Through the Fall colors of Vermont and over the border into Canada - and suddenly from the lush Green mountains one is on expansive flatlands of ripe corn. From English, all is French. From myriad patriotic flags on house after house, suddenly there are none.
And then that French city - which has all that is good about France with much friendlier people all of whom are happy to speak English and not pressure one into struggling into a linguistic rustbucket. A very civilized and emancipated city. And the food was sublime. How have I gone all these years of travelling without happening upon this glorious place?