The alarms on our iPhone went of early. We gathered the last of our stuff, distracted the cat (who was so not impressed by presence of suitcases) with treats and packed up the truck. We made a quick stop to grab some drive-thru coffee and we were on our way.
We listened to music. We talked. We stopped for more coffee. We had the easiest drive ever through Montreal. We missed a turn off for a rest stop when one of us really had to go to the bathroom. We snacked on the food we packed in our cooler. We made each other laugh. We drove each other crazy.
We made surprisingly good time and pulled into our stop for the night way ahead of schedule... even with kind of sort of getting lost but not really. We were on the right road but we hadn't seen the place we were stopping yet and when we pulled up map apps they told us we should be on the other side of town. Our iPhones LIED to us. But it's all good. We found the hotel five minutes later.
We were all cramped up from being in the car all day and somewhat annoyed from kinda sorta but not really getting lost so we went for a short walk around the grounds. We found the river and this happened.
After close to eleven hours in the car and just over 1000 kilometers we found the river and stillness. The resort was behind us. It was quiet. There wasn't another person in sight. The sky was large. The river lapped up against the floating dock. We stood in the silence and took it all in.
Then we went back to our room, watched an episode of Pysch on our iPad. We went to the hotel restaurant and had fabulous french fries that were obviously made from just cut potatoes. I took one bite and informed Lee that fries like these are why we do not own a deep-fryer. We went back to our room and went to bed ridiculously early. The next morning we woke up early and we were back in the car.
A stop for breakfast, a stop at Costco to buy as many things for my mother as she would tell us she needed (ie. not many) and then we were on the bridge. The bridge that is always so much longer than I remember. We sang along to the radio, pelting out Mary Jane's Last Dance, as we watched the Island grow nearer. Then we were here. The smell of salt was in the air and the dirt was red (the only correct colour for dirt -- all other dirt is wrong). We stopped at the farmers market for fresh vegetables and got lured in my locally made sausages. And mini-doughnuts. Mmm mini-doughnuts. A bit more driving and then finally, we were here.
Our home for the week. Our "cottage" with three bedrooms and two full bathrooms that feels ridiculously larger for two people. The only cottage we've come back to a second year. (There's another we would have repeated but you need to book a year out and we more book six months out people.)
We haven't planned out our entire week beyond knowing we want to go the beach as much as possible. There will be some running (for me). Maybe some golf (for him). We will eat too much. We will relax. We will look up at the sky at night and be astounded at how many more stars we can see here than at home. We'll look at red cliffs. We'll get sand in our toes and other, less comfortable, spots.