Special Ops Engineering: Bienvenue au Québec

Customs was painless this time. Friendly even. I got teased for knowing no more French than merci beaucoup, which Grandma Stone taught me, along with s'il vous plaît, so I can at least be politely ignorant.

Unlike Greece, stop signs are in the native language. It's hard adjusting to the autoroute signage and I admittedly don't know what towns are north/south or east/west of anything out here yet. It doesn't help that it was 1am, and I was driving with my directions held up to catch the illumination of the car behind me.

M and I make a much better driving-in-a-foreign-language team than I do solo, but I'm getting by. Tomorrow I drive from Montreal to Quebec City. Thursday I drive back, and fly home.

Bonus? I now know "Exit" in four languages: Exit. Ausgang. Sortie. έξοδος. (Maybe five, if it's Salida in Spanish.)