[15: "The Roadside Motel" (magazine clipping)]

The roadside motel sat just down the motorway from the rather modest border
station. Janet found herself surprised how easy the border crossing was --
they didn't have to leave the car, just show their passports with the regal
looking official stamp with the time and date of their entrance at the
airport. It was a bit of a relief. She'd been in and out of Canada at a
dozen different stations, and it was always worrying that they'd decide that
today was the day to inspect the car down to the inch. There wasn't even any
place to pull off here to be searched. Just booths with guards struggling to
look alert and official while they checked documents. The guards spoke
enough English, too, to put her at ease. 

Maura had joked out the passenger window "How many languages do you know,
anyway?" to the man eyeing the picture of her in her passport. "Twelve." he
said without even looking up. Janet had blinked and turned to look out the
passenger window.

"Twelve?!" The incredulity in her voice was beyond obvious.

"Yes. Michał there speaks seventeen. Only you from the United States can
manage with just one."

Janet shook her head, as the guard, Michał handed her passport back to her.

"Have a good day. Guten tag. Welcome to Poland."

The motel was the next exit, and Janet found herself amused by their
pretense at trying to be American-style and mangling it more than a bit. The sign
was wood, with a shingled cover, but underneath was a neon sign that blinked
on and off reading "Motel Americanische", and then in cheery hand-carved
wooden letters, "Full Breakfast", and a vinyl banner on the building at the
corner of the parking lot, reading "American Breakfast, 350zl! Sausages and
potato pancakes!", the words glaringly blazoned in red on yellow. "Dine in
car!" on another banner. Every stereotype of American travelers was apparent
in the signs.

Janet parked in front of the office to the motel, and a man in a red bellhop
uniform appeared "Let me help you with bags", he intoned with a slavic
accent muted by an attempt at a drawl.

"I'm fine, thanks."

The office was lined with posters from westerns, half in Italian or Polish,
and half American classics, mostly starring John Wayne.