The mystery of the tolls
There’s been an evolution in the world of the automobile. Socially, at least. This evening, after we had spent most of the day motoring from one city to another (and back), the instrument screen popped a new emoji. An offer to pause and go for a coffee. Which we did, although the car deferred its cuppa.
This was a full road trip day, over to the big city with its two toll bridges. Just a quick poke to the administrators of the toll section: why is the price a secret? On our first rollup, throwing a handful of silver (uncounted) triggered the gate. On the second stop, we came prepared with the right amount – and the wrong lane. We don’t resemble a city transit bus, so why was that an option. The toll keeper was part way between amused and bemused.
As for parking, we found the invisible people in those tiny huts to be ready to help out. Directing us to the correct parking lot, and reminding us to travel in the appropriate direction on those newfangled tone-way streets. Tourists can provide humorous moments all year long.
We did meet with some surgeons, who took their turns to shine bright lights into my eyes and confirm that I am healing, on schedule. I guess that made our ten hours worthwhile. As we were double-masked, all day long, we don’t appear to have brought the virus back with us. Yes, you can wear two masks and still breathe. A rebuttal to a whole range of YT videos with complainers. Hey, up here in Canada, we protect ourselves… all winter long.
