All right, so I know I’ve been bad, very bad. It has been over a week since I last wrote but I will blame that on the fact that I have had little to o access to the comforts of modern living, you know, running water, electricity, internet – the basics. This trip, although a huge privilege, is quite hard work. I’m serious.
Anyway, we are now back in Quebec this time not just flying through but actually taking our time to see things. Quebec is beautiful – much more so than I ever thought. Presently we are in Northern Quebec along the river Madeleine; tonight we sleep in a roadside rest stop, one of many dotted along the coastline here. We are here because we splurged on a beautiful National park campsite last night and more to the point, Bertha (our motor home) is really struggling getting up these massive hills! Poor old girl.
We spent the afternoon fishing at a splendidly beautiful river that we saw driving along route 135. We also blew up Amy’s dingy but soon discovered that it had a leak, when by the look of Amy’s pants and face, we were taking on water - so we fished from shore but had a really great time catching absolutely nothing.
The last time I left off we were in Newfoundland. I will say to anyone that asks: that Newfoundland is definitely a place worth seeing – possibly not in the winter months, but summer for sure! After driving from west coast to east coast, we hit spot after spot of the most breath taking landscape: towering cliffs over-looking the ice cold Atlantic, lush forests with a moose or three every km2 , bustling little fishing villages and not to leave out its inhabitant who are gracious and friendly hosts.
Another highlight of Newfoundland was its capital city St John. Its funky, quaint beautiful and has such a great vibe; from George street which Amy and I heard has over 200 bars – some dating back to the 1700’s – to Water Street with its unique boutiques and funky coffee shops (it was a little bit f bohemia on the Eastcoast), all meeting at the foot of Signal Hill which rolls up high above the city, meeting cliffs that tower above the Atlantic and out into ocean that stretches for eons. I only wish we could have spent more time in St. John before having to catch our ferry back to the mainland.
Yes our 16-hour ferry that made me start to feel a tad homicidal. I will leave it at that.
After arriving back to Sydney, NS – with bags the size of the Ottoman Empire under my eyes – we hit the Trans Canada again. We ended up at a nightmarish family RV Park which made me question a great deal of things in my life, not the least of which is the absolute necessity of spawning – perhaps I could wait another 50 years or so before considering it more closely.
The following night we made it to New Brunswick where we spent a good few nights camping at some wonderful parks along the way; one in particular where we had our first black bear encounter – thankfully Bertha was in between us and the bear so we felt pretty brave.
The last three nights we have spent in Quebec as mentioned at the top. The plan is to head to Old Quebec, Montreal and then drive through until we hit the west coast. Wish us luck though; we still have a few mountains to climb before we hit the prairies – literally.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Newfoundland
I write today, on day three of our Newfoundland adventure. We find ourselves at Gros Morne National Park on the west coast of Nfld. We are camping at a sight called Green Point which is one of many campsites along the 300km or so of national park land. The site itself lies between a rocky beach and a boreal forest. I am writing from inside the camper as we were scared poopless by a very handsome but overly-confident and curious black fox: we heard noises in the brush so I grabbed the torch and scanned till I saw these red, gleaming eyes staring back at me at then disappear and the bugger ran right into our campsite stopped only by the light of the torch which luckily found him again. He stopped, stared us down and then slunk off into the darkness. So we got the eff out of dodge and ran into our DOE otherwise known as Bertha, however the d and g have fallen off the front of the hood. It was a pity though cos the fire was a’ rager!
That was pretty long-winded, but the point is: what the crap am I gonna do when it’s like a grizzly bear or something staring us down next time? I’ll be pretty goddam useless, that’s for sure. I think my best bet would be to throw Amy into its path and run. I can only hope I have the presence of mind to do so when the time comes.
All right, so today was a driving day – about 6 hours or so –we drove from the very top of the northern peninsula from a place called At Anthony where you can allegedly “see icebergs float by on the wake of a humpback whale whilst puffins fly by as seals jump through flaming hoops” which, may all be true, if you are lucky enough to find yourself there on a day when the fog isn’t as thick as pea soup. Needless to say, we saw none of the above.
We did, however get to see the 1000-year-old ruins of what was the first European contact with North America ever. That is, the World heritage excavation sight of the Viking landings from around 1000 AD. Leif Erickson and his Viking pals landed her from Iceland to see what they could find in the way of raw materials. The sight is made up of visibly raised grassy mounds that frame what once was a small Viking village. Dwellings, smelting huts for ironwork, sewing huts etc. it totally blew my mind that I was standing where they once were 1000 years ago. What so impressed me was how advanced and industrious these people were even back then.
Before driving to Green point, we stopped in at a place called Cow Head – the name for which, I must say, I do not care for – we had heard that the village was having lobster fest and when we arrived, we found all of the sweetest white-haired little old church ladies cooking up tens of lobsters for both hungry tourists and locals alike. It was amazing; they made a mean lobster and garlic butter as well as an array of salads and a spread of scones and jams for dessert. It was a magnificent feast, and watching all of these adorable, little church ladies running around, made my heart explode!
That was pretty long-winded, but the point is: what the crap am I gonna do when it’s like a grizzly bear or something staring us down next time? I’ll be pretty goddam useless, that’s for sure. I think my best bet would be to throw Amy into its path and run. I can only hope I have the presence of mind to do so when the time comes.
All right, so today was a driving day – about 6 hours or so –we drove from the very top of the northern peninsula from a place called At Anthony where you can allegedly “see icebergs float by on the wake of a humpback whale whilst puffins fly by as seals jump through flaming hoops” which, may all be true, if you are lucky enough to find yourself there on a day when the fog isn’t as thick as pea soup. Needless to say, we saw none of the above.
We did, however get to see the 1000-year-old ruins of what was the first European contact with North America ever. That is, the World heritage excavation sight of the Viking landings from around 1000 AD. Leif Erickson and his Viking pals landed her from Iceland to see what they could find in the way of raw materials. The sight is made up of visibly raised grassy mounds that frame what once was a small Viking village. Dwellings, smelting huts for ironwork, sewing huts etc. it totally blew my mind that I was standing where they once were 1000 years ago. What so impressed me was how advanced and industrious these people were even back then.
Before driving to Green point, we stopped in at a place called Cow Head – the name for which, I must say, I do not care for – we had heard that the village was having lobster fest and when we arrived, we found all of the sweetest white-haired little old church ladies cooking up tens of lobsters for both hungry tourists and locals alike. It was amazing; they made a mean lobster and garlic butter as well as an array of salads and a spread of scones and jams for dessert. It was a magnificent feast, and watching all of these adorable, little church ladies running around, made my heart explode!
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Day Something
Okay well its gotten to the point now of me not being able to remember what day it actually is, meaning I know it’s the 22nd of June, but have not the time nor the inclination to mathematically calculate what day of the trip we are on. Suffice it to say, I have not written anything down in quite a while .My promise at the end of the last blog was an empty one.
We find ourselves now in a town called Glen Margaret; a stones throw from Peggy’s Cove in Nova Scotia. I’m not sure if anyone remembers the tragic Swiss Air crash of 1998, but it happened just off the coast of where we are staying (wiki!). Wayside RV Park, you can call me Jim Bob and Amy Loretta for the next little while.
We have been staying here for the past three nights, two nights longer than we intended. We had planned to be in Halifax by now – which is like 30 minutes away – but got a bit comfortable here.
We have met the nicest couple; they are our neighbors Mary and Len. They have traveled the entire continent of North America between them, in fact this is what they do currently: travel. I hope I get to do that myself one day, though that is most likely a pipe dream at the moment because Bertha is literally burning a hole in my pocket as I write.
Anyway, we have spent a good deal of time with them, Mary in particular, and it’s been fantastic, they are both so interesting and have so many stories to tell and are such generous people too. Also, I think Falcor has a crush on Mary.
So today we spent the day resealing our stupid effing roof. It wasn’t too bad actually, I felt quite handy and useful and I think Amy did too. Once in the groove it actually became quite a bit of fun – until my OCD struck and I went a bit crazy with the silicone.
Waiting for it to dry, before applying another RV sealant for extra leakage protection, we took a trip to grab some lubrication for ourselves in the form of beer, and lubrication for our hungry Cobra so that she could keep wiping her bloodthirsty gas-guzzling smile with our greenbacks. It turned out to be that both necessities were on the other side of town close to downtown Halifax, so after a quick fill up that couldn’t have come soon enough, we decided to go and check out the city. Luckily for me Amy was driving because trying to navigate your way through a downtown city-centre in this beast is like putting a monkey at the wheel of a hummer in a parking lot. I don’t know what that actually means, I just made it up – point is, its scary and dangerous and hard.
After a few close run ins on the road, we decided to retreat with white knuckles and our tails between our legs and try again with a bit of fore planning tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Right so what I really want to catch you up on was our jaunt along the Cabot trail which is where we were before this and also where I took my vacation from recording the days events. It has been my very favourite part of the trip so far. Its funny because sometimes you hear about places that have so much hype that you expect to be under whelmed when you get there and I suppose quite often are, and then there places you think are overrated that completely blow you away and for me the Cabot Trail is the latter. Another place I experienced this was when I went to Paris, France. I had heard so much about it all my life and had seen so many pictures that I never imagined that it would ever meet my expectations, but it blew them away and I would go back there in a heartbeat.
So go to the Cabot Trail because the stories and picture I have for you will never do it justice.
So after leaving Ben Eoin we spent a night at the base of the Cabot Trail camping along some side street in the middle of nowhere on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic. It was as amazing as it sounds.
The next morning we started up the Trail which is basically a road (not a very good one) that winds through mountains along the Atlantic. Now I will say that if I had it to do over again, I would have chosen a much smaller ride cos there were times where we thought Old Bertha wouldn’t make it up and over the other side, like flooring it up and literally teetering over the other side – one bat of the eyelash would have made the difference. But the ol’ girl worked hard and got us round – even did a bit of off roading which I am now 100% certain she was not built for.
The Cabot Trail was so beautiful, a fantasy place like where those fairy guys lived in Lord of the Rings… or like in Avatar, with the shiny little bugs flying all around you, except we weren’t blue and we didn’t have to sleep in a crazy little machine to get us there… the Cobra took care of that.
So all in all we were there for 3 amazing days and nights; lots of hiking and swimming and driving round cliffs. I suppose apart from the scenery and wonderful people we met along the way, going whale watching was a highlight. We went out on a beautiful sunny day on a Zodiac motor boat, so we were very close to the water and there only 9 of us aboard including the Captain, so it was very intimate. The first whale we spotted was called a Minke. It was an amazing site to see it coming up out of the water to get air and diving back down and disappearing altogether. Apparently, these are not the most sociable of whales and are solitary as opposed to belonging to a pod so they kept screeching off every time we came near. Next we came across an entire pod of about 20 whales all coming up simultaneously to breath. These were called Pilot Whales and in the pod there were two amazingly adorable calves bobbing up and down with far more enthusiasm than the rest. It was a truly breathtaking experience and would recommend it to anyone. The last thing we saw was a curious 750-pound seal. She kept popping her head out of the water to check us out probably trying to figure out what the hell that odd looking creature was. We were out there for a total of two hours but it felt more like 5 minutes in the company of these beautiful creatures in such an intimate setting.
So we will be heading on to Halifax tomorrow to check out the city and sample the nightlife. I look forward to filling you in about our experiences there shortly.
We find ourselves now in a town called Glen Margaret; a stones throw from Peggy’s Cove in Nova Scotia. I’m not sure if anyone remembers the tragic Swiss Air crash of 1998, but it happened just off the coast of where we are staying (wiki!). Wayside RV Park, you can call me Jim Bob and Amy Loretta for the next little while.
We have been staying here for the past three nights, two nights longer than we intended. We had planned to be in Halifax by now – which is like 30 minutes away – but got a bit comfortable here.
We have met the nicest couple; they are our neighbors Mary and Len. They have traveled the entire continent of North America between them, in fact this is what they do currently: travel. I hope I get to do that myself one day, though that is most likely a pipe dream at the moment because Bertha is literally burning a hole in my pocket as I write.
Anyway, we have spent a good deal of time with them, Mary in particular, and it’s been fantastic, they are both so interesting and have so many stories to tell and are such generous people too. Also, I think Falcor has a crush on Mary.
So today we spent the day resealing our stupid effing roof. It wasn’t too bad actually, I felt quite handy and useful and I think Amy did too. Once in the groove it actually became quite a bit of fun – until my OCD struck and I went a bit crazy with the silicone.
Waiting for it to dry, before applying another RV sealant for extra leakage protection, we took a trip to grab some lubrication for ourselves in the form of beer, and lubrication for our hungry Cobra so that she could keep wiping her bloodthirsty gas-guzzling smile with our greenbacks. It turned out to be that both necessities were on the other side of town close to downtown Halifax, so after a quick fill up that couldn’t have come soon enough, we decided to go and check out the city. Luckily for me Amy was driving because trying to navigate your way through a downtown city-centre in this beast is like putting a monkey at the wheel of a hummer in a parking lot. I don’t know what that actually means, I just made it up – point is, its scary and dangerous and hard.
After a few close run ins on the road, we decided to retreat with white knuckles and our tails between our legs and try again with a bit of fore planning tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Right so what I really want to catch you up on was our jaunt along the Cabot trail which is where we were before this and also where I took my vacation from recording the days events. It has been my very favourite part of the trip so far. Its funny because sometimes you hear about places that have so much hype that you expect to be under whelmed when you get there and I suppose quite often are, and then there places you think are overrated that completely blow you away and for me the Cabot Trail is the latter. Another place I experienced this was when I went to Paris, France. I had heard so much about it all my life and had seen so many pictures that I never imagined that it would ever meet my expectations, but it blew them away and I would go back there in a heartbeat.
So go to the Cabot Trail because the stories and picture I have for you will never do it justice.
So after leaving Ben Eoin we spent a night at the base of the Cabot Trail camping along some side street in the middle of nowhere on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic. It was as amazing as it sounds.
The next morning we started up the Trail which is basically a road (not a very good one) that winds through mountains along the Atlantic. Now I will say that if I had it to do over again, I would have chosen a much smaller ride cos there were times where we thought Old Bertha wouldn’t make it up and over the other side, like flooring it up and literally teetering over the other side – one bat of the eyelash would have made the difference. But the ol’ girl worked hard and got us round – even did a bit of off roading which I am now 100% certain she was not built for.
The Cabot Trail was so beautiful, a fantasy place like where those fairy guys lived in Lord of the Rings… or like in Avatar, with the shiny little bugs flying all around you, except we weren’t blue and we didn’t have to sleep in a crazy little machine to get us there… the Cobra took care of that.
So all in all we were there for 3 amazing days and nights; lots of hiking and swimming and driving round cliffs. I suppose apart from the scenery and wonderful people we met along the way, going whale watching was a highlight. We went out on a beautiful sunny day on a Zodiac motor boat, so we were very close to the water and there only 9 of us aboard including the Captain, so it was very intimate. The first whale we spotted was called a Minke. It was an amazing site to see it coming up out of the water to get air and diving back down and disappearing altogether. Apparently, these are not the most sociable of whales and are solitary as opposed to belonging to a pod so they kept screeching off every time we came near. Next we came across an entire pod of about 20 whales all coming up simultaneously to breath. These were called Pilot Whales and in the pod there were two amazingly adorable calves bobbing up and down with far more enthusiasm than the rest. It was a truly breathtaking experience and would recommend it to anyone. The last thing we saw was a curious 750-pound seal. She kept popping her head out of the water to check us out probably trying to figure out what the hell that odd looking creature was. We were out there for a total of two hours but it felt more like 5 minutes in the company of these beautiful creatures in such an intimate setting.
So we will be heading on to Halifax tomorrow to check out the city and sample the nightlife. I look forward to filling you in about our experiences there shortly.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Days 6,7 & 8
All right so we’ve been on the road for a week now and it feels like a lot longer! Possibly because we’ve been to so many places in such a short time.
We are currently in Nova Scotia in a place called Ben Eoin. We are staying at a really beautiful campsite overlooking the ocean and facing onto the tree-laden mountains. It’s a place you could only experience on the east coast.
The weather however, is currently very miserable! Raining, cold and a wind like you can only get at the ocean – I think it might actually be gale-force. The van she is a-rockin and a-rollin!
Because of the rain, Amy and I had to quite literally batten down the hatches! Ol’ Bertha you see, has a bit of a leaky roof. Give her a break though, she is 34 years old!
So if you are interested, the following is the procedure for battening down the hatches RV styles:
Someone climbs atop the roof by precariously scaling the passenger side door, hoofing through our bedroom window and pulling oneself on top of ol Bertha
Next, a tarp is laid over the front side of the roof, rope is pulled through holes at various points on the tarp and tied down to the van.
Finally, duct tape is placed along the width of the roof to prevent rain from getting underneath the tarp… sneaky rain!
Oh and than a few words are whispered to the powers that be.
Needless to say, the above procedure went out of the window today as a hurricane seemed to be blowing through town.
Anyway, fingers crossed we will not awake to an unwanted, freezing cold shower in bed tonight.
All right, so since I’ve been so lax about writing the last couple of days, lets give you the highlights of days 6 and 7.
Day 6, we woke to hit the flowerpots once again, this time to see them at low tide. Once again a stunning sight, and may I just add that all four of us have agreed that you should not be charged money to see a natural occurring wonder in your own back-yard – offensive! If anyone has any conservative strings to pull you should tell ol’ Harpy to fix that outrage. Oh and also, you should tell him to put cute little old men in golf carts all over that m’effer!
After hiking down to the pots, we then hiked to a beach on the other side of the park. Since we had all agreed that at the first opportunity we had to swim in the Atlantic Ocean, we would - and with some coaxing from Amy-shit-stirrer Karrandjas- she, myself and Ty all stripped down - some to their bikinis, Ty to his boxers - and dashed in… and promptly dashed right back out. A few short seconds of bone chilling cold and then - exhilaration! And then that crappy, slightly awkward feeling of spending the rest of the day in wet undies.
Back at camp later in the day and it was time to bid a sad farwell to Alison and Ty. So Amazing that we met up with you guys though! See you in Seattle!
A nice bike ride with pup-pup, some supper and then beddie-buys.
Day 7 and our clocks are coming right, early to bed, early to rise and I’m proud to say I’m using “early” in the strictest definition of the word.
Up with the crows (I just made that phrase up, I don’t think crow are even early risers – in fact, they might be nocturnal, who knows) and we are packing up to drive to PEI! So exciting! So a bit of sprucing up : shower and a hair dry – which may I say from a day 8 persepective is a blessing since it is rather hard to come by when your trying to do stuff on the cheap because your truck needs land right to Saudi Arabia to keep moving - And we’re on the road again!
The drive to PEI was spectacular, so green with trees, with a beautiful backdrop of sea and lake and quaint painted farm houses, horses and fields, my love, the pup-pup, the cobra and a good soundtrack. Over an 8 mile long steel bridge crossing oceanic province lines, and we arrive on the beautiful island of PEI. You have to go see this place, and if you do manage to go, visit the village of Summerside – we spent the night there on the waterfront back parking-lot of Price Choppers! It was pretty great. After much driving around looking for prime real-estate, we decided this had the best bang for our buck!
Another great sleep , another early morning, this time to make room for the trucks processing their loads through the Price Choppers receiving area and we’re on the road to tour the rest of PEI.
Twisting and turning, up and down these beautiful winding hills, we are driving the scenic roads of the Island when we find ourselves in Malpeque and, quite naturally, jointly reach the decision to have delicious fresh oysters caught that very morning from the waters all around us for breakfast! We stopped at a beautiful waterfront pub which had just opened seen as though it was barely on 10am, and sat down to a shared pint of beer and 6 beautiful, fat, gleaming oysters, Delish!
After spending much of the rest of the morning and early afternoon driving around the island, we eventually decided to head to the ferry that was to take us to Nova Scotia, but not before a failed attempt to grab some famous PEI mussels – unfortunately nothing was on the go at the only restaurant we saw for miles.
Aboard the massive ferry which carried mac trucks, RV’s and tens of cars, we stood over the bough watching the waves crash furiously over the front of the vessel as she made her way through the choppy waters of the Atlantic to the shores of Nova Scotia.
Whilst waiting we met three great people and their dogs who were doing much the same trip we were but in a 1976 mustard yellow Volvo. Two girls, one of which was an Australian transplant to Canada and one fellow who turned out to be a Parkdale street kid who, before this trip, had been all over the country by riding the rails – he seemed to me like an older Huck Finn with dreads.
After arriving at Pictou, Nova Scotia, we made our way to a beautiful and solitary Provincial Park that Amy spotted from the highway. We were the only campers there and it was great. Around dusk we made our camp fire and roasted some hot dogs for dinner while a cute, furry red squirrel taunted Falcor from the tree tops. After that, some chess, a bit of scrabble and you guessed: beddie buys!
The next morning we woke early and hiked down to the beautiful cliffs and beaches of our temporary home. It turned out that it was quite the archeological gem – an actively eroding cliff face and lots of rock fossils littering the beach. It was so exciting and really appealed to the not so small part of me that’s always wanted to dig up old bones and artifacts and discover ancient life. I think I might be the biggest nerd I know, but I’m totally fine with that.
Mid morning we packed up camp and headed east to Cape Breton where the Cabot trail lies ahead.
Unfortunately, the day was excessively windy and rainy and quite miserable, so we decided to try and find a place to wait out the storm, which is where we find ourselves now, in Ben Eion.
So we are up to date and hopefully I will be more diligent about recording the days as they unfold from here on in.
As for the rest of tonight: some canned supper, some delicious warm whiskey and nighty night.
We are currently in Nova Scotia in a place called Ben Eoin. We are staying at a really beautiful campsite overlooking the ocean and facing onto the tree-laden mountains. It’s a place you could only experience on the east coast.
The weather however, is currently very miserable! Raining, cold and a wind like you can only get at the ocean – I think it might actually be gale-force. The van she is a-rockin and a-rollin!
Because of the rain, Amy and I had to quite literally batten down the hatches! Ol’ Bertha you see, has a bit of a leaky roof. Give her a break though, she is 34 years old!
So if you are interested, the following is the procedure for battening down the hatches RV styles:
Someone climbs atop the roof by precariously scaling the passenger side door, hoofing through our bedroom window and pulling oneself on top of ol Bertha
Next, a tarp is laid over the front side of the roof, rope is pulled through holes at various points on the tarp and tied down to the van.
Finally, duct tape is placed along the width of the roof to prevent rain from getting underneath the tarp… sneaky rain!
Oh and than a few words are whispered to the powers that be.
Needless to say, the above procedure went out of the window today as a hurricane seemed to be blowing through town.
Anyway, fingers crossed we will not awake to an unwanted, freezing cold shower in bed tonight.
All right, so since I’ve been so lax about writing the last couple of days, lets give you the highlights of days 6 and 7.
Day 6, we woke to hit the flowerpots once again, this time to see them at low tide. Once again a stunning sight, and may I just add that all four of us have agreed that you should not be charged money to see a natural occurring wonder in your own back-yard – offensive! If anyone has any conservative strings to pull you should tell ol’ Harpy to fix that outrage. Oh and also, you should tell him to put cute little old men in golf carts all over that m’effer!
After hiking down to the pots, we then hiked to a beach on the other side of the park. Since we had all agreed that at the first opportunity we had to swim in the Atlantic Ocean, we would - and with some coaxing from Amy-shit-stirrer Karrandjas- she, myself and Ty all stripped down - some to their bikinis, Ty to his boxers - and dashed in… and promptly dashed right back out. A few short seconds of bone chilling cold and then - exhilaration! And then that crappy, slightly awkward feeling of spending the rest of the day in wet undies.
Back at camp later in the day and it was time to bid a sad farwell to Alison and Ty. So Amazing that we met up with you guys though! See you in Seattle!
A nice bike ride with pup-pup, some supper and then beddie-buys.
Day 7 and our clocks are coming right, early to bed, early to rise and I’m proud to say I’m using “early” in the strictest definition of the word.
Up with the crows (I just made that phrase up, I don’t think crow are even early risers – in fact, they might be nocturnal, who knows) and we are packing up to drive to PEI! So exciting! So a bit of sprucing up : shower and a hair dry – which may I say from a day 8 persepective is a blessing since it is rather hard to come by when your trying to do stuff on the cheap because your truck needs land right to Saudi Arabia to keep moving - And we’re on the road again!
The drive to PEI was spectacular, so green with trees, with a beautiful backdrop of sea and lake and quaint painted farm houses, horses and fields, my love, the pup-pup, the cobra and a good soundtrack. Over an 8 mile long steel bridge crossing oceanic province lines, and we arrive on the beautiful island of PEI. You have to go see this place, and if you do manage to go, visit the village of Summerside – we spent the night there on the waterfront back parking-lot of Price Choppers! It was pretty great. After much driving around looking for prime real-estate, we decided this had the best bang for our buck!
Another great sleep , another early morning, this time to make room for the trucks processing their loads through the Price Choppers receiving area and we’re on the road to tour the rest of PEI.
Twisting and turning, up and down these beautiful winding hills, we are driving the scenic roads of the Island when we find ourselves in Malpeque and, quite naturally, jointly reach the decision to have delicious fresh oysters caught that very morning from the waters all around us for breakfast! We stopped at a beautiful waterfront pub which had just opened seen as though it was barely on 10am, and sat down to a shared pint of beer and 6 beautiful, fat, gleaming oysters, Delish!
After spending much of the rest of the morning and early afternoon driving around the island, we eventually decided to head to the ferry that was to take us to Nova Scotia, but not before a failed attempt to grab some famous PEI mussels – unfortunately nothing was on the go at the only restaurant we saw for miles.
Aboard the massive ferry which carried mac trucks, RV’s and tens of cars, we stood over the bough watching the waves crash furiously over the front of the vessel as she made her way through the choppy waters of the Atlantic to the shores of Nova Scotia.
Whilst waiting we met three great people and their dogs who were doing much the same trip we were but in a 1976 mustard yellow Volvo. Two girls, one of which was an Australian transplant to Canada and one fellow who turned out to be a Parkdale street kid who, before this trip, had been all over the country by riding the rails – he seemed to me like an older Huck Finn with dreads.
After arriving at Pictou, Nova Scotia, we made our way to a beautiful and solitary Provincial Park that Amy spotted from the highway. We were the only campers there and it was great. Around dusk we made our camp fire and roasted some hot dogs for dinner while a cute, furry red squirrel taunted Falcor from the tree tops. After that, some chess, a bit of scrabble and you guessed: beddie buys!
The next morning we woke early and hiked down to the beautiful cliffs and beaches of our temporary home. It turned out that it was quite the archeological gem – an actively eroding cliff face and lots of rock fossils littering the beach. It was so exciting and really appealed to the not so small part of me that’s always wanted to dig up old bones and artifacts and discover ancient life. I think I might be the biggest nerd I know, but I’m totally fine with that.
Mid morning we packed up camp and headed east to Cape Breton where the Cabot trail lies ahead.
Unfortunately, the day was excessively windy and rainy and quite miserable, so we decided to try and find a place to wait out the storm, which is where we find ourselves now, in Ben Eion.
So we are up to date and hopefully I will be more diligent about recording the days as they unfold from here on in.
As for the rest of tonight: some canned supper, some delicious warm whiskey and nighty night.
Days 4 & 5
On day four we woke up pretty early, though 11 is early for me so I’ll be liberal on the definition here of “early”. We had decided to stay the night before in the town where we got our van fixed in Quebec as it was rather late by the time they had finished. A few blocks from where the truck was fixed in town, there was a “festival” on the go. Literally 10’s of RV’s were parked all over the parks and neighborhood streets, so we attached ourselves to the festival and got free accommodation, parking outside someone’s house on a random street with a couple other Rv’s. Armed with gratitude, we obviously felt obliged to go check out the festival and so set off to come up to a big-top tent with a handful of old timers doing line dancing. Amy and Falco then proceeded to get their two-step on.
That didn’t last t long however, as it was getting to be past most of the oldies’ ( no offence intended) bed time - so off to sleep we went in our new neighborhood.
On day five we woke up “pretty early”, got to Timmies (Super-huge Canadian coffee chain) and after pumping up the tires, hit the road. It was a massive driving day by the end of which, Amy and I had driven a total of 12 hours.
Once we got into New Brunswick the scenery was quite beautiful. We eventually arrived near Fundy where we were to meet our friends Ty and Alison and where we were to see one of the sights that I’ve most wanted to see ever in my whole life; the low and high tides at the Flower Pots! (Wiki that shit!) However, we ended up staying the night of day 4 after a long day of driving in a Wal-Mart parking lot, and I must say that it is the best sleep I've had all trip long. The reason for which, is that we were running out of gas (for a change!) and all exchanges of goods and services apparently cease to exist after about 10pm in NB.
So early we rose on day 5 (for real this time) to get down to Fundy National Park! We arrived round 12pm and set up camp, which consisted of me backing the van into the campsite and Amy pumping up a rubber ducky. (RV’s are awesome!)
After a little while Ty and Alison arrived to meet us, we had reserved the camp next to ours for them, which was awesome cos they are only about 5 steps away.
After lunch, we all set out to see the low tides at the flower pots, where the entire coast line changes and either rises or sinks by 50 feet, depending on the tide. There are two high tides and two low tides every day.
It was a truly awe inspiring sight where we got to walk the ocean floor quite literally. It was crazy muddy and Falcor was like a pig in poop. He loved it!
Amy and I made it all the way down to the new shoreline in mud halfway up our legs, it was great, I wanted to roll in it and then jump into the ocean but lucky I didn’t as afterwards we discovered you weren’t supposed to walk in the mud flats. Oh well! I loved it and I think everyone should try it.
In town we all bought ourselves delicious fresh lobster to cook for dinner … best camping meal ever!
Full and happy we were off to bed.
That didn’t last t long however, as it was getting to be past most of the oldies’ ( no offence intended) bed time - so off to sleep we went in our new neighborhood.
On day five we woke up “pretty early”, got to Timmies (Super-huge Canadian coffee chain) and after pumping up the tires, hit the road. It was a massive driving day by the end of which, Amy and I had driven a total of 12 hours.
Once we got into New Brunswick the scenery was quite beautiful. We eventually arrived near Fundy where we were to meet our friends Ty and Alison and where we were to see one of the sights that I’ve most wanted to see ever in my whole life; the low and high tides at the Flower Pots! (Wiki that shit!) However, we ended up staying the night of day 4 after a long day of driving in a Wal-Mart parking lot, and I must say that it is the best sleep I've had all trip long. The reason for which, is that we were running out of gas (for a change!) and all exchanges of goods and services apparently cease to exist after about 10pm in NB.
So early we rose on day 5 (for real this time) to get down to Fundy National Park! We arrived round 12pm and set up camp, which consisted of me backing the van into the campsite and Amy pumping up a rubber ducky. (RV’s are awesome!)
After a little while Ty and Alison arrived to meet us, we had reserved the camp next to ours for them, which was awesome cos they are only about 5 steps away.
After lunch, we all set out to see the low tides at the flower pots, where the entire coast line changes and either rises or sinks by 50 feet, depending on the tide. There are two high tides and two low tides every day.
It was a truly awe inspiring sight where we got to walk the ocean floor quite literally. It was crazy muddy and Falcor was like a pig in poop. He loved it!
Amy and I made it all the way down to the new shoreline in mud halfway up our legs, it was great, I wanted to roll in it and then jump into the ocean but lucky I didn’t as afterwards we discovered you weren’t supposed to walk in the mud flats. Oh well! I loved it and I think everyone should try it.
In town we all bought ourselves delicious fresh lobster to cook for dinner … best camping meal ever!
Full and happy we were off to bed.
Day Trois
So here we are, stuck in a truck-stop mechanic in Quebec. Old Bertha sprung a gas leak! We’ve been here now for about 3 hours just waiting and waiting and waiting some more. Thank God Quebec sells booze anywhere they can. Amy bought us a 12 pack which we are currently drinking in our van in the mechanic playing Scopa. I believe we are waiting for glue to dry and you know what they say about watching things dry! It’s a long process. Pup pup is passed out on the “sofa” as the sun is setting on another day, this the third of our great adventure; pity we ain’t goin nowhere right at the mo!
Hopefully tomorrow will bring better things. It will be a long day of driving as we have to catch up for today’s lack there of. No sleeping in Stacey Connell!
We left our second stop, an Rv park in the middle of nowhere and drove about 3 hours east through Montreal and into Quebec where of course we find ourselves now. The drive was a bit of a nightmare because well, we were driving a 3000 pound RV through Montreal! Oh and the locals have yet to discover the advent of the indicator, you know, the little clicky thing by your steering wheel that lets people know when you want to change lanes or leave the highway. It was … interesting and needless to say my knuckles are still a whitish colour. We will soon be heading to the “festival” as all signs indicate… A cluster of RV’s where cars move for people rather than people moving for cars and where the festivities lie I’m not sure.
It looks as though we may be on the move again … one final check from our monolingual mechanic, some hand gestures and … we’re on our way!!
To the festival we go!
Hopefully tomorrow will bring better things. It will be a long day of driving as we have to catch up for today’s lack there of. No sleeping in Stacey Connell!
We left our second stop, an Rv park in the middle of nowhere and drove about 3 hours east through Montreal and into Quebec where of course we find ourselves now. The drive was a bit of a nightmare because well, we were driving a 3000 pound RV through Montreal! Oh and the locals have yet to discover the advent of the indicator, you know, the little clicky thing by your steering wheel that lets people know when you want to change lanes or leave the highway. It was … interesting and needless to say my knuckles are still a whitish colour. We will soon be heading to the “festival” as all signs indicate… A cluster of RV’s where cars move for people rather than people moving for cars and where the festivities lie I’m not sure.
It looks as though we may be on the move again … one final check from our monolingual mechanic, some hand gestures and … we’re on our way!!
To the festival we go!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Road Trip Entry # 1
All right, so preparations for our massive road trip around North America have begun.
We have vigorously been looking at motor homes - our now preferred mode of transportation and are finding it hard to decide between two very qualified candidates.
Both are circa 1970 which somehow adds to the authenticity of our trip - American made obviously. It seems as though there was a certain grandeur, a "bigness" associated with American made cars that died with 1970's America, something that I'd like to recapture - the America of old, I loved it.
Obviously a bit of a gas guzzler and in no way in step with the recent environmental wave. I suppose I feel a bit guilty about that but I try to remind myself about the spirit of the trip and upon my return, will do my best to get back in line with reducing ones carbon footprint.
So hopefully we would have chosen our trusty steed soon and i will attach pic's then.
We have vigorously been looking at motor homes - our now preferred mode of transportation and are finding it hard to decide between two very qualified candidates.
Both are circa 1970 which somehow adds to the authenticity of our trip - American made obviously. It seems as though there was a certain grandeur, a "bigness" associated with American made cars that died with 1970's America, something that I'd like to recapture - the America of old, I loved it.
Obviously a bit of a gas guzzler and in no way in step with the recent environmental wave. I suppose I feel a bit guilty about that but I try to remind myself about the spirit of the trip and upon my return, will do my best to get back in line with reducing ones carbon footprint.
So hopefully we would have chosen our trusty steed soon and i will attach pic's then.
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