Day Four

MARDI

Waking up in La Belle Provence, tea and toast for free, and leaving the smell of the bovine behind, we hit the routier. The driving was easy, the road was straight, Stephen Lewis’ Massey Lectures make me cry with his righteous anger.

The Pilgrim drove us straight to our hotel where we encamped, called the eldest, and walked over to see her office.

SHE IS THE BOSS!!! The biggest chair, the best view, the corner office. Its always great to see our children in their worlds. And this one is definitely hers.

We walked around the market a bit, picked up supplies, walked down to the harbor, took in the car show, (apparently yellow is the theme of this one), and toured the little general store/tourist booth. Nice architecture in St. John—all rebuilt after the fire of 1877, of course.

Back to the hotel (formerly the Mayor’s Manse) for cocktails and gossip, then off to dinner at Billy’s Seafood. We meet Adrian at the door, just arriving from the ‘Fax for the big meetings tomorrow. So, off we four intrepids go to find the fish. And find the fish we did. While Adrian spun tales from the Cape where she was born, we ate the ocean’s finest, drank a fine bottle of Grigio, and then wandered home early to bed.

Big day tomorrow for workers and travellers alike. Good luck to us all.

Good night

Day Three

MONDAY

Hugs and kisses, goodbyes and thanks. And back on the River of Cars in our trusty cruiser. The scenery a little boring. Lunch of pre-made steak sandwiches in a little pull-off near a tourist booth. But Quebec is truly a country within a country. It all feels a little different, a little strange. It feels like traveling.
A brief stop at Grosse Ile to look at the Canadian Ellis Island. Everything from middle-aged gay men sunbathing in leather g-strings, to groups of old men sitting in a semi-circle, not vigorous enough to make the 5 hour trip to see where their ancestors landed after a thirty day one. The Pilgrim took a picture of something out there—maybe Grosse Ile, maybe not.

Then we pulled in to Montmagny…roughly translated “smells like cow-dung”. This whole town smells of cow! And I’ve yet to see one.
The hotel is a completely serviceable, empty box. There could not be less décor in the room.
A downtown shop for the next day’s meal, and home for a cocktail and a game of Three Down.
A lovely restaurant in the old town, La Belle Epoque. Local cheeses and fresh fish…

Trout from the local river and a cedar planked salmon that made the weary travelers happy and full.
We stopped off on the way home to see a serious game of softball being played on a floodlit field down by the river.

Stands, spectators, announcer, ump—the real deal. In French, of course, so a little hard to understand who to root for. And the mosquitoes were huge—and hungry.
So, back to the box …strangers in a strange land.

Day two

SUNDAY

Oh, what a glorious day! “In the high nines”, says brother Joe, not one to hand out such praise lightly. Sunny, bright, smells like the Islands.

We took a day off, just ‘cause we could. A day of respite, if you will, after the start of our long journey. A chance to take a ride on a real river, instead of the River of Cars. And it turned out fine.
Sitting around on the porch, tea and toast. The Pilgrim went to the Tabernacle Mass with her sister, while I just drank more heathen tea.

Then, a picnic packed, off to, appropriately enough, Picnic Point.

A little walk in the woods to work up an appetite revealed my Spirit Animal standing by her baby and watching, always watching. Letting us get closer than we ever expected, and always a surprise when she bounds away, gracefully. This time—towards her baby. Then, vanishing in the woods as if they were never there. I have no idea what any of it means…but it always seems to mean something.

A boat ride to the middle of the river, put up the umbrella and float.

Time passes. Then home for naps. A dinner shopped and made. Grilled dinner—steaks, (portobellos for the little Vegan among us) potatoes, asparagus, the Pilgrim’s famous green bean dish….a lovely little meal.
Then the Vegan and the boys on the Sunset Cruise (the Pilgrim and her sister end the day together as it started—this time at the Rocks).
And what a sunset it was. “In the high nines”

Grappa. snore.

Journey to the East

The blog

DAY ONE

Well, here we go again, the Pilgrim and I, on a journey to the east. Some last minute organic shopping around, packing the car, one last shower and hit the road. Well, a chai and the best muffin on the Danforth to sustain our early journey…and then, hit the road.

Traffic not terrible, and always plenty to talk about. And then a Western story by Elmore Leonard to keep us entertained. And, of course, music.

Lunch was bar-b-q pork sandwiches by the lake in PresQ’Isle (after a pee at the Big Apple) some silly pictures,

and back up the stream to the rushing river of the Four-Oh-One. Eventless border crossing took us to at least One thousand and one Islands and into the arms of brother Joe and the familiar family. All just back and glowing from their own worldly travels, stories and pictures abound.

And then this…. Joe, the Pilgrim and I went down to the rocks for a swim. Nice. Then, it starts to rain….hard. Really hard. We get out and start walking home in the downpour. Rain so hard, (and you’re already wet) it just doesn’t matter. That’s taking you back to a childhood adventure you just don’t get to have much anymore. The high point of my day.

Then a nice, veggie dinner, a Grappa or Lemoncello, and Joe and the kids go into town to sing and play.

The Pilgrim and I snoring, I like to think gently, into the night.