Driving in 1967.

It occurred to me, up here in Beevil on day, that I had been here before...
Ok, no deja blue thing, just reality intruding. In a very strange way.
In the summer of 1967, my friend Paul and I drove from home to Expo 67, the major international exhibition held in Montreal that year to celebrate the centennial of Canada.
And we drove in the moderately good condition 2CV, taking all the back roads (with a top speed of 42mph, a necessity) for three days. And it suddenly hit me yesterday - on the second day, probably mid-afternoon, we drove right by where I am now. Not fifty feet away. And my later-to-be-my-spouse was quite possibly home with her mother at the time. Waiting to meet me, in a different place and time. Ah the irony. The fan-shaped fate-ness of it. Had I only known.