travel – Page 6 – Britt Skrabanek

The Falls of FUBAR

Flowing energy rushes toward the edge, a slave to its inevitable fate. It builds and builds and builds some more, unwilling to compromise.

Suddenly, it slips.

For a few precious seconds it suspends high in the air, engaging in a soundless symphony.

Then, it falls.

The finale is deafening, like cymbals clanging against the bottom of an unforgiving pit. This masterpiece draws us in – millions year after year.

Niagara Falls.

Embarking on a road trip to Montreal made this a no-brainer overnight stop for us. Mr. H and I booked a crappy chain hotel on the Canadian side, followed our trusty electronic maps, and strapped Ken Follett the cow in his seat.

Along the way we admired ~~Provence~~ upstate New York…

Ten lengthy hours after leaving Milwaukee, we arrived.

It was dark. And the border crossing at Niagara Falls, Canada was completely FUBAR.

Labor Day weekend. Border strike. FUBAR.

There’s something bittersweet about driving across North America, making it to your destination in decent spirits – cramping with hunger, aching from head to toe, delicates lodged in places – and being trapped with all the other bleary-eyed, naive tourists in this…

…for a freaking hour.

Naturally, Mr. H. wasn’t havin’ it. I love him even more for rescuing us from our gridlock hell to nowhere. My hero!

Destined to sleep in our truck on the side of a potholed street, we stumbled into a nearby hotel and luckily they were able to accommodate us. (Nothing like flushing money down the shitter on that unreachable hotel on the Canadian side, eh?)

As usual, we made the best of the situation. We lowered our standards and gleefully stuffed our faces in the familiar chain restaurant attached to the joint.

Mediocre fried food. Cold beer. We were saved.

Feeling tipsy, our sanity obviously questionable, we decided to go to the casino across the street to drink our touristy sorrows away and people watch. We’re not gamblers, so this environment fascinates us.

After a while, what initially seemed intriguing became ho-hum, borderline depressing, and our eyes became heavy. So we stumbled back to our hotel, scented with cigarettes and defeat.

The next day, despite our irritation with the whole charade, we went to the damn falls. We were a tough crowd, but Mother Nature won us over with her minxy appeal.

The credit card bill, the slot machines, and the traffic disappeared in that moment.

Niagara Falls…are they really worth it? The blood, the sweat, the tears?

Hell yeah they are!

Gone Road Trippin’

My dear, fantastic, rad, amazing sweet ones…

I will be out of the blogging office starting tomorrow, August 29th. No social media, pix, comments, likes, etc. – I’m going dark.

Mr. H and I will be embarking on a road trip (or, le road trip as we are lovingly calling it) to Montreal. It’s been almost an entire year since I’ve had a vacation.

(Gasp.)

Tell me about it!

I’ll be back on September 10th with some North American tales. In the meantime, stay cool, be cool, and…I’ll miss you guys!

Yours truly,

Britt

Montreal suggestions, s’il vous plaît

So at the end of August, Mr. H and I are taking a road trip. Not just any road trip, because naturally…it’s going to be super awesome!

Milwaukee to Montreal.

Originally, we were looking at a European excursion, but let’s face it – plane ticket prices are a bit of a buzz kill. And while we’ve been to Europe before, we’ve never visited our upstairs neighbor…Canada.

The closest thing we have to Europe in North America is unarguably Montreal. The runner-up to Paris, it is the second largest French-speaking city in the world.

I imagine a land of crepes where the air is scented with savory and sweet tones. Mmm, crepes. Delicious crepes. Mouth-watering…I apologize. I keep falling into this crepe trance lately.

(Britt slaps her face twice and continues with her blog post.)

Instead of flying, we decided to enjoy the summer drive. All fifteen hours of it.

As cheesy as it is, we are definitely stopping at Niagara Falls on the way. Don’t judge me…I’m a big sap.

We rented a kick ass apartment for our five-night stay through Airbnb, complete with a ginormous terrace and fancy furniture. You can check out our digs right here.

Obviously with Montreal being one of the culinary capitals of the world, we plan to eat. And, we shall eat like there is no tomorrow.

One adventure on our radar is Piknic Electronik, which is one of those outdoorsy shindigs where we listen to rad tunes and get a little silly.

Other than that, we don’t have any plans. Here’s where you come in.

Calling all Montreal natives or previous visitors…what should we do? Any tips or recommendations for restaurants, sights, etc. would be splendid.

Also, give us the tough love. Are there any tourist traps we should avoid?

What’s wrong with having dreams, anyway?

Nasher Sculpture Center - Dallas, TX — Nasher Sculpture Center – Dallas, TX

When we’re babies, our parents have dreams of grandeur of what we will become. The doctor, the scientist, the celebrity.

When we’re kids, every adult we encounter asks us what we want to be when we grow up. And we answer them with conviction. A cowboy, a ballerina, an alien.

When we’re teens, our teachers prepare us for the future, to figure out which piece of expensive paper will pave the path to a fruitful career. Teach and be poor or business and be rich? Choose wisely.

When we’re adults – thrown into the world of bills, loans, and other hyped up seriousness – our dreams tend to fade. Usually, they disappear altogether.

Yet, sometimes they are revived. Quite suddenly you’re doing the things you loved most when you were a kid…coming full circle. You play music, you paint, you write.

You’re not the suit, you’re not the boss, you’re not the mom, you’re not the bachelor, you’re not the assistant, you’re not the alcoholic, you’re not the divorcee, you’re not the nobody.

You’re just you. And, you’re effing happy about it.

If you’re one of these dream-chasing adults, you’re often out of place. Everyone’s playing make-believe, the adults on one side and the children on the other.

Playing adult is allowed, respectable even.

Playing child isn’t. As a matter of fact, you’re the troublemaker.

I’ve done the day job thing most of my life. Hell, I’m doing it now…Monday-Friday, 9-5.

I play dress up every day just so I can play the board game. Buy, sell, trade. I was never any good at Monopoly. I liked ridiculously colorful games like Twister and Candyland.

For me, playing with the grown ups is just a game of pretend.

I will always be the rumpled employee who gets ready for work in five minutes flat, the grown ass woman sleeping with a stuffed animal, the hopeless case daring to dream because she can’t live any other way.

And, I don’t know why it’s so strange and unusual. I mean…what’s wrong with having dreams, anyway?

Chicago in 7.5 Hours

That’s a bunch of BS, really. There’s no way to experience this skyscraper wonderland in less than eight hours.

What we commonly call Chicago comes from the Native American Chicagoua, a word often debated as meaning either garlic or onion. (And, you thought you’d never learn anything on this blog. Shame on you.)

Either way, it’s the stinky veggie we all tend to love.

Normally, I’m the non-tourist type. Mr H. and I blend in with the locals, keep a low profile, and leave the fanny packs at home. Kidding, kidding. We do not own fanny packs.

So, last Saturday I gave Chicago in a day the old college try.

My super awesome sister was visiting from North Carolina, and it was her first adventure in the mid-West. We braved the back and forth trip to the city via Amtrak from Milwaukee.

And, we got down with our tourista selves.

In fact, we may have gone a bit overboard with our tourista selves…

Tourist Trap #1 – Navy Pier (The Unapologetic Bastard)

The Navy Pier is one of those places you’ve got to go to once…and, probably only once. This picture was taken first thing in the morning just before the salivating mobs invaded. There may be other things to see there, but I couldn’t tell you. My sister grabbed some goofy souvenirs and we freaking ran.

Tourist Trap #2 – Chicago River Cruise (The Hopeless Romantic)

Ah, the Chicago River cruise. That fleeting adventure I could never embark upon during my previous trips, because the damn river was either frozen or green. You’ll drop a handful of bucks to take an architecture tour, but as you can see from the pictures, it’s lovely. Absolutely lovely.

Tourist Trap #3 – Chicago History Museum (The Kooky Nerd)

The Chicago History Museum is pretty low on the totem pole as far as museum popularity is concerned in the Windy City. I’m more of a history gal, so this was my kind of place. The coolest thing was the L train from 1893, where you can actually go inside, have a seat, and hang out. I took the interactive option a little bit too far throughout the joint as you can see.

Tourist Trap #4 – Millennium Park (The Shiny Exhibitionist)

Millennium Park is Chicago’s very own Central Park. As this was our last stop on our tourist assault, it was refreshing to see both natives and rubberneckers alike kicking back, enjoying the space, and playing with the Cloud Gate sculpture. (I called it the shiny turd. But, that’s just me.)

Britt’s Chicago Summer Tips

Don’t even think about driving. Walk it, cab it, or ride the “L”. All three will likely give you monster bruises, but you’ll keep your sanity.
Don’t assume the crosswalk is a safe haven. That part about not driving in the city also applies to who’s driving…the natives. They will mow your tourist butt down, so move it along.
Don’t look up while you’re walking. Yes, the buildings are incredible and they soar right into the heavens. Just don’t become a permanent member up there when you wander off the curb with a silly grin on your upturned face.
Don’t wear anything that chafes. Midwest summers are humid as hell! Wear something loose that you won’t regret later, if you know what I mean (wink, wink).

How about you guys? Have you ever tried squeezing every damn thing you can think of in one day of travel?