Hostage in Canada

We spent the night in a Bari motel then headed to the airport.

It was funny I had been excited about possibly renting an Italian model but I ended up with a Ford. It got the job done so I can't complain. There were always long lines at the gas stations on the side of the highway so... I often went where there was not a line: the full service pumps. I don't recall it costing that much more. This rental drop off seemed pretty chill, which was good because there was a scrape or two on this baby that may or may not have been there when I drove it off the lot.

The tax refund paperwork was only slightly annoying.

Going from eating pasta in Bologna to this sad little Bolognaise was a real insult to injury. The magic was officially over.

We had a connecting flight in Vancouver and those dumb Canucks made us go through customs and immigration. We were waiting in this horrid long line and some official asked me what I was bringing into Canada, and my reply was something surly after such a long flight. "I don't even want to be in Canada". The immigration lines caused us to miss our flight, and we had an unfortunate time getting on a flight to escape.