Author's note: In August 1988 I attended a conference in Montreal, but took the opportunity to drive through the US and Canadian mid-west as well as tour a bit of northern Quebec. Unfortunately the very few slides I took have not survived the ravages of time well. Also the landscape was not as picturesque as the eastern seaboard of Canada which I had visited in 1986. So this blog will have far fewer pictures than others. However my impressions of the trip may be interesting. I have edited out, I hope, the purple prose and boring parts.
I had a long drive ahead of me. I had to be in Grand Rapids, Michigan by nightfall, for reasons that will become clear. The weather was ideal for travelling. It had been warm previous days but a cooling trend had set in. Buffalo and Erie went past quickly, as I made no stop for lunch. I cursed the poor Ohio roads as I drove past Cleveland. Cleveland was called a dump of a city and I saw why. The landscape revealed abandoned industrial buildings and depressed neighbourhoods. I noticed the absence of billboards for fast food places. It must be a poor American city whose citizens cannot afford fast food. Toledo, in contrast, looked prosperous with shopping malls, new housing developments and yuppie trappings.
When I entered the Ohio turnpike, the toll slip I was given said that using exits 8 through 17 was illegal. I puzzled over this. What sort of turnpike was this? Eventually I realized that I had entered via a westbound only toll gate and eastbound traffic had their own toll gates. Hence if you used exits 8 through 17 you had made an illegal U-turn, reversing your direction of travel. In Ohio and even more so in the flat plains obtaining land fill for making flyover ramps is a problem. A friend once had told me to look for artificial ponds nearby. The highway department usually strikes a deal with a farmer. We'll pay for your fill and make a pond for you.
I crossed into Michigan as dusk fell. Michigan is a corruption of the old Indian name Mishigamaa. Petrol prices were slightly higher than NY or OH but not excessive. In Michigan road construction signs were often accompanied by a frownie. Dinner was at Elias Big Boy, a chain restaurant whose signs I saw all over Michigan. The all-you-can-eat chicken buffet for $6.95 was a good deal. The lettuce tasted like cellulose, which was impressive for American vegetables, but the boiled potatoes and corn were quite good, as was the fried chicken. American cooking can be tasty when it sticks to simple, fresh food.
It had been a long drive and I stopped at a rest area for a short snooze when the drowsiness became overpowering. Better to lose some time than not arrive. At Grand Rapids, as I sat in my car outside the Red Roof Inn reading the maps, a woman dashed into the office. I found out later she had got the last single room so I had to pay a couple of dollars more for an extra bed I didn't need.
I had a long drive ahead of me. I had to be in Grand Rapids, Michigan by nightfall, for reasons that will become clear. The weather was ideal for travelling. It had been warm previous days but a cooling trend had set in. Buffalo and Erie went past quickly, as I made no stop for lunch. I cursed the poor Ohio roads as I drove past Cleveland. Cleveland was called a dump of a city and I saw why. The landscape revealed abandoned industrial buildings and depressed neighbourhoods. I noticed the absence of billboards for fast food places. It must be a poor American city whose citizens cannot afford fast food. Toledo, in contrast, looked prosperous with shopping malls, new housing developments and yuppie trappings.
When I entered the Ohio turnpike, the toll slip I was given said that using exits 8 through 17 was illegal. I puzzled over this. What sort of turnpike was this? Eventually I realized that I had entered via a westbound only toll gate and eastbound traffic had their own toll gates. Hence if you used exits 8 through 17 you had made an illegal U-turn, reversing your direction of travel. In Ohio and even more so in the flat plains obtaining land fill for making flyover ramps is a problem. A friend once had told me to look for artificial ponds nearby. The highway department usually strikes a deal with a farmer. We'll pay for your fill and make a pond for you.
I crossed into Michigan as dusk fell. Michigan is a corruption of the old Indian name Mishigamaa. Petrol prices were slightly higher than NY or OH but not excessive. In Michigan road construction signs were often accompanied by a frownie. Dinner was at Elias Big Boy, a chain restaurant whose signs I saw all over Michigan. The all-you-can-eat chicken buffet for $6.95 was a good deal. The lettuce tasted like cellulose, which was impressive for American vegetables, but the boiled potatoes and corn were quite good, as was the fried chicken. American cooking can be tasty when it sticks to simple, fresh food.
It had been a long drive and I stopped at a rest area for a short snooze when the drowsiness became overpowering. Better to lose some time than not arrive. At Grand Rapids, as I sat in my car outside the Red Roof Inn reading the maps, a woman dashed into the office. I found out later she had got the last single room so I had to pay a couple of dollars more for an extra bed I didn't need.
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