After I almost Tonya Harding-ed a cyclist in Montreal, made a complete ass of myself in Quebec City, and gained AT LEAST 5lbs eating the poutine Dustin presented me with daily… I was ready to go a little more low key.
A couple of years ago I went to pick up a relatively new friend from the BC Ferry terminal in Tsawassen. I’m not super well versed in that area, so when she offered to pull up Google maps, I gratefully accepted.
There, I said it. And I mean it. This isn’t some ploy to capture readers attention or turn it around into some great tale about how lovely and wonderful Montreal is. I genuinely REALLY didn’t like Montreal.
When we were planning our trip, there were a lot of discussions around the province of Ontario. Well, it was basically just one big discussion: how do we get across it to see Toronto?
When we left off, I had professed my deep hatred for all things Ontario and whined about the cold a bit. Ok, FINE… a lot.
Vacationing is supposed to be fun, right?! Filled with long, lazy days spent basking in the sun and ending with life-altering sunsets, drink in hand…