Last night, the GPS got confused and told me that I was on a logging road. Just as I was getting close to Thunder Bay. Not within mobile range, of course, since I would have been able to use the GPS on my telephone. But it got unconfused as I arrived at the hotel. Convenient, that.

I can assure you that life in northern Ontario is exactly what you would expect it to be. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d fall asleep.

But I have discovered an oasis. In a moment, though.

I got occasional mobile coverage between Thunder Bay and Sudbury. When I say occasional, I mean approximately 15 minutes total talk time between those two points. And I was able to find a bed and breakfast to console my boredom upon arrival. I was even able to bake potatoes to relieve my reliance on cold, dry foods, which are killing me from the inside.

Potatoes are my savior.

If you ever stay in Sudbury, don’t miss the opportunity to visit The Artisan Upstairs. Quite honestly, it’s the most lovely bed and breakfast that I have ever experienced. Five stars don’t do the place justice. Do not, however, trust your GPS. It will get you lost on the way. I got stuck in a train yard that it thought was a throughroad.

Time to revel in crisp sheets and soft pillows. Ta.

It’s amazing how flat this country is. Until it isn’t. Driving across the prairies, the only thing that comes to mind as a desire is something to look at, a bend in the road, perhaps even a new type of tumbleweed to replace the old. It doesn’t come.

And then you see a small sign in the distance that says “Welcome to Ontario”. Actually, it says, “W lcome to O  ario”. But that would be splitting hair. And that would require new shampoo.

And you think that life is about to improve.

But Ontario brings with it several things of note. One is that mobile reception is far too advanced for Upper Canada. It simply dies at the border until you arrive at Thunder Bay. So are roads with more than one lane each way. And, while we’re on the subject, bends make my ankles hurt. Cruise control doesn’t work well when you have some aging, mindless fop between you and motoring relaxation.

But I have arrived in the city of lightening bolts. And, again, as with most Canadian cities, I wouldn’t have even noticed it was here, if not for the airport and some proximate hotels.

How do these places survive?

That’s the longest day of the trip, I believe. And I have survived. Hot tub?