Something Fishy: Part 2

Back in Canada.

After transiting the US easily through Maine, there's always a sense of relief when crossing back into Canada. This time, however, things are a little different, as for the first time ever, we are stopped and asked to pull over for a search. Two (very polite) Canadian Border Security staff proceed to take the keys to the 718 (!!!!) and give it a good going over. As we watch, we wonder at first if they know about the frunk, but sure enough, they find it after some fiddling with the remote.

15 minutes later they return the keys with a smile, I check for smudges (none!) and we are back on our way.

In short order we are crossing the harbour bridge and making our way along the nice back road to my folks (after stopping to let my relatives check in at their hotel). The Boxster revels once again in the small stretch of nicely-paved back road before having to slow and carefully navigate the erratically-placed HUGE potholes along NB Route 860 where my parents live. It really is atrocious how the department of highways lets this road get really bad before they do anything about it - and then all they do is send a pothole crew to patch things up will-nilly. In 40+ years that road has NEVER been re-paved, or even re-chip sealed. Really.

Needless to say, we take our time.

From there, it is all about settling in for a lovely eight days of relaxing in paradise. To make things special for the visitors, we reprise a meal of fresh seafood for them - the last time they had visited some 40ish years ago we had feasted on the same and they still remember (and request) another round.

My uncle wants a ride in the car, so off we head to fetch the fresh catch, with a cooler nestled securely in the frunk. Not knowing just how comfortable he is with 'twisties', I take it slow until he presses me to 'crack on a bit'. Joy. I oblige, and the big motor comes on song as I let it breathe a little along the route to the fish shop. Lobster and scallops are loaded into the car, and we retrace the route with a touch more aplomb, making sure we get home before things thaw out. At least that will be my excuse to the officer should we fall afoul of Johnny Law.

With the 718 cooling noisily under the carport (lots of pinging and whirring these mid-engined marvels produce after a spirited drive), a memorable meal ensues, with much hilarity, as we poke, prod, crack and munch on fresh seafood again. What a treat it is to be able to see my parents reconnecting with my aunt and uncle after them having known each other so long ago. My mum and aunt went to high school together! I get to hear a good number of old stories from their days of yore, and I can tell they are thoroughly enjoying the easy company. Amazing how old friendships like that just flow so effortlessly, especially with a little gin and tonic to lubricate things all around.

Of course a trip home wouldn't be complete without a little exploration of roads around the area, and I manage to traverse a stretch that I had (somehow) never been along before when picking my sister up from the airport. She requested a ride too, with which I'm happy to oblige, and the two of us fly along a couple of decent back roads close to home. Her grin is decent, while mine is broad as I run the revs up and give her a small taste of what this car can do.

The days fly by with laughs and conversations, walks with mum and Molly (their golden retriever) and fabulous meals my mum has thought out carefully to provide. 

There's mowing to do, and trees to chop down, and of course car washing to be done as well. I meet up with my old school pal and we have breakfast with our two roadsters in view. He bought an S2000 sigh unseen on my recommendation and hasn't regretted it for a second (and why would he???). It's Silverstone Metallic and still looks amazing - although it could use a little wash and brush up!

We all thoroughly enjoy this proper vacation and it's a sad day when the little party breaks up and we all head off back to our respective spaces - my sister winging back to Toronto, our relatives back to the UK, and us back to Ottawa.

We all leave though knowing we've just had a special time, in a special place, with most special people, and we are all looking forward to the next gathering, whenever that may be.

Jumping back into the Boxster, fuelled and provisioned for the return journey, sad goodbyes said and hugs given, we take a similar route back through Maine and Quebec to Ottawa, this time under cooler conditions, with patchy overcast skies. 

Means, of course, that the top is down most of the way and we get a chance to feel just how good at open-topped driving this car is. Very little turbulence, great airflow / heat management, and not at all noisy. I venture to say it's actually quieter with the top down as the engine sound has somewhere to go. Through the windy bits in Maine the engine and exhaust song come alive again and I recall the early kilometres in Europe with a grin.

Fresh air motoring: 'made for it', I think, meaning the car, and...perhaps...even me...?

~ Luke