couple days of antibiotics got him better, then worse for days 3 and 4, and back to his normal hack after days 5 and 6. One thing to note, not like the times he was sick in Paris, George took the antibiotics for the entire cycle, 7 days, without complaining or discontinuing the medication. The last couple times in Paris when he was sick he would take Antibiotics for one day, say there not working and stop after that.
Thursday the 26th - Big rest day.
Big rest day for George, and big stress day for me. George didnit want to do anything but lie in bed, in that hot room, no air-con, sweltering. I could only stress out and pray he was getting better. By Thursday afternoon, he seemed to be recovering. His appetite was returning and he even felt good enough to walk a couple blocks to the Ice Cream Parlor for a milkshake. Man, George loved those milkshakes, extra thick, the only ones he liked on our entire trip. We tried many places, but the shakes were never thick enough.
Wednesday and Thursday were hard and stressful days for me. I even tried to call Sylvia in Paris, thinking that talking to his daughter would cheer him up, but I was unable to contact her. These were also intense days for Johnny. What a trooper he was. George is an ultimate thrasher and, of course, throws nothing away. By Thursday, we had been there almost a week and the used food and snot rags were starting to build up. I did my best to control the kitchen mess. In the fridge there were lots of half eaten meals that George was saving for his next meal. Anyone who has seen the fridge at Shakespeare and Company will know what Iim talking about. George totally freaks out when you throw anything away, so Johnny just put up with it.
During the week his lima bean soup that had been on the stove for 5 days started to turn red with mold. George had heated it up every other day, iTo kill the bacteria,i but by day five it was turning red. Red mold can be dangerous. Johnny looked at it and said it was inedible so I threw it away. George still had two half eaten bowls in the fridge, but when he noticed the pot gone he went ballistic, iYou are always throwing away my food! You Saboteur! You throw everything away.i
He was spitting mad and serious. I fabricated the truth and told him that Johnny threw it away because of the mold (thank goodness Johnny wasnit home for this scene). He just shook his head with a really nasty look on his face and said, iYou threw it away,i and then went into a really bad coughing fit. Talking about stressful. There were also snot rags all over the place. George never throws away a Kleenex, he just lays them out to dry so he can use them again. Not very sanitary! I did my best to clear all used rags outside his room but some did get away. I think Johnny even got a little sick, sore throat etc. (I got it too) because the germs were flowing everywhere.
George never blew up in front of Johnny, but man, the mess, the experiments in the fridge, snot rags everywhere in his spare bedroom, the coffee George spilled on the rug, all this tends to add up. But donit get me wrong, Johnny was really happy to have George staying there. George was charming, gave him a store brochure and was quite pleasant when he was around. Johnny told all his friends, iGuess who is staying at my house!i And since I did the dishes, took out the trash and really kept the place a clean as possible, Johnny really enjoyed the visit.
Friday, June 27th n Montreal Bound
This was our planned departure day from the shore. George was not entirely better, but I thought we had already been at Jonnies for a week and it was time to move on. Johnny invited us to stay another day, or until George was completely better, but who knows when that would be and I didnit want to outstay our welcome. George was better, didnit have a fever and was willing and ready to go. Johnny and I did the big fridge cleanout, I did all the dishes, I tried to clean the coffee stains in the spare bedroom, swept the floor in the kitchen, etc. Johnny was totally cool. We packed up all our stuff (Johnny let me keep my big backpack there) and put together our food bag. This consisted of dried coffee, sugar, bread, some hard boiled eggs and a medicine tube filled with butter. Ah, the food bag. It would become a point of contention during the trip because of our different standards in what is spoiled and what is not, I always on the side of spoiled, and George on the side of inever throw food awayi.
By 11:00 we were on our way north to Montreal. We had an invitation from Pia, a friend from in Paris, to stay at her motheris place on Saturday so we needed to get moving north. We had a great ride up the GSP through NYC and that turns into Hwy 87 that goes all the way up to Montreal. Since we werenit invited to stay in Montreal until Saturday, we spent the night in a dinky little town in upstate New York called Plattsburg which is about an hour from the Canadian Border. When we got there we drove around the entire town to find the cheapest hotel.
This would be an activity we would spend a lot of time doing on the trip. On our way around town we stopped at a little bookstore with a few boxes of free books out front. We looked through the books, he found a couple of titles he liked, and while searching, in true George form, he reorganized all the books so the titles were showing and so they looked nice. When we went inside, he looked at the lady behind the counter and said, iI straightened up the books outside for you.i and walked past her. She, with a half breath, softly said, iThank You.i but she wasnit sure if he was serious or not. The store was mainly new books, not that interesting and no good deals, so we were out pretty quick. When we got back out in front of the store, George noticed that the books were in disorder again, so he spent another 5 minutes organizing the boxes before we left.
iPeople are so sloppy.i he was saying as he rearranged the books.
Sometimes, George is really a fanatic. But a funny fanatic to say the least. To see George flinging around the books in his cool green suit and grey hair blowing in the wind has to make you smile. Everywhere we went people always smiled at George. And all sorts of people, from small children, to old ladies, to bikers, to high school girls, everyone always had a fine welcome for George.
After leaving the bookstore we couldnit find anymore hotels so we went back the cheapest one we had found, an Econo Lodge back by the freeway. We were both hungry and George said he felt like a hamburger for dinner. Not thinking, I went to Wendyis and presented George with his first American fast food burger he has had in a long time. The burgers werenit very good, and he hated it. After a couple of bites he was back to the cheese and crackers from the food bag. The burger sat out all night and I thought it would be a problem in the morning. I really didnit want to put it in the food bag and get slime all over our food. But, to my surprise, he said it was terrible and let me throw it away. Thereis a first time for everything!
After dinner we watched some good TV (some old movie on TCM), I sipped a little gin and went out to the car to play my guitar for awhile.
Saturday, June 28th n Big party in Montreal
This was a great day, one of the most memorable. We started in the morning with the free continental breakfast that came with our room. Then we had a bit of an argument after I threw away the burger. He had boiled a few eggs before we left Johnnyis and put them in the food bag. They were all broken and a few days old and I felt they were unsafe to eat. iHere, eat your egg.i he said.
iGeorge, I donit think those eggs are safe. There all broken. Donit eat them. You could get really sick.i
He quickly replied, iAll you do is waste food! Just throw them away huh? Iim having my eggs. I canit believe how wasteful you are!i
Iim getting a little mad. iDude, donit eat those eggs. You could get Salmonella poisoning! Give me those eggs!i
This was our first big confrontation and he won. There was nothing I could do. He shoved the egg into his mouth. Luckily he didnit get sick.
Before we left we prepared our coffee for the road. I really fell in love with Georgeis coffee on the trip. He always prepared it the same way. He puts freeze dried coffee, lots of sugar and cream powder all in our plastic Skippy peanut butter jar and adds hot water from the tap. A good shake and were ready to go. The coffee was always sweet and extra strong.
It was only an hour drive to Montreal and we arrived at the waterfront around noon. We were in Montreal because, not only was it one of Georgeis favorite city, we were invited to a party and had a free place to stay.
Hereis the scoop. Pia invited us to stay with her parents who were out of town but were returning that day and also throwing a party. Their names were Cynthia and Gerald and they lived in big mansion called iThe Braemar Housei. I had the address and the phone number but we couldnit arrive before the party started at 6:00PM. I planned to call at 5:30PM to see if all was cool so we had all day to wander around the city. And what better place than down by the waterfront.
We parked in a lot right near the Hotel de Ville next to Saint Paul Square. Itis a really beautiful area with lots of old buildings and nice piers. First we found a bench in the shade in Saint Paul Square and read the newspapers that George found in the trash and listened to the band that was playing down the street for the Montreal Jazz Festival. Saint Paul Square reminds me of Fishermanis Wharf in San Francisco. Lots of little restaurants, specialty shops, tourists and, of course, street performers. A juggler, a fancy bike guy and an Aussi girl with a flaming metal hula hoop.
George really liked hanging out in the square, iLook at this, all the people wandering around, children playing. Now it really feels like were on vacation!i
After a while we got hungry and had to take a leak so I scouted out a food court style place that had a toilet. We had been in the heat and sun for an hour so the food court aircon was a pleasant change. We used the toilet, found a table, broke out drinks and crackers from the food bag (day food bag) and too look good, bought a terriakki bowl from the Chinese booth. We were really enjoying ourselves. George read second hand news and I filled out Postcards. After a couple hours, this got a bit boring so we decided to take a walk down by the river.
It was 3:00 so we still had 2Ohm hours to kill. We crossed the street and noticed there were strikers standing at the front of the entrance to the piers. There were not a lot of them, we could walk right past like most people were doing, there was lots of stuff happening on the piers (music, rides shops), but George didnit want to pass the picket line. Instead, we found a nice place to sit along a metal fence just outside the pier entrance. We just sat there and wacthed people go by. The croud was very diverse, all races, colors and creeds. iHumanityi as George put it. George dozed off a bit, but he really liked it there. He looked over at me and said, iThis is wonderful. Iive never done this before, Iive never just had time to kill. Itis rather nice!i
I looked back at him, smiled, and said, iYes, it is!i After about an hour, around 4:00PM, George said, iHow about we go back to the car for a nap. Were paying enough, Iim sure they wonit mind if we sleep!i
I agreed and we went back to the car. George really hates to travel by car, but what he really canit stand in paying for parking. In Montreal, like almost all big cities, itis almost impossible to find parking on the street so we had no choice but to park in a pay lot. Its crazy driving around the city streets with George. Were driving around and he seeis something interesting and he says, iPull over, canit you stop here?i
The streets are full, tons of traffic, no parking, car right behind me and I say, iNo, thereis nowhere to stop.i He replies, iWell were not paying. How typical! Everywhere you go you have to pay.i
Eventually, after driving in circles for 15 minutes, he breaks down and we go into a pay lot. iIts robberyi he grumbles as we enter the garage. This was an often played scenario during the trip.
So we went back to our garage to kick back for an hour. The strange thing was that even though we were parked 3 stories underground, it was hot as hell down there. It was almost like they pumped up the cool air into the building and pumped the hot air down. George slept in the back with the food bag and I dozed in the driveris seat. I kept an eye out for security, some garages donit like sleepers, but this one didnit seem to care and no one even looked at us. It was so hot that I had one of those sweaty head bobbing naps, really uncomfortable.
At 5:30PM I went up to call Cynthia and it was really nice to get some fresh air. It was at least 15 degrees cooler on the street. I got Cynthia on the phone she seemed really cool. I told her who I was, who I was with and that Pia invited us to the party. She said, iOf course, please come.i She didnit sound like she knew that we planned to stay there so I uncomforably said, iWell, we donit have a hotel, Pia said you might be able to put us up..... She then said, iOf course, George never turns anyone away, we will find a place for you.i
It didnit seem convenient, the way she said ifind a placei so I stalled a bit, iWe donit really have to come.i Then she insisted, iNo, you have to bring George. It would be magical! George and I are old friends. And were having a great cocktail party, you will really enjoy it. Get up here!i
This sounded more convincing so I got directions and we were on our way. On route George said, iLook, Iim really tired and I donit want to stay at the party for long, thatis your kind of thing so have a great time. When we get there be sure to ask where we will be sleeping.i
These are the standard George party directions, he likes to make an appearance, but doesnit like to stay long. George sometimes likes to have a beer, but he was still sick and was taking antibiotics so I knew he wouldnit drink. His cough and had subsided some but I was still worried about him.
When we arrived at the party, Cynthia was in the driveway and came down to greet us. She was really excited to see George. She escorted us up to a nice afternoon garden cocktail party and proceeded to introduce George to all the iimportanti people.
The Mansion was just how I imagined it. It was built like a Southern mansion, 3 stories, white, large columns in the front and patios surrounding the entire house on all three levels. After introductions Cynthia showed us to some really nice lounges in the Garden and I went for drinks (coke for him, T and T for me). The party was for Cynthiais husband Gerardis 80th birthday. He had been very sick for the last couple of years so you could tell everyone was really glad to see him. The party had a 20is theme and most people were dressed up. The croud was made up of relatives of all ages and friends who were mostly grey. We really didnit fit in, George looked crazy in his blue swimming shorts and pink short sleeve shirt and I didnit look so hot in my shorts and a tee shirt. I figured who cares, where do we fit in?
We didnit know anyone at the party except Cynthia, so we just sat back and watched. Throughout the evening when wandering around or getting a drink a person would stop and look at me like, iWho are you?i and I would quickly introduced myself and say, iIim here with George Whitman.i
That would confuse most, but a couple of people stopped and said iWow!i
While George and I relaxed in the garden we noticed three little girls running around all who looked just like little Pias. They were the daughters of Piais sister Lucinda. They really enamoured George. He was instantly in love with Lucinda. iSheis the best in the family.i he kept on saying, iThe others are just out to marry rich men, but look at her, 5 kids, married to a painter, sheis incredible!i
George and I hung at the party for about an hour and then I went and told Cynthia that George was getting tired and wanted to rest. Cynthia showed us to the iChina Roomi, very nice, completely decorated. There was a guy in the room when we arrived but he quickly grabbed his stuff and left.
I found out later that it was Lucindais husband who is very antisocial. I heard that after that, he left the party and didnit return until late the next day to pick up his family (they live in Montreal too).
George was happy to go to bed and I went back down to the party. The interior of the house was even more impressive that the outside. It was filled with priceless works of art, mainly African, Chinese and the most incredible collection of pre-Colombian clay figures, some over 3000 years old. I spent most the evening wandering around looking at the artifacts. I did meet and talk to a couple people. Scott was a neighbor, in his 70is and an old Scot whose parents had immigrated to Canada. The other was Hillary who was really nice, probably gay, played the piano and was one of the curators of one of the main museums in Montreal. They were both cool and it was nice to talk to somebody.
During the evening Hillary gave a presentation of the iBenjamin Familyi dedicated to Geraldis 80th. It was funny with lots of slides and gags. Later in the evening Hilliard played the piano for everyone, mainly show tunes, Cole Porter, George Gershwin and the like. He was good, most people were pretty buzzed and joined in singing. This was probably the highlight of the evening for me. I hung at the party until it started to shut down. I never really talked to Cynthia and Benjamin but they were always busy as the hosts. Finally I went up to sleep on the floor, leaving unnoticed, just as I had arrived.
Sunday, June 29th - A day in Montreal
I was kind of loopy this morning. I was feeling like maybe we imposed, kicking a guy out of his room, that I really didnit get to know the hosts and that we should leave and get a hotel. I was paranoid. We were staying at a guyis house neither of us met, and I didnit get to know his new wife either. I learned at the party that Cynthia and Gerald had been married for 4 years, had met at a Montreal Bar, and married a year later. His first wife had passed away some years before. I told this to George later and he said, iGod, I loved staying in that house, it was right out of a gothic novel!i
So Anyway, I feel like a stranger in a big house, full of relatives and I want to leave. I tell George my concerns. He says, iWhat's a matter with you? I love this place. Letis stay at least another night, I want to rest.i
iI donit know, I have a funny feeling, we donit know the guy who owns the house.i
iLook, I know Cynthia very well. I helped her out in Paris. I let her have a photo exposition at the bookstore so she owes me. Go down and make friends and quit bugging me. I want to rest!i
George wanted the food bag from the car so I went down and got it. On my way I saw Lucinda and her kids in the TV room, I smiled and they smiled back. Those were the only people I saw and I returned to our room. Now I was being strange and anti-social. I was nervous to meet Gerard in the hall. He didnit even know who I was. Paranoia. George was sitting back, reading and laughing at me. iI donit know about this place,i I said.
He just smiled and shook his head. I was really starting to stew so I decided to confront my uneasiness. I went back out to the car, grabbed something I didnit need and on the way back I ran into Cynthia. She was moving the furniture from the garden back on to the patio. I stopped and asked if I could help. I spent the next half hour with lots of the family moving the furniture around. They were all very nice and this made me feel better. Afterward, Cynthia gave me a tour of the kitchen, showed me where the food, dishes, utensils, etc were and told me to help myself. They had lots of leftover food and drinks and needed to get rid of them. She asked if George needed anything and I said some chicken soup would be good and we proceeded to put together a nice tray for George. While the soup was cooking I went upstairs and told George that everything was cool and that we should definatly stay another night.
He laughed at me. iSo now you want to stay another night? You must be schizophrenic!i We both laughed. I told him that the soup was on and he was really happy. iSo youire going to go out and enjoy Montreal today arenit you?" he said.
I said for sure, that I was going to leave right after I brought up his meal. George had a great day of relaxing and reading, two things in life he really enjoys.
On my way out I saw Cynthia and told her I was going to tour the city for a few hours. She said fine, and then invited me to go to see her photos in an outdoor show that evening. She was part of an exposition in a park and all of the photos were really large.
iAnd we will stop for cocktails.i she said. iHilliard and another friend of mine are going and they are both very interesting. We will have a wonderful time. Is 7:30PM OK?i
This was really nice of her and I agreed immediately. She asked me if I though George might like to go, I said no, probably not and she quickly agreed. She really did know George.
I really didn't do much that day. I needed to use a computer to do some email so I drove to a part of town I saw earlier that had Internet CafEs. I really needed to email Kelly iSoul flowing through her hands and feeti MacDonald whom lived in New Brunswick and we were going that direction.
I met Kelly in Essaouira, Morocco. Her nickname is a fantastic story. We were a bunch of friends hanging out drinking on the roof of The Hotel Beau Rivage in Essaouira during the Fete Du Mutton. This is the Muslim day where all families who can afford to, buy a sheep or a goat and slaughter it at their house. We had some beers, a bottle of Whisky and Kelly brought her own bottle of Jamison's Scotch. She told us the story of her day while taking big swigs off her bottle. "So I went up on the Roof of my hostel this morning and hung out with the Sheep. It was a really nice sheep." she said with a tiny slur. Then she calmly said, "I went down to my room for a while and all of the sudden I heard this big thump. I went back up to the Roof and the family was there and the sheep was lying dead on the floor. There was lots of blood. They asked me to join them for dinner. I just left and came over here."
We all murmured things like, "Wow, that's weird" and "Oh man, what a drag" but then quickly changed the subject. We talked about whatever and Kelly joined in and seemed fine. She was drinking her bottle pretty hard.
Then, all of the sudden, she turned pale, stood up, walked of the center of the tiles on the roof, got down on her fours and began to vomit. We all went over to help her, try to hold her hair, etc. She lashed out at us to keep away. We went back over the table and got our chairs and to be near but not to close. Then it began. She started to chanting, "My soul is flowing from my feet and hands" over and over again.
We tried to give her logical explanations like, "Itis the alcohol" but this didn't help. She kept on, "My soul is flowing from my feet and hands" and we sat there, three chairs just behind her not knowing what to do. Kurt comes up with a brilliant idea, to call the Captain. Kurt gets out his cell and types a text message, "On roof, Kelley's soul flowing from feet and hands, need help" and sends it. We get an instant reply, "Be right up."
Were happy. We tell Kelly the Captain is coming. She seems relieved but continues to chant. The next part is like a dream. It seemed that Captain Christoph arrived out of the mist looking ten years younger. He strode up to Kelly, bent down and whispered something in her ear, got up and walked back off the deck into the mist. She was instantly cured. No more chanting. She got up, wiped off her face, turned around and saw the three of us sitting there in the middle of the deck and said, "What's wrong with you guys. I'm fine. Letis go out to dinner." So what were the magic words? "Be calm Kelley, people spend their lives trying to get to where youire at right now..."
After I emailed Kelly, I ate at an old favorite "Taco Bravo" and then drove around for a little while. Then I returned to the Mansion with ice for George and a six pack for me. George was doing great when I returned. He was reading and snacking on some crackers. I was dieing to play my guitar so I asked Cynthia if there was a place I could play. She told me there was an empty room on the third floor. Perfect. I grabbed three beers and went up. It was really excellent, the room was completely empty so the sound was great. This was my only real session of the trip. Afterwards I went back down to our room and took a nap on the floor. I woke to the sound of Piano. George had just eaten and was happy lying in bed and reading, his favorite pastime. He was definatly not interested in joining the party. I looked at the clock and it was 7:15. I could tell by the songs that it was Hilliard playing. Knowing our engagement was at 7:30, I quickly washed up and went downstairs.
Hilliard was at the Grand Piano and Cynthia, her German friend and an artist lady were sitting on the stairs. I wondered where Gerald was because I really hadn't met him yet. I grabbed a beer and sat on the floor. They all seemed happy to see me. Hilliard was playing all the same types of classics as the night before, Gershwin, Porter and the like. We sang the words when we knew them. After a half hour Gerald joined us and I was introduced. Then he went up the stairs and sat next to his wife. I noticed that he looked at her as he approached but she never returned his gaze. I was perplexed. I thought at least smile, or maybe small kiss. I wondered about their relationship. Gerald was charming. Well dressed, longish hair, quite aristocratic. He kept on saying after each classic, "How come no one writes songs like that anymore?" We drank and sang Beatles, Cats and Sinatra and the next thing you know it was 9:30 so I guessed we weren't going out. Hilliard was tried from the night before so he got up to leave and we all said goodbye. Then Cynthia went to order Chinese for dinner. This was a great opportunity for me to get a chance to talk to Gerald. I was really interested in the hundreds of little clay pre-Colombian figurines that were in fancy glass cabinets in the living room so I asked him about them. He said, "I'll tell you about them in a minute, first I must find the slides from last nights presentation."
I said I had seen them earlier but wasn't sure where they were. He said, "That someone, I'm not going to mention names, must have moved them."
So we searched around and I ended up finding them in the Photo Room. This was another incredible room in the house filled with Gerald's and Cynthia's Photography. Most of the photos were of People from Africa and the east. Since we had found the slides, Gerald gave me a tour of the figurines. It was really amazing. We went from cabinet to cabinet and he explained the age of the pieces and where they were created. He had at least a hundred pre-Colombian pieces that were over 3000 years old. He explained to me that you could tell by the hair and feet which village in South America in which they were created. Then we went to the Mexican and Mayan cabinets and he told me about those distinguishing characteristics. He would say, "Because of this hairstyle they are Chippiwa, and because of these features they are from the Yesco."
As he talked about the figures he would grab them right out of the cabinet and hand them to me. I just kept on thinking "Priceless." I was blown away and because I was truly interested, not just smoozing him, he really warmed up to me and gave me a full tour of all of his artworks all over the house. African Jade, old masks, Chinese Vases, ETC. I was dissapointed when the food arrived and the tour ended, but we had a great conversation over dinner.
They were all well travelled, and since I had been on the road for awhile too, we had lots of stories to share. We discussed China, Morocco, SE Asia, Black Africa ETC. All of 4 of them were Canadians so during the conversation they had to bring up how well Canadians were treated travelling and how they were surprised that I was treated well in Morocco. They even went as far to say that some of their American friends say they are Canadian when they travel so they are treated better. This was too much for me. I quickly gave them my USA/Canada and New Zealand/Australia comparison followed by its "The Individual" not the "Country" speal. Realizing I was surrounded and they weren't buying my philosophies, we all mutually changed the subject. I told George about this later and he said, "Of course, I used to say that I was from Canada too."
Gullibly I said, "Really."
He said, "Certainly not!" and smiled at me. Typical George.
Besides the "Canadian" detour the conversation was great. I was happy to see Gerald and Cynthia smiling at each other as they told stories. I saw that they really do have a lot in common and that they love each other. After ice cream we were all ready to hit the hay. I was happy get to know Cynthia and Gerald, both really interesting professional photographers and all around good people.
Monday, May 30th - Road to Halifax
Even though the place was excellent, we decided to leave in the morning. Before we left we all had Breakfast together. This was the first time that George and Gerald were in the same room together. George had spent the entire two days in the China Room. They didn't talk much at the table.
George told some stories about his time in China and gave Gerald one of his brochures. Gerald looked at it quickly, smiled, and went back to reading his paper. Cynthia talked of her time at Shakespeare and noticed the picture in George's book that she took and brought out the original in a big frame (the picture of a lady reading to her child on the stair on the first floor that says "Live for Humanity"). I just sat back and watched. After breakfast we grabbed our bags and made for the car. Cynthia gave us both big hugs.
Then she said to me, "I can't wait to hear about the rest of you trip and I'm very interested in what becomes of you! I wish I would have gotten to hear you play your guitar." I was very flattered. I told her I would send her my memoirs and photos from the trip and that made her happy. As we were pulling away she came running out with the leftover Chinese food, which I wasn't happy about because all of out food bag arguements, but she did it with the best intentions.
We had a great ride east. We drove around Quebec City and then on to Riverre du Loup where we stopped for lunch. This was disastrous. George was hungry for some soup so we parked and checked out a few restaurants. George had a problem with each menu, too expensive, not the right kind of soup or no seafood chowder. George was really anxious to get to Nova Scotia where they have the best seafood chowder anywhere. We finally found a pub that we agreed on and we went in and sat down. We grabbed own menus when we went in and found a table. This is the way George does things. Never waste time. Never wait for the Waiter to bring the menu, get it yourself. The waitress came over to take our order and George asked what kind of Soup they had. "Cream of Tomato," the waitress replied. George had a distressed look on his face. "Oh god, lets go," he said and stood up to leave. I had been driving for 6 hours and was really hungry.
"Common George, you can find something, I want some Iced Tea and a Burger," I said.
"Iced tea?" he screamed. We have perfectly good coffee in the car. What's wrong with that? I don't want anything here, let's go!"
I was kind of mad but we left and returned to the car. What I didn't realize was that in our prompt departure I left my journal in the restaurant. This would come to haunt me for the rest of the trip.
We got back on the road and I began to lament. "Man, thatis the last town for 100 Miles, I'm Hungary." He replied, "We have the Chinese food, what's wrong with that?" I thought to myself, "Cold crappy Chinese food, now that will be great." George could tell I was a little mad. George would look over at me and shake his head whenever he thought I was upset. We both had to take a piss I found a place behind a truck stop. As I'm pissing, I look over and see George laid out on a dirt bank with one of his shoes off. He had just wiped out trying to walk up a four foot tall bank of loose dirt. I guess on the way up his shoe fell off because it wasn't buckled and he tumbled. There was lots of dirt on the knees of his suit and he was sitting there trying to regain composure. I finish my business and run over to help him up and ask him why he was trying to go up the bank.
"I've got to take off my pants to take a leak, I need to go up in the woods, I canit do it here," he promptly stated. I'm thinking, "Jesus Christ, this is insane!" But, I go with it and help him up the bank and he walks about 20 yards into the woods. As he went I yelled "Be careful, poison ivy!"
He grumbled, threw his arm back at me and continued off. I keep and eye on him as he pisses and he doesn't drop his pants to his knees.
After he was done I show him an easy way down the bank and wipe the dirt off the knees of his only suit. We got back on the road and he smiles at me and I start to laugh. He was always putting me on.
Hungary and very thirsty I broke out a coke and some crackers and George and I snacked on our last bit of substance besides the Chinese leftovers that had been haunting me all day. Is were munching George says, "We have been on this big Highway for long enough, lets get off and take the country road."
Iim starving in a bad mood, but at this point defeated, so I figure why not and take the next exit. We had been driving along this river for awhile and the small road took us to the other side. The sun was setting and the sky and the river turned purple. Suddenly, as we came around a corner, there was a large Moose in the middle of the road. It was magical. I had told George earlier in the trip that I had seen almost every kind of animal in North America in the wild except for a Moose. And there it was. George grabbed my arm smiled and said, "Slow down; they can be unpredictable!"
I smiled and slowed down as the Moose ran off into the woods. This was a wonderful moment for both of us. These ups and downs were typical of our whole trip. I could never stay in a bad mood for long. Somehow, George would always do something to snap me out.
Soon it was dark and we needed a place to stay. Friedrickson was not far off so we decide to stay there. as we drove George told me a wonderful travel story.
Once he and a girl friend travelled from Boston to Laredo, crossed the border, found an abandoned boat, fixed it up a little and sailed it 10 days down into Mexico. Talk about Romantic. She was with him for a month before she returned to the states, but he continued to walk, hitchhike and take trains all the way to Chile.
This is the way of George. He acts totally crazy, pisses me off, then we laugh, then he blows me away with an incredible story.
We were half way through our trip and I can honestly say it was possibly the most stressful couple of weeks of my life. But also the most wonderful. Stressful because I really care about George and he had been sick with a bad cough for most of the time. Wonderful because everyday George would tell me stories of his life that are all truly amazing. This is a man who has done everything and was now sharing his stories with me. I wouldn't have given up that time for anything in the world.
When we arrived in Freidrickson it was fairly late and we could only find one Hotel near the highway. George wanted to look for a cheaper place but he saw that I was tired and agreed to stay there. It was a nice hotel with a family restaurant next door so we would have a short walk for dinner.
When we got up to the room George was really loopy. He turned on the TV and started laughing for no reason. I figure delirium had set in. I tell him that I'm going back down to the car to get my diary and that he should get ready for dinner. While laughing walks over to the food bag and says, "We don't need to go out, we have that Chinese food right here," and starts to dig the containers out. Nope, not delirious. Right on the ball. I think, "Oh well, what can I do."
When I get down to the car I can't find my Diary. I panic. I look through the car three times. I know I left it on the back seat but it wasn't there. Where the hell could it be? I run up to our room and begin tearing through my backpack. George looks at me and wonders what is up. I run over to the food bag, not there either. I ask George, "Man, have you seen my diary, I can't find it anywhere!" He looks at me shaking his head, tasting the Chinese, and says "Of course not."
I then realize that the last time I had it was in Rivere du Loop and I must have left it at the Pub Restaurant. I'm really stressed. Luckily I have lots of change so I go down the payphone to call the restaurant.
First I call information and luckily there is only one pub in Rivere du Loop. I call the restaurant and the lady isnit understanding my English and my French is no good either. She puts me on hold to get the manager. I realize this wonit be easy. The manager comes on and I tell him the story, that I left my old brown notepad and that itis really important that I find it. Almost before Iim finished he says, iItis not here.i I beg, iPlease look!i
He says in a snotty French accent, iCall back tomorrow, maybe the day manager knows where it is.i
Iim devastated, how will I rewrite all of those days? I return to the room with my head low.
iDid they find it,i George asks. George was impressed that I had been writing and was concerned.
iNope, they told me to call back tomorrow.
Then he stated the plain truth. iYour notepad looked so old and ragged. Iill bet the waitress just threw it away.i
I was really bummed. I would call back, but it was never found. I guess it really didnit matter, we were over six hours away and it would have take an entire day to go back and get. That night I bought a new notepad and I would spend the next week re-writing the old from the front and documenting the new from the back. On the front I wrote in big letters, iREWARD; if found please return to, and I listed my name and address.
The drama was over and I was starving, so I ask George, iHowis the Chinese.i
iTerrible! It has no flavor. We should just throw it away and get some real food.i
Iim shocked, but very happy because I wasnit in the mood for cold Chinese. I grab the containers, toss them in the trash and were off to the Family Kitchen.
We had a great down home meal. George got roast beef with mashed potatoes and I got some pork chops. I forgot about my dairy and George was in a great mood told me about a trip across Canada he did with his family.
Georgeis eyes sparkled as told me about one of his favorite train rides ever. iWe left from Boston, up to Montreal and than all the way across Canada to Vancouver. There was a dining car that served the best food. Every morning we would have Pancakes and Maple Syrup and they were the best I have ever had! They also had a double decker observer car and my sister and I would go up top and spend the days there. The Canadian Rockies were truly amazing. Canada is a great country!i
After dinner we returned to the hotel. I began to rewrite my journal and George watched some classic TV.
Tuesday, July 1st n Canada Day!!!!
This was another truly memorable day. It began with a beautiful drive from New Brunswick to Nova Scotia and ended with a festival and fireworks in Halifax.
In the morning we woke early, around 8:00 AM because we wanted to get an early start. We were about six hours from our next destination, Halifax, and wanted to have time to see the town before getting a hotel. George made the coffee and I grabbed our bags and we were quickly on the road.
It was a beautiful ride through the forests of New Brunswick and after a few hours we were at the border of Nova Scotia and we stopped at the Information Center. This is when it first hit us that it was Canada Day. There were flags everywhere and two ladies were on the sidewalk in front of the Info building serving free drinks and Canadian Flag Cake. They were also giving away free mini Canadian flags.
We walked immediately to the tables and got some refreshments. We both got two flags, a glass of juice and a piece of cake. George was really happy. He smiled at the two lady servers and said, iThank You,i one of the nicest I have ever heard. He almost sang the words.
Then we went in and got all kind of brochures for all of the cities in Nova Scotia that we were going to visit. It was a great visitoris center. It even had a little photo history exhibit that George and I browsed before going back for seconds from the cake ladies out front.
Back out on the Road we put on our favorite radio station, NPR Canada. We listened to the different affiliates during our entire time in Canada. There was one program where a lady read her book. We caught three days straight and were both really impressed. On the last day George said, iShe is really great, we need more people like that reading at our bookstore.i I nodded and kept on driving.
We arrived in Halifax at around two oiclock and spent the first hour driving around trying to find a cheap place to stay. In our guide George found an ad for local universities that rented out rooms for cheap so we tried them first. It was really hard to find the housing offices and when we did we were out of luck. It happened to be iFreshman Weeki and all the dorms were filled with incoming students.
Next we tried the only youth hostel listed in the book. They were really nice but didnit have any rooms. George really liked the girl who was at the desk so I went to the car a got one of our brochures. George gave it to her and invited her to come and visit us in Paris. She was awestruck and apologized again that they didnit have any rooms. She suggested Dallworth College but we had already been there.
We were both hungry so we decided to take a break and have some lunch down by the water. We found a nice seafood place with free parking and went in. Everything was nice, we sat outside and the waiter took our order right away. I got a Margarita and a burger and he got the seafood soup and some iced tea. The drinks came right away but after 10 minutes George started to complain. He really hates to wait at restaurants.
iWhatis going on here, itis been over ten minutes, how long does it take them to get a bowl of soup?i
iI got a burger and that takes longer. Usually they bring the food together to be polite.i
Then he starts to really rave, iWhat a racket! Thatis crazy! Iim hungry now. They can serve you when itis ready. And why did you order this iced tea, its terrible. What a racket! I wouldnit deprive you, why do they deprive me? Why didnit you order the Seafood Soup?i
iSorry George, try a sip off my Margarita, its really good,i and I had him my glass.
iThereis no tequila in there. This place is crooked as hell!i
Finally the food came but George was still not happy.
iLook at this, why do they put shrimp and scallops in seafood soup? They have no flavor.i I ask him for a little sip.
iWow, but that really tastes good!i
iSure it tastes good, thatis just the sauce, look at all these shrimp, you lunatic!i
I laugh and he smiles a little. If you make George wait he is always going to find something wrong. Remember, donit waste time!
After lunch we crossed the river into Dartmouth to look for some of the Bed and Breakfastis in the guide. Most of them were out on the coast so the drive was really nice. The first one we went to wanted $100 and that was too much. The second one was in a great location, right next to the shore so we drove up to take a look. George knocked on the door but no one answered. George checks the door and it was unlocked so he went in.
iHello, Hello?i I heard him say as he went in. A few minutes go by and I see him in the upstairs window smiling and waving at me. I figure he has found the owner and was getting a tour. Five minutes later he comes out and Says, iThis place is great! Grab the bags and let go in.i
iHow much is iti
iI donit know there isnit anybody home.i
I canit believe it. iThen we canit go in! Weill have to come back when they are home.i
George Smiles. iAlright, but who knows when they will return!i
George loves to do things in an unconventional way, but he knew that moving into someoneis house without talking to them was a bit too bold.
We searched on for other B&Bis but didnit find anything that great.
On the way back we stopped at the Howard Johnson in Dartmouth. I went in and talked to the desk guy and he was really cool. He still had some rooms but it was a bit too expensive. He asked where I was from and I told him Paris and that I was travelling with a famous owner of Shakespeare and Company. He was intrigued. To be super cool he gave us some really great discounted rate, like $100 with parking for room that usually go for $150. I also noticed that we would be in walking distance to the big Canada Day Festival that was just starting down by the harbor. I really wanted to stay there. I returned to the car and told George about the deal.
iItis too much! Letis go back over to Halifax and try to find something.i
iBut George, its Canada Day. Everything will be sold out. The guy is giving us a great deal and there is a festival right down the street, Lets stay here.i
i$100 is too much! We will find something cheaper!i
I really donit feel like driving around anymore. We have already been looking for hours. Nothing doing. I was the driver and he had ultimate veto power.
So we drove back across the bridge to Halifax and began to check out more hotels. Everyone was either full or too expensive. Iim starting to get mad.
iWhy donit we go back to the Howard Johnson? It was nice and had rooms.i
iLetis not give up yet, there's still a few more in the brochure that we didn't check.i
iAlright,i I say dejectedly. iBut I donit want to drive around all night.i
We check another place, sold out. Then we find this old English Inn way out in the middle of nowhere. George goes in and comes out looking happy.
iThey have a room, it only has one bed but itis only $90. I told you we would find a cheaper place!i
Iim fuming. iLook George, the Howard Johnson has nice rooms, I really donit want to sleep on the floor. Canit we just go back?i
iBut this place is less expensive!i
iLook, Iill pay the damned $10 difference. That place is way better!i
George can tell Iim really getting angry so he replies, iOk, letis stop arguing. We can go back to your hotel. But I told you I would find a cheaper place!i
When we are on our way back across the bride, Iim praying that the HJ didnit sell out. Crap. Then we would really be in a jam because by the time we got back to the Inn in Halifax it would surly be sold out.
When we arrived at the HJ I ran in and luckily he still had rooms. He was glad to see me and I told him about our adventure driving around for hotels. He laughed and said, iWow, Iid really like to meet that old man.i
I told him we would stop by and he gave me the keys to our room and the electronic pass for the Garage. We went down and parked and took the garage elevator directly to the floor to our room. When we entered I couldnit believe my eyes. It was a giant suite with two double beds and a kitchen. The guy really set us up. George was so impressed he didnit even complain about paying more.
iWhat, are we staying at the Ritz? This place has enough room for eight people!i he said.
After some minor unpacking we went down to the hotel restaurant for some dinner. On our way we stopped at the desk so George could meet the clerk and we gave him one of Georgeis Brochures. George was really nice and invited him to come to Paris.
"Thanks a lot Mr. Whitman!" he said, "I may be going to Paris next year and I will stop by." This was amazing. What other man travels around inviting everyone to stay in his home. Truly remarkable.
Dinner was great. George knew Howard and Johnson were famous for pancakes, so we both ordered pancakes with fruit and bacon. We were both in great moods after dinner so I asked George if he would like to go down to the harbor to the festival with me for an hour. He agreed and we were on our way.
The festival was really nice. There was a big stage with a Canadian Rock band playing and a big Beer Garden. I grabbed a beer and we watched the band from the beer garden. After half an hour they announced that the fireworks would start soon and the band played their final number.
"Let's go down by the Harbor to watch the fireworks." I said.
"Your not drunk enough," he replied. "So go and get us a couple beers!"
I went and got two beers but you werenit allowed to leave the garden with them. I notice the young security guys werenit really paying attention so I put the beers in my back pockets and smuggled them out. Then we walked down by the water to watch the fireworks.
It was one of the most fantastic experiences of my life. I opened our beers, put my arm around George and we watched the Canada Day fireworks show. While the show was going I reflected on our trip, all the wild things that had happened, coming all the way from Paris, and there we were, in Canada, Canada day, big festival, drinking a beer and watching fireworks together. It gave me goose bumps. What a crazy trip. And, I was sure there was lots of craziness yet to come!
iMan, isnit this awesome! Who would have thought?i I said
George was also having a great time, so many people. He quietly replied, iYes, it is nice.i
After the show I walked George back to the hotel. He went up to bed and I went back to the festival.
The streets were really packed. There were tons of teens everywhere. I went back down to the Festival, got some beers and watched the band play for awhile.
The band was really good. There were 8 members in the band, drums, bass, two guitars, keyboards, violin and two singers, and guy and a girl. They played a variety of cover songs in French and English. For their last song they played a great extended version of "Oh Canada."
I was really impressed. Then a guy comes up on stage with a thick Canadian accent and announces, "I'm glad you liked the previous band, but wait, I see a limo pulling up with our special guests!"
I look over to the side of the stage and a limo is driving up with all of its lights flashing. The stage crew is frantically rearranging the stage. The limo driver gets out and goes to the back door and stands at attention.
The MC continues, "Ok, is everybody ready?"
The crowd roars and the stage crew gives the thumbs up.
"Alright, here they are," the MC stalled here and some music came on, "Elvis Presley and Michael Jackson!"
I couldn't believe my eyes. A fat middle aged Elvis and a white guy with a black wig, one white glove and a bright red shirt jump out of the limo and run across the stage. The crowd went wild. I was dumbfounded.
Minutes later the big Elvis guy is karokeing away to all of Elvis's classics. His singing was marginal but I'm sure he paid a lot for his white rhinestone laden jumpsuit.
Then the white Michel Jackson comes on and he doesnit even sing. He just moonwalks around the stage.
What an incredible anti-climax. Why would they have two American pop idol impressionists headline their national holiday? Especially after such a stomping good version of "Oh Canada"? These guys were terrible. No one was laughing. If I was Canadian I would be yelling "Blasphemy!"
I did notice that during these acts the croud really died off. Maybe they are just smarter than me. Maybe Elvis and Michael were an elaborate form of crowd control. I had to give them the benefit of the doubt, there had to be a good reason, oh Canada!
I had enough by Elvis's second set so I tossed my beer and went back to the hotel to crash. I should have left when that limo was pulling up. I wandered home shaking my head.
Wednesday, July 2nd n Road to Yarmouth
Since our room was so nice, we slept in and relaxed watching TV until 11:00 AM. Then we checked out and started our drive east to Yarmouth. When we left George said, Letis go back by the harbor before we leave town."
We drove by the sight of the festival and George reflected, "That was the second greatest highlight of our trip. The greatest was staying at that mansion in Montreal. It was like a gothic novel!"
From Halifax we headed east towards a little city that George knew about called Peggyis Cove. He wanted to stop there for some Clam Chowder. It's a tiny city with the lighthouse being the main attraction. The lighthouse is surrounded by restaurants and little souvenir shops. A real tourist trap.
When we arrived the parking lot was full and there were lots of tourist busses and people everywhere. George was amazed. "This used to be a little town where a few people would stop for clam chowder. Now look at it!"
After circling a few times we finally found a spot and parked. We walked out to the lighthouse and there was a very nice view of rocky coves on the Atlantic.
We sat and watched people go by. We were hungry so after awhile we walked down to the restaurant.
"This place is packed," I said to George.
"It's because they are famous for their clam chowder."
There was a half hour wait. "We can't wait that long!" exclaimed George, "Lets go, we'll find somewhere else. But they do have the best clam chowder."
We got back on the road drove for an hour until we stopped for lunch in a little town called Liverpool. We both ordered Iced Tea and our Nova Scotia staple, clam chowder. George never wants order iced tea even though he really likes it.
The waitress walks up with menus and George says, "Clam chowder. We both want clam chowder."
"We only have fish chowder." she replies.
"Fish Chowder then, two fish chowders."
The girl smiles, "Would you like some drinks?"
I say, "Yes, two iced teas."
"I just want chowder, I don't want any iced tea!" replies George.
"Sure you do. A nice cold drink!"
"Why do you always order the tea, it's never strong enough. We have perfectly good coffee in the car!"
"Just get a iced tea, you will like it"
"Ok, letis not argue about it."
The girl is confused so I look at her and say, "Fish chowder and two iced teas."
George grumbles. When the girl brought our teas, George tasted it and said, "See, not strong enough!"
I agreed and said, "But it sure is good."
Of course George always ended up drinking the tea.
The fish chowder arrived and it was really good.
"Man, this is great fish chowder!" I say.
He replies with the air of a true expert, "Its OK, spicier than yesterday, but not enough fish."
I know he will never be satisfied, but at least the chowder was getting better.
After lunch we had a really great drive to Yarmouth and talked a lot.
"Hey George, have you ever owned a car?"
"No, never. But I did do a lot of driving. Once, my mother and I took a road trip from Salem all the way to Mexico City."
iWow, thatis a long way into Mexico. How long did it take you to get there from the border?i
iWhat? Itis not very far. Just a day ride, not more than 700 miles.i
I raise my eyebrows. iDid your mother enjoy the trip?i
iShe wanted to learn Spanish but it was too difficult for her so she became discouraged.i
I looked out the window and there was a farm with a big red barn.
"George, have you ever worked on a farm?"
"Once my father was once looking to buy a farm. He couldn't find anything in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire or Maine. I wanted to experience working on a farm, so to make it up to me, he sent me to my great uncle's farm to work for a summer. It was in Randolph, NH."
"Did you like it?"
"It was OK, but I didn't want to do it again. One of my favorite jobs was when I was the conductor on a trolley in San Francisco."
"Really, were did it run?"
"From San Francisco over the Golden Gate Bridge to Oakland. I gave away as many free rides as I could, especially to pretty girls! I also worked in the Mission District making Tamales. San Francisco was a beautiful city."
I figure that had to be in the late thirties after he graduated from Boston College.
George has so many incredible stories, itis just hard to get him to tell them.
Driving along the highway you had to make lots of turns to keep in the direction of Yarmouth. At one point I missed a turn and George pointed it out. I looked and my rear-view mirror and he was right so I made a u-turn.
"Man, I'm glad I could finally be of use to you. He said with a smile. "Up until now your driving has been impeccable!
As we approached Yarmouth, I asked George, "Tell me about your friend we are visiting in Yarmouth."
"He's one of the richest men in town! His family owned a fleet of fishing trawlers."
"Really; what's his name?"
"I can't remember."
"So how will we find him?"
"We'll find him. If he's in town that is, he travels a lot"
I look back at him and say, "Ok."
George has no address, no telephone number and can't remember the guyis name. I figure we will just go to nicest neighborhood in town and knock on doors and say, "Do you know George Whitman?"
As usual, George knew more than he admitted, but he truly couldn't remember the guyis name.
When we got into town we went around and checked the price of every hotel. Luckily it's a small town so this only took an hour. While we were driving George shouted, "Look, the building, thatis my friend!"
It was the Laurence Sweeney Museum.
"Laurence Sweeney? That's your Friend? Wow, he must be rich with his own Museum. I guess we can go there to find him."
"Don't be ridiculous. He is on the board of directors of the Public Library. We will find him there."
I nod my head and look at George like, "Alright man, you got it going on!"
While checking out the town we also stopped at the major Supermarket to restock the food bag. The place was giant and George was amazed.
"Look at all these varieties! I've never seen so muck food in my life!"
George is used to our little Parisian markets, so this was fun for George. We didn't need that much, but George wanted to go down every asile to see what was available. I just tried to make sure anything we did get wouldn't spoil.
After the market we continued our Hotel search. Most of them were really nice and over $100 Canadian. The last place we checked was the best, a family run place called the Midtown Motel. It was right off the strip and in walking distance to the Restaurants and Public Library.
We both went in to check the price. The hotel was run by a couple, Rosalie and Victor Indig. There also was a semi retarded 'Uncle' who lived there too. When we entered the uncle came up to shake our hands and Rosalie shewed him away. The uncle was nice, just a bit slow.
George takes command, "How much for a night?"
"$89 an night, but I guess your a senior so I will make it $75," Rosalie replied.
"That's a lot, we were really looking for something around $50."
"OK, how about $65?"
"That's a deal!" George said slamming his fist on the counter.
I was really impressed. George is the master. There is no way I would have gotten her down that low. I wouldn't even had thought to barter.
Our room was nice. It was small with two single beds and a TV. The walls had wood panelling and there was a big bathroom and shower.
After settling in and resting for an hour we decided to walk around town and then go to Ruddles, the seafood restaurant that Rosalie suggested for us.
Yarmouth is a nice little Canadian city. Everyone seemed happy and greeted you on the street. With his pink floral shirt and Thai elephant pants, George was somewhat of an attraction. George also has some aura about him. No matter where we went on our trip, people always looked at him, smiled and said something like, "Hello Sir" or "Good Afternoon." I saw it as a very interesting phenomenon.
"Man, I really like this town," I said to George as we were strolling around.
"I knew you would like it. That's why were here!" he replied.
I was really looking forward to the big lobster dinner George and I had been talking about for weeks. Lobster in Yarmouth, yep, it was going to be great.
Ruddles was probably the best restaurant in town judging by the crowd. Most of the other restaurants we passed were fairly empty. The waitress brought us the menus and we were fairly shocked by the prices. The baked lobster was listed at $40 and the regular was M
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