We had a very convenient flight schedule on Saturday that allowed us to get up at a normal time, clean the house, and then roll our suitcases out of the building and to the train station. (Moving to a building right on the light rail is one of the best decisions we ever made). We rode to the airport, went through security – where there was a slight delay due to a tiny pocketknife I didn’t even remember having in my purse – and then went to go get some brunch at Surdyk’s Flights.

We boarded our plane and were off. I got a lot of knitting done, and we had a spectacular view of New York on the way to LaGuardia.

We’d hated LGA on our previous visit there, which was only about 8 months prior. However, something happened in the meantime – it became nice. Like really nice. We picked a pizza place with iPad ordering near our arrival gate. (Yes, I was Googling “your mom”.) Service was quick, and we were on our way again.

At our next gate, we went down a ramp out onto the tarmac, where we boarded buses to the plane. This was incredibly exciting to me, since I’ve only ever done that at much smaller airports. On the tarmac at LaGuardia! Awesome.

We boarded our much-smaller plane, and then sat there for an extra 20 minutes because the intercom in the back of the place was broken. The plane was small enough that the flight attendant could’ve just yelled up to the front and be heard easily, but apparently Delta is all about following rules. We weren’t really delayed much, though, so we couldn’t complain.

The flight to Burlington was about an hour, and it was apparent how pretty that part of Vermont was as we approached the airport. That’s Lake Champlain in the distance.

On the ground in Vermont, we waited for our bags and then called Thrifty for the rental shuttle. BTV is a gorgeous little airport, with northwoodsy decor, rocking chairs, and art everywhere. We liked it quite a bit.

The rental shuttle was sitting there waiting by the time we exited. We were the only ones using it. The driver took us a few blocks outside the airport property, and we hopped out and went to get the car. We ended up with a little Prius that was small enough that only one suitcase fit in the trunk and the other on the back seat, but I prefer driving that kind of car anyway. Plus we’d heard gas was expensive in Canada.

The most interesting car quirk was that the odometer was only in kilometers per hour. Matt’s second task, after looking up directions to the border, was to figure out what 60mph was in kph. The fact that it didn’t have cruise control made it a little challenging to drive, too.

We left Burlington around 8pm and figured we had about a 90-minute drive to Montreal. I didn’t love driving in the dark, but we didn’t have that far to go. When we got to the border crossing, we had to sit in a line of 3-4 cars for a bit. The border agent was a big burly man with a hilarious accent (sorry, Quebecois) and the usual border-guard sense of humor, i.e. none. He asked us a bunch of questions and then directed us over to a parking spot behind the building, where two other agents were waiting. We were nervous, but figured it was probably normal since we’d been through three cities and just picked up a rental car that evening.

The agents directed us to turn off the car, leave the keys, and go sit on a bench. Then they proceeded to search. We noticed that the very brightly lit area was absolutely swarming with mosquitoes, since it was probably the only bright light for miles, and the building was equipped with a couple of gigantic bug zappers that ran constantly.

It only took about five minutes, even though they searched our suitcases and everything. Another car full of Americans pulled up next to us and got started with the same thing, so we felt a little less weird about it. The agents thanked us politely, and we were on our way.

It’s not exactly a direct route to Montreal once you cross the border, which seemed a little strange. They were mostly sizable highways, at least. Once we got within 30 miles of Montreal we could see the skyline, which was pretty amazing. We found our way to our hotel, across the river from the city in Longueuil. It was a really large business-oriented hotel called the Sandman, and we were instantly happy with our decision. We had a big, modern room, a view of the St Lawrence and Olympic Park, there was a very friendly lady at the desk, and it was next to the Metro station.

It was after 10 by the time we got situated, but we didn’t want to go to bed without seeing some of Montreal. We walked over to Longueuil station (which seemed to contain not just the Metro but a ton of bus lines, even Greyhound-style ones), and figured out how to work the pass machine. A three-day unlimited ride pass is $18CA, which is a really excellent bargain. Then we went to wait for the train.

We were staying on the yellow line, which was incredibly easy to navigate. Longueuil was one end of the line, there was a stop in the middle on the island for Parc Jean-Drapeau, and the end of the line was the third stop, Berri-UQAM, where two other Metro lines crossed. The Metro runs very regularly, as often as every 4 minutes during rush hour, and at most every 15 minutes late at night. The last train is between 1am and 1:30, and if you miss that, they have night buses that run the same routes. So basically, you have zero excuse to drive in Montreal.

The trains are pretty dated and have hilariously large wheels. My favorite part was the “mouvement collectif” tagline on the side, a concept that would not sit well with many American rednecks. SOCIALISM!

I was glad that I’d made the effort to learn some French this time around. We’d been to Paris, Tunis, and Brussels with basically no knowledge of French, and it was a pain. Even the little we knew was definitely enough to help us with road signs and other navigation, and to be polite enough in shops and restaurants. It was already much easier than it had been in those places. (And while it’s true that the vast majority of people in the service industry in the touristed parts of Quebec are bilingual, the signs are definitely not. Learn yourself some French before you go!)

We rode the Metro to Station Mont-Royal, and walked over to Poutine La Banquise. Matt had chosen it because 1) it was open 24 hours and 2) it advertised vegetarian poutine. It seemed like the best possible introduction to Montreal. We were a little nervous because there was a line out the door (and we were starving), but it seemed to actually be moving pretty quickly. It helped that there was a carryout and eat-in line, too.

We waited in the eat-in line for probably 20 minutes at most, and then got a table. The place was absolutely packed, with tables crammed everywhere. And everywhere you looked there were people drinking beer and eating gigantic portions of poutine. It was everything I’d hoped Quebec would be.

And they had vegan poutine on the menu, called La Veganomane. I decided to go for that, fake cheese and all, and it was amazing. Matt had the Obelix, with smoked meat. We both got the small portions, since the large ones were unbelievable. We had a couple local beers as well, and then we paid our loonies (ok, it was more than a few loonies) and headed out again.

Speaking of loonies, the exchange rate was $1CA to .80US, so we were feeling like high rollers in Canada.

It was 12:30ish by then, so we walked back toward the Metro station. We looked around a bit for a shop that was open to buy some beer to bring back to the room, but everything seemed to be fermé. As the train arrived at Berri-UQAM, we realized we were approaching last-train time. It ended up being a good thing we didn’t find an open store, because we’d probably have missed the last Metro on our first night in Montreal.

Sadly, it was time to leave Quebec. We got up early on Jeudi, asked at the front desk for the car, and walked over to Starbucks for coffee and a scone for the road. The car was waiting when we got back.

We got on the highway out of QC and took a huge bridge over the St Lawrence. The speed limits were much slower than we would have liked. We passed through a long series of small Quebecois towns with moose crossing signs everywhere.

We reached the middle-of-nowhere border at CA173/US201 around 11:30. The only other person there was a lady on foot, which was incredibly perplexing since as far as we knew, there was nothing around for miles. The border agent looked in the car, but we didn’t have to pull over for the full inspection like we had entering Canada. USA!

We crossed into Maine and continued on through dense forest and hilly terrain. The first town was Jackman, so we stopped there to use the bathroom and get beverages. It looked like a northern-Wisconsin stop, all camo and gun supplies.

Eventually we met up with the Kennebec River, so at least we had something to look at.

FINALLY, we reached I-95. We stopped again right before getting on the freeway, and noticed some pretty sizeable storm clouds looming. Right around Augusta it started raining, then pouring, then something beyond pouring I haven’t really seen before. Visibility dropped to nothing on the interstate, and everyone pulled over to sit on the side of the road. I was worried it would hail and our tiny car would be pummeled to bits.

We sat there for about ten minutes, and then it let up. Everyone got back on the road again, and by the time we reached our exit at Freeport, it was sunny again (though the clouds were still hanging out behind us, waiting.)

Our first order of business in Maine was getting Matt a lobster roll. I’d spent some of the drive Googling to find out who had the best lobster roll in Freeport, and consensus was Harraseeket Lunch and Lobster, on the marina in South Freeport.

The place was exactly what we wanted out of the Maine coast. I was thrilled they actually had some vegetarian options, too. A veggie burger isn’t exciting, but it’s something.

Matt ordered a lobster roll, and we shared a massive order of onion rings. The view was pretty good, too:

(This ended up being only the second-best lobster roll he had in Maine.)

By the time we finished eating, it was clear that the storm was coming our way. We decided to take shelter at Maine Beer Company.

They had a nice little taproom (which was quite new), and I was impressed with their commitment to being totally green. There were solar panels all over outside. The beers were awesome, too.

It started pouring, so we waited out the storm there. A guy came in with a guitar and started playing Bob Marley songs, so we considered living there. But we had farther to go, so we took a couple bottles to go, and got back on the road to Portland. It was rush hour time, so we ended up sitting in traffic on one of the many bridges in town. But since it’s a small town it wasn’t too bad, and we reached our hotel near the airport around 6pm. (It would have been easier to stay in downtown, but I wanted to be able to get back on the road early the next morning.)

After checking in, we got back in the car and headed downtown. We parked in a very expensive ramp, since street parking was nuts, and walked over to the Hunt & Alpine Club to have a pre-dinner cocktail. It was one of those stereotypical uber-hipster bars, but their drinks were really good, the staff was friendly, and they service Scandinavian food so we felt right at home.

Then it was time for the dinner reservation we’d made weeks in advance for Grace. It’s a restaurant in an old church in Portland.

We had a table on the rail overlooking the central bar and kitchen, and there was a huge church window behind us (and another bar). The host stand was a lector, and there were pews along the outside walls. The kitchen was up where the pulpit used to be. It was spectacular.

As was the food – we had mushroom and chevre ravioli as an appetizer, and my entree was marinated tempeh. Matt had pan-seared wahoo, farotto, and charred spring onions.

After dinner, we walked down to the port. It took us a while to get there even though it was a few blocks, because the lights NEVER changed for pedestrians to cross the large road along the port. It was really weird. We finally jaywalked and went into Liquid Riot, which was a combination brewery/distillery (called Infiniti). The crowd was very bro-ey.

One of their specialties was beer schnapps, so we sampled that and their white whiskey. We decided on beer rather than cocktails. They had a really excellent sour that I liked a lot.

Then it was time to go, so we paid our $21 parking fee (what the hell, Portland?) and went back to the hotel.

We got up early, had a quick breakfast at the hotel, and got back on the interstate heading south. We exited at York, a town I’d visited before and really wanted Matt to see. It screams “Maine”.

Our first stop was the Nubble Light at Cape Neddick (above). We sat around looking at the coast for a while, and the really entertaining seagulls.

Most of the houses there are rentals. I would not be sad to have that experience.

From there we drove over to see the beach.

When in Maine, it’s important to drink like the locals do.

The water was cold, but the day was warm. There were a decent number of people out on the beach on a Friday morning.

I could look at this view forever. In fact, I intend to someday – just in a more Caribbean locale.

Back in York, we stopped at Stonewall Kitchen for some shopping and lunch on their patio. This was Matt’s second lobster roll, and by far his favorite.

Bally made a friend there.

After lunch, we took highway 1 across the bridge from Kittery into New Hampshire, because I knew Matt would love Portsmouth, too. It’s such an adorable little town. Since we were on a whirlwind driving tour, we didn’t really get much in the way of photos.

From there we got back on the interstate and headed toward Vermont. There were a few tolls along the way, but it was worth it to be able to drive 120kph (70mph) for once.

You’d think it would be a pretty quick trip through NH to VT, but it’s not. At least it’s scenic. The whole drive looks basically like this (there was also a ton of stuff we’d have loved to stop and see along the way, but unfortunately time is always the enemy):

We drove straight across New Hampshire and stopped right at the border at the exit for Dartsmouth to pick up snacks and drinks. I was sleepy, so I was glad Matt was taking over driving. The people at the store were all so talkative and gregarious, it made us nervous.

Burlington wasn’t much farther, which made us happy. We got off and drove into South Burlington, encountering the really crappy traffic Google had warned us about. We drove a few blocks north before going to the hotel, because we had to find this: it’s the world’s tallest filing cabinet.

(Since it’s Burlington, we passed at least three breweries on the way there.)

Our hotel was conveniently only a half-mile away, and the front desk lady was great. Even more conveniently, Magic Hat‘s brewery was across the street. We stopped in for some samples and the DIY tour, where Bally ran the video controls.

Then we drove into town and headed down to the port. It was hopping down there, with a few lakeside restaurants and the ferry terminal. We found the statue of Champ, the Lake Champlain monster, sitting there in the shipyard.

He also has a memorial closer to the waterfront:

Burlington’s harbor is really nice, and there were people with kayaks and paddleboards in the lake. It’s definitely our kind of town.

You can see New York from there!

The sunset wasn’t bad, either:

From there we drove into downtown and parked at the municipal ramp. There was an awesome little pedestrian area in the middle of town that reminded us of Santa Monica, and of course Ben & Jerry’s was right there. We’d picked out Farmhouse for dinner a while back, and weren’t too bothered by the half-hour wait, because they had a really nice beer garden out back. The place was super-crowded, which is always a good sign.

Once we were seated, we ordered the cheese board, which came with really excellent local cheeses and apple butter. Matt ordered a Heady Topper, one of the most raved-about beer nerd beers. It’s only available in very limited local release, so people go far out of their way for it.

(Matt told me later that the guy eating dinner by himself at the next table ordered two Heady Toppers, and stuffed one of the empty cans into his jeans pocket when he was done. Good souvenir.)

I had the restaurant’s famous corn cakes with mushrooms and kale. Matt had bourbon-braised chicken with barley. Everything was excellent, and their beer and cocktail list was the kind of thing that could lead to a lost evening. We restrained ourselves, though, since we had an early flight the next morning.

We did decide to stop into Captain Tom’s Tiki Bar for a nightcap, though, because it was a hilariously tacky bar in the alley behind Ken’s Pizza, and it was really nice outside. We had a drink there, and then it was time to head to bed, thankful that we’d already packed our bags earlier in the day. We agreed that we both really liked Burlington, and would love to see more of the area.