








Alas, it was not going to be as easy as we'd hoped. Gone are the days of easy, breezy, drive-through border crossings, at least if you've got a car full of people with anything other than US or Canadian citizenship. The border guard took all four of our passports and put them in a vacuum mail tube that disappeared into the building adjacent to the parking lot, and sent us all up to the processing room inside.
When we got in it was pandemonium. There were at least 30 people waiting there, including a family with many screaming children and Fox News blaring from the TV mounted in the corner. I had to go to the bathroom, so I thought I'd go there while Jeremi asked for our passports back so that we could leave poor Calin and Susanne in this administrative hell and get on our way to the airport. When I got back from the filthy, reeking toilets, Jeremi did not look happy. It seemed that since the four of us had arrived as one travelling party, we had to be processed altogether, and there would be no queue-jumping for us. There was no room for discussion. We sat down and consigned ourselves to our fate while nervously watching the time.
In the end it didn't take all that long, but it was an immensely uncomfortable wait (though much improved when the group with the screaming children left), and we were happy to get out of there when we could. Between this and the border crossing back (when we had some explaining to do about whose car this was, where do you live again? and why we were only in the US for an hour or so), we didn't have time to meet my family for supper. To be honest, I was so happy that we didn't miss our flight that the disappointment didn't really register until after I'd called my dad from the gate at the airport. (Poor Jeremi just went to the bathroom and came back to find me crying by the pay phones, and thought something terrible must have happened.) But in the end it all worked out okay, we made it to Edmonton, Calin and Susanne got their rental car, and my parents were able to pick up the car, even if they didn't get to meet us for supper.
And one final picture of the falls, to forget all about that stressful border crossing.

No comments:
Post a Comment