End of Days

This is our last day in Canada for a while.  American customs, Homeland Security and CIA willing we will cross into the US tomorrow.  Tomorrow night we will, hopefully, be in Bangor Maine. 

As we were heading to the ferry we encountered very strong winds.  Apparently Environment Canada posted a “Wreckhouse” wind warning.  Now THAT sounds ominous!  Wreckhouse, we found out, is a place just to the North and West of the ferry terminal where the wind can get up to 200 kph.  It is called Wreckhouse because the wind used to blow the trains off the tracks and has even blown semi-trailer trucks off the road.  As we were approaching Port Aux Basques there was a huge flashing sign saying there was a high wind hazard and cars should pull off the road.  I did not know if that meant right there or if the wind got too strong.  It was unclear.  You would think that with an issue like that they would try to be specific.  Luckily we had booked our accommodation at a place called Codroy, which was just before the Wreckhouse area.   The wind howled until about midnight.  I kept looking outside to see if there were any semi’s flying by, but no luck.  Just a few houses and an old woman with a pointy hat on a bicycle.

We came across from Port Aux Basques, Newfoundland to North Sydney, Nova Scotia on the Marine Atlantic Ferry.   We all gripe about BC Ferries and all the problems that beset them but now that I have seen Marine Atlantic BC Ferries looks pretty good.  If Marine Atlantic is the Air Canada of ferries then BC Ferries is the Westjet.  The ferry was an hour and a half late leaving Newfoundland after taking two and a half hours to load.  When we got to Sydney it took almost that long to unload.  Apparently a motor home was stalled and no one could leave the ship until it got started again.   I wonder what would happen if there was an emergency?

Our car was sequestered in the belly of the ferry which meant that we had to drive down a ramp to the front of the ferry then back up to reach our parking space.  When it came time to unload we had to drive to the front of the ferry and turn around and go up the ramp to the stern of the ferry and turn around again and drive in a circle once more to eventually get to a ramp off the ferry.   We were humming the “Blue Danube” waltz as we went around and around and around in circles inside the ferry.  How we maintained the good humour to do so is questionable.

It was sad to leave Newfoundland.  We both really enjoyed our stay there.  Everyone at the B&B in Sydney agreed with us.  Most of them had been on the same ferry as us and the topic at breakfast was, of course, Marine Atlantic.  I tried to change the subject to “Newfoundland” to make sure that the ferry service did not leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.  The great breaky helped.

Bald Eagle flying over Bras D'Or lake- Cape Breton

Since our next destination is Florida we are going to have to start training for further drives.   Up until now, because I am a wuss, we have only been averaging about 100 k per day.   Now that I am not on the bike we can extend our distances; but that will take some training.  Our bums are not used to sitting for that long on soft seats.  Today we drove from Sydney to Moncton – about 500 kilometers.  We got out of the car like much older people – groaning and grumbling and stretching our backs.

There are a couple of hurricanes hanging about off the east coast.  I hope we don’t encounter them in any meaningful way.  Our little car with the carrier on the roof and the bicycles hanging off the back is not the most aerodynamic of vehicles.  Even with me sitting inside it is not really heavy although it is pretty close to the ground.  If the wind is behind us, great!   If it is from the side or the front we might end up going some place we hadn’t planned on...  

What the wind was blowing

I don't think we are in Kansas anymore...

  

I'se de bye

Gros Morne mountain

Newfoundland continues to enchant us. We have left St. John’s and are gradually working our way across the province to Port Au Basque to catch the ferry to Nova Scotia.  We stopped in Gander to spend the night and went for a walk to work out the kinks from sitting in the car too long.   In contrast to St. John’s, which is the oldest city in North America, Gander is relatively new having been built during WW2 as an airbase.  It is the site of the famous 9-11 incident which brought the hospitality of the Newfoundlanders to fame.  This hospitality and warmth is a real thing.  Everyone we met on the street greeted us – even a group of young girls who interrupted their heavy conversation about hair and makeup to smile and say hello.  Our waitress at the restaurant said to us, “ Oi reconnize ye frum earlier t’day, me love.  Ye were out walkin’, eh?”

I don’t think you could get away with anything in Gander…

We went and explored a bit of Gros Morne National park yesterday and today.  Telen had been there before about twenty years ago and wanted to see it again.  It really is beautiful and apparently is a world heritage site because of that.  Not to demean the park but, as beautiful as it is, it is not more beautiful than most places in BC - including our own Vancouver Island.  It is different, however, in that there are many small villages perched right on the shore and the houses are placed in more or less complete disorder.  None of this "streets and avenues" business – you build the houses where you live, bye.

The Village of Norris Point

We stopped at a lighthouse and had a chat with the Parks Canada lady who was curating it.  We asked her where a good place to get lunch was and she said to go to Jackie’s Place.  When I asked her where that was she pointed out the door and said “Roight dere.”   I looked out the door and all I could see was the parking lot and some trees.  When I looked puzzled she said, “Oi can see it frum here, bye!” and pointed across the bay to the village of Rocky Harbour in the distance.  We never did find Jackie or her restaurant, if she had one.   For all we know it might have just been Jackie’s house and maybe she made a good lunch.

Interestingly enough, in the lighthouse where they had a brief history of the west of Newfoundland, they referred to 1949 as the year Canada joined Newfoundland.   I love it.

Today we took a cruise around Bonne Bay which is part of Gros Morne park.  It was quite interesting learning about the history and geology of the area.  We came across some porpoises in the bay and we gave chase.   I thought we were going to run them down we came so close and the porpoises were swimming hard to get away.   If a captain had done that in BC we would find him hanging above the harbor with the crows feasting on his eyeballs.

Telen spotted a moose on the hillside as we were cruising by.  Apparently moose were introduced here in 1900 and have since made a concerted effort to take over Newfoundland.

Telen's Moose running from the sound of a wok 

I think they should introduce some Chinese to deal with them.  I am sure they would come up with some recipes for stir-fried moose.   But then what would we do with all the Chinese?

I‘m not sure Telen will forgive me for that remark…

I mean, Boris and Natasha haven’t even been able to deal with one Moose much less over half a million of them.

Sunning myself on the balmy beaches of Newfoundland near Lobster Cove Head

Here are some interesting things we noticed here.  Lots of houses still have their Christmas lights up.   And that is not through neglect – the houses and yards here are immaculate.  People seem to put solar lights in the cemeteries on the graves of their loved ones.  Are ghosts afraid of the dark?  No one gives you distances in kilometers; they give to you in time.   “It’s boot 1 are west of ‘ere, bye.” (it’s about 1 hour west of here, boy)

People here in Newfoundland are proud of being Newfies.  They have a long history of taking care of each other and struggling to wrest a living from an inhospitable land.  This has shaped their character making them strong, proud, resilient and caring. 

They have a right to be proud.

Saint John's

I am finally able to include some pictures now.   So, for those of you who are scoffing at my yellow streak with regards to Cape Breton I am enclosing some photos of the road.  These are not my photos.  I am not sure how I would get into a position to get these photos and if I did the pictures would only be a shaky blur.  Ok, I am a wuss.

The road.  Seriously!

I never claimed to be otherwise.

We have made it to St. John’s Newfoundland.  It is not that easy to get here.   The only way to get to Newfoundland is by ferry.  This is not your BC ferry where the trip lasts one and a half hours and you barely have time to finish your coffee.   The trip from North Sydney Nova Scotia to Argentia Newfoundland is sixteen hours.  So, since it was rainy, windy and cold and since the car does not float well, we took the ferry. 

We might have better off swimming.

Marine Atlantic is the Air Canada of ferry corporations.  “We are not happy until you are unhappy”.  As I mentioned before they bumped us by 2 days so that we had to kill 2 days and, since we did the Cabot trail, those 2 days nearly killed me.  When we got to the ferry terminal at 4 pm they told us that they had just called for boarding.   I thought that was peculiar because the ferry did not leave for 2 hours.  When we finally boarded the ferry it was almost 6 pm.  2 hours to load the ferry??   We had booked a cabin to sleep in since the ferry was running overnight. No one had told us which cabin was ours so we went to the purser’s office to find out.  Well, since we had been bumped from a previous sailing our cabin had been cancelled and we were put on a waiting list. No one had told us that!  I was a little bit rude to the gentleman who was dealing with us.  I don’t think that put me in their good books.

Telen was trying to calm me down and sent me down to the car to get some pillows and a blanket so we could try to sleep in a chair overnight.  I was not looking forward to trying to ride into St. John’s with no sleep.   We decided to get some dinner and paid an exorbitant amount of money for the buffet.  I thought that might calm me down a little.  The ray of light in this buffet was the roast beef.  I saved a few slabs of it to use as soles for my bike shoes.  Far better than the carbon fibre they came with.   Periodically there would be announcements of people who were on the waiting list to come and get their cabin.  About halfway through dinner our name was called and we scurried to the reception to get our cabin assignment.  $189.00 for a cabin.   It had better be good.   I went down to get our toiletries, clothes etc from the car.   Sorry, once the vessel is underway your are not allowed to access your motor-vehicle, sir.

So now we had a cabin but not even a toothbrush!  We ended up buying travel toothbrushes and a disposable razor from the gift shop and retired to our cabin.  The cabin was the size of a closet with 2 sets of bunks in it set amidships so we did not even have a window.   For $189.00!

To compensate us for our two day delay Marine Atlantic was mailing us vouchers for $200.00 to be used on our next trip with them.  Mailing them to Victoria!   So, we went into the ferry terminal in Argentia to see if we could get the vouchers directly and use them on our trip back.  They pulled the “not my department” trick on me and everyone gave me another person to phone but “Dey won’t be in ‘til Tuesday, sor.  It’s a long weekend, ya know.”

There is no way off of Newfoundland except by Marine Atlantic.  I think they are a secret department of the federal government whose mission is to keep Newfoundlanders from spreading their subversive good natures to the rest of Canada.

In spite of our rude introduction to Newfoundland we love it here.  Mind you, we are here in the summer when the weather is good.  There is so much energy and life in this place and the city itself is beautiful.  And no one can top the Newfies for warmth and humour.

Telen dipping her wheel in the Atlantic

me too!

Well, I made it to the other side of the continent and climbed Signal Hill.  I did it!  I lifted my bike up for the traditional “end of the trip” salute on the top of Signal Hill with some very mixed emotions; elation that I did it and sadness that the cycling part is over.  There was some pride in that I rode most of the way and humbleness that I did not ride the whole way.  I know that Telen is proud of me and that feels good but I am not completely proud of myself because I had to ride in the car some of the time.

The Traditional Cyclist's Salute

We celebrated with lobster for dinner.  I am actually getting kind of tired of Lobster.  We went to a café today for lunch that served traditional Newfoundland food.   Telen had cod tongues.  Apparently that is very popular here.  I had cod au gratin.  Interesting taste sensation.  Cod and cheese…  Maybe I will stick with lobster.  

This trip has shown me how amazing Canada is.  And how big!  It has shown me how the culture changes as one travels across the country.  It makes me proud to say I am Canadian.

Telen writes:

Being here in Newfoundland has brought back fond memories of how warm and gentle the Newfies are.  I lived here for a year in 1988 completing my internship.  St. John’s has grown in size and prospered into a quaint metropolis.  There are various coffee specialty shops, even a Starbucks and a selection of ethnic cuisine restaurants.  None of these was available 24 years ago.  After the collapse of the cod fisheries in the early 1990’s, the oil industry from Hibernia has gradually helped the recovery of the economy.  The locals said that they are pleased to see people returning to the Rock.  How can you not love this place when a sentence is often finished with “mi darling”, “mi dukky” or “mi love”.

Yes, I do like eating cod tongues!

I feel a twinge of sadness that this portion of our journey is near the end.  Each place we have visited and all the people we have met will be in our memories for a long time to come.

because it's there

You will have to excuse my typing.  It is a little shaky, I know, but I have a good excuse for that.   It is called the Cabot trail.   For most of you the Cabot trail would be a beautiful drive with breath-taking scenery, vast expanses and huge amazing vistas, yadda yadda yadda.  I am sure that is true as far as it goes.  For someone like me who has a fear of heights it is a terrifying, heart-pounding, roller-coaster ride.  The only  vistas I saw were the side of road and the dashboard of the car.  Breath-taking indeed - breath-releasing not so much.

There were three areas that kicked in my primal, falling out of the tree, self-preservation instincts.  The first was French mountain, the second was Mackenzie mountain and the third was Cape Smokey (I knew that damned cat was going to come back to haunt me! - Telen had a cat named Smokey who hated me)  The rest of the trip was actually very interesting and picturesque.   Those three spots,however, almost did me in.   

Why would you build a road that goes straight up a mountain with sheer cliffs dropping down to the ocean on one side and sheer cliffs going straight up on the other?  Then why would you twist that road like a politician's promise?  Then why would you suddenly drop the road straight down toward the edge of cliff that falls 1600 meters to the crashing rocks of the ocean below and at the last minute put in a ninety degree left turn?  Who thinks like that?

We did French and Mackenzie mountains yesterday.  They were on the western side of the cape which is supposedly the most rugged with the Atlantic side being the more gentle side.  Last night we stayed at a nice B&B in North Cape where I spent the evening shaking, sweating and snivelling.

We did Cape Smokey today and, of course, Telen was driving.   I think she was getting impatient with me and my phobia.  

"Stop your whimpering, sit up straight and take your thumb out of your mouth I can't understand a word you are screaming.  And open the window.  What is that god-awful smell?"   

I think she was just touchy about having to drive again.

My favourite place on the Cabot trail was a town called Chetticamp on the western side of the island.   It is an Acadian town that sits right on the ocean.  It has a unique appearance in that the houses look like they are just popping up out the ground with nothing else around them.  The accent of the people there is much softer than the Quebecois and very gentle on the ear.  We had lunch there and had Acadian meat pies with home-made vegetable soup while a fiddler played in the background.  It was an extremely pleasant experience.

Interestingly enough, this morning at the B&B when we had breakfast we were the only ones who spoke English.  Everyone else at the table spoke a version of French.  One family was from France, one family was from Quebec City and one man was from Germany but spoke French.  It was strange to be the lingual minority.  Normally most people have some English. I know that sounds arrogant, but English is fast becoming the lingua franca of the world. English is a pidgin of many other languages and so it becomes the common language for people who wish to communicate.  The English-speakers have managed to alienate so many other people in the world that they have learned the language just to be able to curse us out.  It is not that I haven't a desire to learn another language but there is a gap between my desire and my ability.  Weirdly enough I could read the Gaelic on the signs and posters in the B&B better than I could understand the French spoken at the table.  How sad is that? 

Tonight we are staying at a little cottage in Wreck Cove.  After going over Cape Smokey the name of the town seems singularly appropriate. I am not sure if there is anything in Wreck Cove other than this cottage.  I have noticed in Cape Breton that a small community of five or six hundred people will have an enormous church and a huge cemetery.  I guess Bretons go to church and die a lot.    

Praying is probably important to people who have to drive those roads all the time.

Telen writes:

Rand deserves a T-shirt that says "I survived the cliffs of Cabot Trail".  I feel empathy for him as I have a strong phobia towards spiders and snakes.  I know he feels this is a major attack to his moral character but I see this as a rather sweet human trait.  After completing the first day on the Cabot Trail traversing 3 mountain passes yesterday, Rand started asking a number of people about the degree of steepness of Cape Smokey which we would need to traverse the next day.  He asked our B&B host Hansell.  He asked the chef who greeted us last night at dinner.  He asked the lady at the front desk of the restaurant.  The cliffs and the steepness of Cape Smokey became worse and worse with each consecutive description.  I had to stop Rand from asking any more people as I felt that this action was not helping to reassure him :)  Rand coped very well during the drive.  He was unusually quiet and did not try to give me any driving instructions like he normally would do.  The only thing he said as we were going through numerous mountainous hairpin turns was "Telen, it is still 30 (km/hr)" i.e. "don't speed up".

I enjoy the Celtic and Acadian culture on Cape Breton Island.  A large number of people can trace several family generations all the way back to the early 1800's.  Although the villages are small, I see the presence of young people and children walking around.  These villages are alive and thriving.

Cape Breton

We have arrived back on the mainland.  We thought that we had seen the last of the sculptured lawns and the considerate, friendly people.   Nope.  They exist here on Cape Breton Island too.   We need to take a quintessential essence of the people of the Maritimes and, using a huge fleet of crop dusters, spray it over the rest of Canada.  It is not that we have found the rest of Canada unfriendly, far from it, it is just that you think Yohan Blake is fast and then Usain Bolt shows up.

As far as the sculpted lawns go; the Maritimes can keep that bit.  Mowing lawns to me is like putting lettuce in salad.  Everyone does it and it makes the salad look good but there always seems to be a lot of it and it takes a lot of time.  I have similar feelings about lawn mowing and lettuce.

The ride into Baddeck today was refreshing.  It was quite a bit cooler than it has been with a few rain showers now and again.  Since we have been existing in a heat wave since late June it was nice to have the cool showers.   I didn't even put my rain jacket on, I just enjoyed the sprinkles.  Luckily it wasn't until I arrived here in Baddeck that the rain began to get down to business.  Since it was raining and cool we had to have another Lobster dinner.  Sigh.

This morning I got a phone call from the Ferry service that runs to Newfoundland.  Apparently the Newfies heard Telen was coming and are scurrying to hide all their mussels.  Prince Edward Island talked. The Newfies came up with the excuse that one of their ferries is malfunctioning to give themselves more time.  So, our reservation to get to Newfoundland has been delayed by two days.  That set us to scurrying because we are now arriving in Newfie on the labour day weekend.  Accommodation is going to be scarce.  Fortunately the place that we had booked already was able to accommodate us.  Whew!

We have two days to kill.  I have been reluctant to do the Cabot trail because I have a fear of heights.  Every time Telen mentions it I squirm and whine but she has been supportive by suggesting that I was being childish and cowardly.  So I hid under the bed and stuck my tongue out at her. She won, of course, and so tomorrow we start on the Cabot trail.  I can hardly wait...

Cape Breton has a very Celtic flavour.  A lot the road signs are in both English and Gaelic.  Almost every face here is pale with lots of freckles.  It almost feels like we are back in Ireland again, including the rain.  The area was colonized by mostly Scottish immigrants, though, not Irish.  (Hence the name Nova Scotia) Since there is such a huge Scottish influence here I thought the lake here needed a monster.  I can fix that. I will go for a swim...

Today we went for lunch at Wong's Bras D'Or chinese restaurant and were served by a young lady with red hair and freckles.  Served our food by a celtic lady in Chinese restaurant with a french name.  Only in Canada, you say?

Cape Breton is really mix of Scottish and French.  A lot of the Acadians that were expelled from New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island and parts of Nova Scotia by the Brits ended up here in Cape Breton.  This is creating a new mix that is unique to this area.  It should be interesting to explore.

By the way - the Cabot trail is mis-named.  John Cabot's real name was Giovanni Caboto.  He was from Italy.  It should be the Giovanni trail and they should serve Spaghetti.

In my world they would.

musselbound

Prince Edward Island is green.  There are a lot of trees and vegetation here which makes it green, but that is the same with most of Canada with the exception of the prairies which is mostly yellow.  They recycle, reuse, eat organically, and compost so that makes them green but, again, that is true for most of Canada except Alberta.  They envy richer provinces so that makes them green, but again, that is the same with most of Canada.  What is so green about PEI?

Their obsession with Ann of Green Gables and grass!  There is nowhere you can go without seeing some reference, picture, play, doll or precious little gifty  having to do with Ann of Green Gables.  And she did not even exist!  She is fictitious!  Kind of like Stephen Harper.  The whole province is head-over-heels for a character from a children's book.  Time to move on PEI.

The other thing they are obsessed with is grass.   Granted, in BC we are obsessed with grass as well, but this is different.   I am talking about lawn.  You would not believe the lawns here in PEI.   I have seen tidy little houses sitting in the middle of a hectare of lawn.   NO DANDELIONS!   I think the province has outlawed them.   Judging by the conspicuous lack of dandelions I think the penalty might be execution.  The ride-on mower people have done the same brainwashing here that the pick-up truck people have done in Alberta.  The money lost to the economy from people missing days at work, leaving their families and committing crimes to pay for their lawn care must be staggering!

We rode out to a place called Panmure Island the other day.   That was when I saw a whole town sitting on a huge lawn...  but I digress.  Panmure Island is an island which up until the mid-century had a causeway to it that was only accessible at low tide.  They then created a causeway that was useable at all tide levels and over time a large beach formed from the famous red sand of PEI.  Almost nobody has heard of the red sand, but  it is famous!  So, we rode over the causeway to visit the lighthouse on the island and paid a few dollars for a tour.   The tour consisted of us climbing up to the top of the lighthouse and looking out.  The young lady who was our tour guide didn't seem to know much about the lighthouse but she took our picture at the top and that was that.

Climbing up a lighthouse in cycling shoes with cleats is not recommended.  Climbing down is even less so.  Cycling shoes are kind of like a duck's feet.   In the right environment they work really well.  Otherwise, you walk like a duck.

We visited the beach and put our feet in the Atlantic (Northumberland strait, actually) and gazed at the pink sand.   I am still having a bit of trouble with that.  The problem with walking on the sand, putting your feet in the ocean and then putting your cycling  shoes back on is that the sand sticks to your feet.  Riding after that is like wearing sandpaper socks.  And there is a kind of weird smell to your feet when you take your shoes off at home.

Also on the causeway there was a little outdoorsy, fast-food place where we stopped for lunch.  Only in PEI is lobster and seafood chowder considered fast food.  There were a lot of flies around the eatery so after the young lady closed her little window after taking your order or passing out your food we were serenaded with the sound of fly swatters coming from inside.  Kind of put you off your feed a little.

We rode in to Saint Peters yesterday from Montague.  The map shows the route as straight as an arrow almost the whole way and the write-up that accompanies it says the same thing.  It is true, the road does not deviate left or right for about 40 kilometers.

They did not mention the up and down bit.

Yesterday and today we are at the little town of about 500 called Saint Peters on the PEI north coast.  The original name was Saint Pierre but that got changed when the touchy-feely English chased the Acadians out, leveled the forest and alienated the native people.  Now the primary industry here is mussel farming.  Telen is in heaven.   If we stay here any longer  there will be no mussels left.  The only place to eat in this little town is a chippy called, strangely enough, Rick's Fish and Chips.  They serve mussels there as well as an occasional bit of fish.   The chips, of course, are made from famous PEI potatoes.

Yesterday when I went to upgrade my operating system on my computer it got part way through the upgrade and crashed saying that my hard-drive was corrupted.  I am writing this on Telen's I-Pad and so I don't have access to any pictures on my computer, so I am sorry about no pictures on this entry.  We are not in any large towns for the next little while so it may be some time before I can get my computer fixed.  My hard-drive has been hanging around with the wrong crowd!

Telen writes

I am enchanted by the people and pace of life in PEI.  The 3 bed & breakfast places that we have stayed in do not lock their doors at night.  No one locks their bicycles outside either.  Cars would stop half a block away if they see us with our bikes on the side of the road, to give us room!  My cycling experience on PEI is definitely one of the best.
I think  I need to back off from mussels for a while as I have eaten so much of it.  PEI has been successfully cultivating mussels since the 1970's and it is big business along with the potato farming.  Just outside of our windows at the Tir Na Nog Inn, we can see hundreds of buoys marking the mussel "socks" in the St Peters Bay.  A mussel sock is a mesh bag about 20 meters long, for the mussel to grow on.  It takes about 2 years before the mussels reach the commercial size.  We found that a lobster needs to grow for about 7-8 years before reaching the size of about a pound, before marketing.

Prince Edward Island

Up until now we have been staying in assorted campgrounds, cheap hotels, hostels and some places that belie categorization.  Now is the time for luxury.  On the PEI leg of the trip we booked a self-guided tour through an outfit called McQueens in Charlottetown.  I realize that self-guided seems like a bit of an oxymoron. However, what they do is give us a map, transfer our belongings and set up the accommodation.  We are leaving the car in Charlottetown and taking just what we need for a week.  Last night, tonight and for the next few days we are staying in very fancy B&B’s, at least, fancy compared to our previous accommodations. (Not saying much!) Not only that but we get to ride together!  Pretty decadent, I know. 

We like PEI.   It has a very nice feel to it.  When you want to cross the road people stop their cars to let you cross, unlike Alberta where they aim for you.  Everyone has that Maritime friendliness and a laid-back attitude.

Kind of like Victoria on pot.

We did a ride around Charlottetown yesterday and saw the sights.  For a city that figured so heavily in Confederation it is quite small.  People here are still a little puzzled by bicycles – not exactly sure if these new-fangled inventions will catch on.   Our helmets and cycling gear have raised no end of eyebrows.  But, in typical PEI fashion they are willing to give it a try, so they give us lots of room and lots of puzzled looks.  Ontario, sorry to say, but PEI also kicks your ass.   How does it feel to have your ass kicked by the little kid with the big glasses in the corner who eats the crayons?

Telen riding the PEI roads. 

Last night we went out for dinner at a Japanese restaurant.   So, an Irishman and a Chinese lady in PEI were served Japanese sushi prepared and served by an Indian man from Korea.  Only in Canada, you say?

Our ride today was from Charlottetown (l love the name!) to Montague by the back roads.  We rode past very many potato farms and small villages.  The red soil is a bit disconcerting – we always expect rich soil to be black.  Apparently the red colour comes from a high percentage of iron oxide in the soil.   I guess no one in PEI suffers from anemia.  But what really twists my mind is the pink roads.  I guess if you make asphalt from the local red dirt you get pink asphalt.  It takes a little getting used to.  Telen liked it because she said it matched her socks.

Telen and the famous red dirt of PEI.  

We ran into a weird obstacle today.   A loon standing in the middle of the road.  I am talking about the bird, not some crazy politician.  It was really strange because he was not about to move for anything – not even cars.  He did poop when he saw me coming but then that happens to lots of people when they see me in spandex.

Telen has not been on her bike for quite a while because my initial idea for her riding was, like most of my ideas, workable only in science fiction.  So, yesterday and today were her first rides of the trip.  It was a little frightening.   I would power up a hill and slow down at the top to wait for her and she was right behind me yelling at me to “Get out of the way, you idiot, what are trying to do, cause an accident?!”  Okay, for those of you who know Telen you know that that is an unlikely scenario.  She didn’t use the word “idiot”.

Okay, not all the roads are pink!
 This is a picture of some fool against the beautiful countryside of PEI

Telen writes:

I enjoyed cycling with Rand these past 2 days.  I keep my eyes on his back while he reads the directions from our tour guidebook.  My legs are complaining tonight as we cycled over 50 km today.  We are staying in a little town of 1,500 people called Montague tonight.  The town is situated on the east coast of PEI.  It has a lovely harbour and well kept houses.  Near the edge of the harbour, I noticed a fancy 2-story building with a Canadian flag flying outside.  The lady from the Tourist information bureau said that it is a research centre for alcohol and drug addiction (not a detox centre).  She said that no one ever seems to know what goes on in there and no one comes to talk to the locals.  How odd I thought!  I wondered what kind of research is going on in there…  Anyways, the centre is scheduled to close down next year.

My goal is to taste some famous PEI mussels before we leave.