The long line to get on the Ferry
While living in Los Angeles, I rarely drive more than 10 miles a day. But visiting my parents in Northern California, my aunt in Seattle, and my Uncle on his garlic farm in Canada was too many flights (and dollars) to muster.
Driving 1600 miles in a week is not (nor should it be) normal. It’s hot outside, there are kamikaze-style bugs flying at the window, and cruise control only works if there are no drivers on the road.
If any of these “complaints” were actually worth NOT traveling, I obviously wouldn’t have hopped in my dodge Neon and filled up the tank so many times. I would have made a U-Turn a LONG time ago.
Instead, I’ve enjoyed my little journey up the West Coast of North America. You read correctly, this is, in fact, an international road trip. Venturing far and wide, I have added CANADA into the traveling mix.
My experience in Canada has been frustrating to say the least. Mind you, I’ve only been here two hours. Alas, getting across that border as a single, white, female with no agenda and no DUI record proved NOT to be advantageous in charming border patrol.
A view of the water and islands near Vancouver
My car was strip-searched before I even got to the gate.- by FOUR male border patrol guards. I figured it was attributed to my California license plates, so I just smiled and answered all of his questions. NO I don’t have any drugs. NO I don’t have any weapons. YES I have a specific destination. YES I’ll be returning the U.S.
I thanked them for the intimate exchange and drove forward towards the border gate. I switched on my video camera that was positioned on my passenger seat to secretly capture the moment. But apparently I didn’t get good reviews after the strip search. My one on one interview lasted 10 minutes instead of 2 minutes. She was very interested in whom my employer is (myself) and when I was expected back to work (this IS my work!). She repeated her question regarding whether I was carrying any weapons a number of times… maybe my cargo shorts through her off a bit?
When the interview seemingly wrapped up and she handed me back my passport, I prepared to take a sigh of relief. However, before I could exhale, Canada threw ANOTHER road block in the way. I wasn’t done proving I was welcome in Beautiful British Columbia. It was time for my PRIVATE search.
No, not those privates, the kind where I have to leave my car with them and wait inside in a holding room while they open all my bags and car contents while I am not present. It felt icky. My company in the holding room were your average non-English speaking visitors, a couple of guys on a harley with spikes on their leathers (do those count as weapons?), and then ME.
After finally getting my clearance, I called my mother to tell her the story. All you can do is laugh, really. I told her I felt like Claire Danes in BROKEDOWN PALACE, or like Ganga Queen, the Australian woman who was sentenced to 20 years in prison when she was carrying marijuana illegally into Bali. The problem is, I’ve been to Bali… and it was easier to get into than Canada. CANADA?!?!
One of the large ferries coming in to port near Vancouver
On top of that, after finally driving forward into this lovely free-health-care-giving, maple-tree and hockey loving country… I had to contend with ferries. Not tinkerbell… the big boats that McDreamy is obsessed with in Grey’s Anatomy. You see I’ve been to Vacouver before as an adolescent, so I too carried a romanticized affinity for the mini-cruise across open water. Apparently the feelings only lingered because I never had to actually drive onto one.
I had arrived at the wrong port. There was no way to get back to the correct port and get the Ferry that would have taken me directly to my destination. Really Canada? REALLY??
I finally exhaled that pseudo-sigh and decided it was time to change my attitude. Carpe Diem!
I channeled “Amazing Race;” It was now a competition to get to my destination. I had been steered off course by a devious contestant (in my case the GPS device Tom Tom), and had to cleverly find an alternate route to get to the magical envelope with my next challenge task waiting for me. The good news is: I found the alternate course. It’s going to take me longer to get there, but in the big Amazing Race, it’s just one destination of many.
I made it.
My good buddy Parry and I have oft-discussed trying out for that show. And though I would have expected to find my inspiration in the jungles of Borneo or even a country where they don’t speak English, Canada stepped up as my trainer. Good ole’ Canada.
You know what I say? BRING IT ON!
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Janelle K. Eagle is infamous for always having her hands tied up in multiple projects simultaneously. She's directed a lot of theater, worked on some films, and raised lots of money for non-profits. She travels all the time and loves to share her videos, photography and writing via this blog. 
I was about to cross you off my list of potential Amazing-race partners at your inability to get into CANADA of all places (because let's face it, if you cant find a proper ferry port then how can I rely on you to eat a cow testicle!?)..but you redeemed yourself in the end!
Just kidding
Please keep these entries coming, I love love love reading them.
–Parry