My mother had time to make crêpes this morning, which felt like a proper send off and left me optimistic that I would get to Saratoga Springs tonight. I pulled out at about 9:00 and was waiting in line at customs by 9:55. It took about 10 minutes to get to the booth.

I got the same kind of customs agent as I did in 2011, one for whom even the most straightforward story would not make sense. “It doesn’t sound like you work.” “Driving through the US to get home makes no sense.” “Spending time with a friend over the holidays makes no sense.” “You see that green arrow that says secondary inspection? Go there, park, and go inside. Your documents will be waiting.”

My initial reaction was disbelief that I would have to go through what I went through in 2011 once again.

Then I realised that they had pulled over all the RVs and that the folks ahead of me had five yippy dogs. This meant customs wouldn’t go into their rig and they would get an extra grilling. If I stayed the course, kept my story as simple as possible, and emphasized that I had plenty of money of money for a few months in the US and that I was heading home, I suspected that I would get through in record time.

I was right. I had to expand on my story a couple of times, adding more details, until the agent literally threw up her hands, sighed, and said, “You’ve been asked these questions before; right?” Mm-hmm. “Never been denied entry?” Nope. She shook her head, handed me a slip of paper marked ‘cleared’ and said, “Just go.” I was out in less than five minutes.

I was getting back into the RV when another agent came up to me and asked me where I was going. I said I’d been cleared and he replied, “Not by me.” I wish text could convey tone because this guy was in a great mood and just going through the motions. I felt so comfortable that I actually replied, “Oh, you must be the fruit guy!” instead of, “Oh, you must mean the agricultural inspection!” He burst out laughing.

He asked if I had pets and I replied my cats. He then asked me to come inside with him to watch out for them. Every other inspection, I’ve had to wait well away from the rig.

Bitha and Nee’s papers are not up to date. Because of their age, vaccines are not recommended. I’ve never been asked for their paperwork and decided to take a chance. Well, the subject came up for the first time. He said, as he poked around the kitchen, “I’ve never heard of anyone being asked for papers for their cats. Are yours pretty old?” I replied that they were and he said the same thing the vet told me, that vaccinating older cats is bad for them! Then he said that anyone who would expect me to have them vaccinated to get across the border would be a ‘jerk.’

He finally opened my fridge and gasped. “Your relish jar exploded,” he informed me sadly. What is it with me and condiments?!

He cleared me for agriculture and then that’s when everything went to hell in the proverbial handbasket. You were expecting the other shoe to drop, weren’t you?

I’d had to unhook to park because there was so little room to park everyone. I was given the option not to, but I wanted to be as cooperative as possible. I don’t know if I was flustered and missed a step or what, but I could not get the e-brake back off the truck to move it into position to tow. It was cold and the agriculture agent guessed that it had seized up because of the weather. He got in and did something and got the e-brake working smoothly again. Then, he and another agent asked me to get my tow setup manual and helped me hook back up properly. I’m telling you, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried to hook up your tow bar for the first time while being assisted by US Customs Agents!

More later. I can’t get online with my cell phone without access to wifi first, so I’m at the McDonald’s doing that. I’ll write about my trip to Saratoga later.