It was a nice ride in the immaculately clean, new bus to Bellingham and then the four of us going to Blaine transferred to a small bus for the border town. Under normal non-COVID circumstances, we could have gone right on to destinations in Canada but today the closest we could get was to a Blaine truck stop on the Pacfic Highway Truck Crossing.
The actual Canadian border was about 1.5 kilometers and beyond sight. One young woman, an Alaskan medical worker, was returning to Victoria Island. Another older lady with a thick ambiguously Mexican accent was with us. The stop is kind of in the middle of nowhere. The young woman tried to get an Uber while I checked to local businesses to see if they could call a taxi for us. I couldn't use my phone as it contains my Mexican SIM only. I do not have data or the ability to call anyone.
This was my Facebook comment for today:
"We're not in Canada. Our PCR test wasn't considered valid because it wasn't taken in the US. We're in a Blaine hotel for the night considering our next moves."What that fails to explain is how we had to roll our luggage away from the Pacific Truck Crossing up and down hills into the town of Blaine in search of a hotel. We put on at least five kilometers pushing, pulling, and cajoling two suitcases and two backpacks. We eventually found the Motel International, a somewhat seedy place that is in Blaine's central business district and not far from the Peach Arch border crossing. This might be our home for a few days, we are not sure.
