After being denied the possibility of entering into Canada in 2020 and 2021, and at the culmination of several months of fretting over the logistics involved in making our journey in 2022, the crossing itself was anticlimactic, taking perhaps all of 2 minutes. Our Border Guard—well-mannered, quietly jovial, and archetypically Canadian—seemed all alone in the giant plaza at the 3rd Bridge crossing from Calais, Maine, into Saint Stephen, New Brunswick. In fact, we saw no evidence of any other travelers or border agents at all on either side as we approached the gates well after midnight. We didn’t even need to show our vaccination certifications or our hard-earned ArriveCAN receipts and QR codes: We simply flashed our passports, and the COVID info evidently was tied to them. We then relayed our license plate number, told the heroic nature of our adventurous expedition (which earned a placid, barely perceptible nod from our Border Guard, who has undoubtedly heard it all) disclosed the handful of Viking beverages we were importing into Canada, and acknowledged our possession of the Odinic anti-berserkir potion known as “bear spray.” We then drove on across the border unhindered any further, racing across a darkened landscape to Saint John, where (drawn to the lights of our hotel like einherjar are drawn to Valhalla) we pulled in wharf-side (literally and figuratively!) for a short and fitful—but well-earned and exultant!—night’s sleep.
Follow our journey in ten-minute intervals via this link:
In the Wake of the Vikings 