Our Day in St. John's

Today was our day alone in the city, before we board the ship for the circumnavigation. We slept in, and got up just when breakfast was ready. And what a sumptuous breakfast: French toast, fruit, yogurt, juice, coffee...yum! And our host, Mary, came and regaled us with stories of the town and such. It was a real treat. And of course took longer than usual, as it should.

So we finally hit the street about ten in the morning, heading downhill towards the harbour. Down Prescott Street, along Duckworth, and then along Water Street.

There have been a lot of changes since I was here last. Going to Sobeys last night pretty well encapsulated all that had changed. When I was here 38 years ago, you couldn't find a head of lettuce anywhere on the island. Milk was scarce (there are few if any dairy cows on the island). Now they have all the dairy you could ask for, and several types of lettuce, along with couscous, lentils, and many exotic foods. And the wine store had a better selection than ours in Dundas. That's what happens when you go away for almost four decades!

So the downtown had also changed. There are now condos, both ones built inside old buildings, and new buildings as well. There are stores of many kinds along Duckworth, and along Water Street. The City has built parks and parkettes in many places, and has had the good sense to keep the old buildings where possible. And of course there are the houses.


Houses of many colours, and many vintages, along steeply-sloped streets. Most are clapboard, with some in stone. And the stores are the same.



And the murals along public spaces.



We did a lot of walking. Stopped in a pub called "the Ship", which is the home pub for a group we like called "the Once". A beer therre, then some more walking, and a lovely seafood dinner at "Olivers". On our way out, we noticed again that the moon was nicely placed over the harbour. Just behind Signal Hill.



Now up Prescott Street (and I do mean up), and back to Cantwell House. A very pleasant day. Tomorrow we get on the ship.

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Location:St. John's, NFLD

The Road to Newfoundland

So soon after the previous trip, we are now on our way to Canada's second-newest province, Newfoundland. It's been busy, getting home only four days ago, doing laundry, packing. And Darlene had her Retirement Party two days ago. So this trip will begin with a rest.

After a neighbourly drive to the train station, we got to Toronto and then to the Billy Bishop Airport on the Island. Porter flies to St. John's, but stops in Ottawa and Halifax to refuel. But their flights are terrific, lots of room, good meals (with complimentary beer or wine if we wish), and friendly staff. We will get to the Island in the late afternoon, check into our B & B, and settle into Newfoundland life for the next two weeks.



(Now the next day....)Flight down was uneventful, and after a cab ride to the Cantwell House, where we met Mary, and her husband Louie (whi told me in great detail of his knee operation done a month ago, and was having still some obvious problems getting around), and were shown to our spacious and quite nice room. One of the things we have in this house is a third-floor deck which looks out over the harbour, and we happened to be there just as the moon was rising over the water.



We decided to go to the local Sobeys for a take-out supper, bought a bottle of wine, and had supper on the deck under the moon. It was cool, both in temperature and ambience.

After the wear and tear of travel, it was an early bedtime for us both.

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Location:St. John's

Day 19, Train Time

Jane and Steve have been very kind to me. Steve had a speech to do this morning, so was involved with that. But Jane drove me down to the train station, still on Barrington Street. Interesting that there was a cruise ship docked quite near to the station: perhaps toursim will revive old Halifax, and lead to to revival as well of this train that I am riding.



There is a kind of sadness on the train. The number of trips for this line has been cut to three times a week, from five. One quarter of the staff have received lay-off notices and are not expecting to be hired back on. And yet it is beautiful along here. We left the city along the Bedford Basin, through wonderful lake country (water levels are quite high, so there were some unexpected lakes present, as well as some roads under water.

The Shubenachadie River is not normally very large, but today resembled the Mississippi. I'm told that the water has actually gone down a bit around Truro.



As we wound our way through the lakes and swollen rivers, and flooded fields, of this part of Nova Scotia, we eventually got to the marshes around the Bay of Fundy. Many of the streams that ran through here showed the effects of the tides (it appeared to be low tide when we went through, but the muddy banks of the creeks showed the striations of tidal movement).

And there were windmills at the border with New Brunswick—probably ten or more of them.


Than to Amherst, then Sackville, and finally Moncton. I got out and took some ceremonial pictures to act as a completion of the cycle begun seventeen days ago.



And from there, we came to the Eastern Shore of New Brunswick, traveling through Kouchibouguac, then across the Miramichi (which is a larger town than I had thought), and then into the seemingly endless expanses of trees, bogs, lakes, swamps: all of it reminiscent of Northern Ontario.

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Location:Moncton

Time in Halifax

The morning after the night before was a bit subdued: we four had drunk a bottle of bubbly, another bottle of red and a half-litre as well during dinner. So breakfat was a subdued affair, aside from Bruce being the anxious mother hen herding us all towards the car. So we actually left St. Peters about 9:00.

A short detour to go into Antigonish in search of a coffee shop, then back on the road to Truro, where we stopped briefly for ice cream. The rain which threatened in Cape Breton had by now turned into sporadic downpours, with bright periods between them. No sun, but hints of brightness.

We had decided to stop at the airport so Barry could rent a car for the remainder of his and Nancy's time in Nova Scotia, then the remaining three of us went on to drop me off at Steve and Jane's. A fond farewell to Barry, as he left in search of the rental car.

As we approached the main part of Halifax, the fog began, and thickened to a somewhat gruel-like consistency. Going over the MacDonald bridge was an exercise in faith, since we could not see the sides or top of the bridge, and the water below was invisible.

We found our way easily to Fuller Terrace, and, as promised, Steve was ther to meet me. Another farewell to Nancy and Bruce, and the trip was done.

But Steve and I had some lovely time together, talking about the times when we lived as neighbours (now over thirty-five years ago). We walked the 'hood, which is now pretty trendy, stopped for a coffee at the local roaster/café; stopped at a trendy restaurant on Agricola Street; an locally-sourced food store (with fresh local peanuts!); a fancy bakery. But also a former school turned into a community centre. Gus' Grill and the local butcher were still there. It was a treat to see the area being fixed up and reclaimed.



In the evening we went over to a house on the street which was that of friends and neighbours. They were welcoming to me, and we had a great meal and lots of good conversation.



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Location:Halifax

Final Bike Time

Appropriate for what was to be our final day together, this morning we woke to heavy fog from the sea, although the temperature was fairly warm. Should we bike? We had done most of what we wanted, but there was a nice ride along the Mira River which we were tempted by.

Breakfast allowed us to finish off our eggs, blueberries, and some bread (it's a tough life). And Nancy decided that she would not bike, but would visit the downtown of metropolitan Louisbourg. But Barry and I were game, so we set out from the cabin, going up the highway in the fog with our warning lights on and our visibility jackets flapping in the breeze. We turned off this road at Albert Bridge, heading towards Marion Bridge.

That ride was fairly flat, along the widened river, with cottages on the river side, and several boats to boot. An occasional hill to break it up, and we were away.

Marion Bridge, as the song suggests, is quite pretty, albeit smaller than I would have thought (the bridge itself is new and large enough—it's the town I mean).


And the road changes here to a smaller road, still paved, as it headed down to Victoria Bridge. Lots of trees, not many people, and the occasional view of the Mira River.


We knew the paved road ran out at Victoria Bridge, so we had arranged to meet Bruce and Nancy there. And so we did. A final lunch together on an old broken-down wharf, and we were off to our evening's location at St. Peters.

We biked 56 km.

There was a bit of shopping to do, and I had wanted to visit the St. Peters Canal, which is an historic site. Barry joined me and we explored this 800-metre canal with its unique tidal locks (ask me about them). Very interesting: we talked with a young woman who worked there, and she told us they handle over a thousand boats in the season.

Tonight, we are off to the Bras d'Or Inn for a resplendent dinner, then return to Halifax tomorrow.


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Location:St. Peters

Day 16, Louisbourg

Today it rained. Being a fair-weather cyclist, we felt that the best plan was to use the day to visit the Fortress, only about a mile away. And this is what we did.

I guess it was good to see the Fortress in gloomy weather: that's what the people in the eighteenth century dealt with a lot of the time. But it was not as pleasant as it might have been. Fortunately, a lot of the exhibits are indoors. The shop was doing a brisk business in raincoats.


I was reminded of many things in the visit: the disparity in wealth between the poorer (soldiers, for instance), and the richer (the governor and the comptroller); the pleasure of having good plumbing and electricity; the relatively easy life we all lead nowadays.

The miserable day meant that they did not do the planned cannon firing or musket firings. But we got some sense of the life of the soldiers anyways.

Very positive impressions of the gardens, the animals, the bakery and the kitchens with the work they accomplished. Fortress Louisbourg was the fourth major port in North America at the time, and was at the junction of routes to the West Indies, Europe, and interior North America. So they had spices from the Caribbean (cinnamon, garlic, pepper, nutmeg) as well as coffee beans (which they roasted on site), chocolate, sugar (in cones). The richer houses had good furniture, upholstered chairs, nice beds, good fabrics including curtains.


The population of the area was about 6000 in the winter, and double to triple that in the summer. Some people would go back and forth, daunting when you consider with was a six-week voyage!

After a busy morning looking around some of the major buildings, we stopped for lunch in the Hôtel de la Marine, which would have been a tavern in those days. They served us what they would have had then: pea soup or vegetable soup, lightly breaded haddock with turnip and carrots, and hot rum. It was great, and all eaten with a spoon (the only implement that would have been available then). We had pretty well been worn out by then (undoubtedly helped by the rum), so returned to our cabin for an afternoon snooze and a read before supper.

It was a lazy day, but one not without its charms. No cycling was done.


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Location:Louisbourg

Day 15, Bras d'Or lake

Today we peddled almost seventy km. We had wanted to peddle the east side of the lake, from St. Peters towards Sydney Forks. Being in Louisbourg, we then drove up to the Mira River and along it to Marion Bridge, and overland towards St. Peters.
But I have forgotten the early morning bit of drama. We had had our breakfast, but Bruce decided to go and check out where the laundromat was (where we were staying had laundry machines, but charged $7.25 per load!). He found it okay, attached to Peck's Housekeeping Cottages. And he found they had a similar cottage to the one we had, for forty dollars less per night. So Bruce and I went down and talked with the lady of Midtown, and asked for some money back since I had already paid for two nights. She reluctantly agreed, and we quickly packed up and moved the two hundred yards down the street. Phew! A nice place, and the savings to pay for a meal out.
Our drive up the Mira was very pleasant, and quite beautiful. Marion Bridge was as good as the song suggests, from what we could see on the way by. After that, the trip went across country, and was not as interesting.
So we got on our bikes, went the rest of the way to Highway 4, then turned north towards Sydney. It was a hilly and windy ride, but was a beautiful scenic way to go. Some photos:








After a few hours, we stopped for a lunch at Ben Eoin (not as pretty as its name), and then tackled a few more hills before calling it a day.
Now we're back in Louisbourg. We had a wonderful halibut steak supper, cooked in our cottage by Bruce. Nancy did some laundry, so we're good for the rest of the trip. Tomorrow looks like a rainy day, so we'll probably visit the Fortress for much of the day.

Distance about seventy km.
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Location:Louisbourg

The Miners' Museum

I thought that the Miners' Museum was significant enough to get its own blog entry. It was really quite moving, and a poignant reminder of the past and its difficulties.

Our guide was named Abbie Michalik. He us now almost eighty, and as I mentioned in the previous post, was born into a family which eventually had ten children. The house they lived in was built with wood gathered from the mining company, from old de-commissioned outhouses. There was no foundation or basement, so the wind went right underneath the house. Windows were single-paned, and leaked. The roof also leaked. The walls were not insulated. Children slept in two beds, one for the girls, and one for the boys. Abbie said that in the winter, they couldn't afford blankets, so they just piled their coats on top of the beds. And in the morning, there might be snow on top of the coats. To help them keep warm, his mother would heat bricks in the stove, and send them upstairs with a brick for their feet to be warm.

Abbie went into the mines at an early age, getting out of school after Grade 10. He talked about going down into the dark mine in an open cart, tied with a rope to pull it back out of the mine, and also to slow it down. But the company did not check the ropes often, and would only replace it after it actually broke. One day, the rope broke on the way down into the mine. His dad told him to jump, which he did, and he was safe. His cousin, who was also in the cart, jumped, but went under the wheels of the cart and was killed.

The mine face he went to was about eight miles out under the sea. It took about ninety minutes to get there (time they were not paid for). Once they got there, the job of the young boys was to stay at one of the section doors to make sure they stayed closed, so the air would circulate properly. There were of course rats down there, but his father told him not to kill the rats, since they acted often as early warnings if there were a methane gas build-up (if the rats ran ahead of you, you were safe; if they ran away, you should too). And the rats cleaned up after your meal and after the washroom breaks.

As he got older, Abbie was able to work on getting the coal into the carts. Each cart held over a ton of coal, and you made all of seventy cents for it, if it made it to the surface. If it dumped, you made nothing. And if your tag fell off the cart (or someone replaced it with their's) you didn't get paid.
During Abbie's time in the mine, he survived an explosion, a cave-in, an accident with the cart. He lost relatives and friends to accidents. And he witnessed many changes in the ownership and management of the mines. He was unionized through the United Mine Workers, an American union. He had seen his father who went through the incredible struggles of the 1910's and 1920's, when they were trying to unionize.

The mine that we went into was not big. It began at the Museum at over six feet high, but by the time we were in the main walkways, it was down to about four and one-half feet. It was cool, and damp with water on the ground. And it was dark (he turned the light out briefly to impress us). And at one place, we stopped and sat down around a garden under lights. Abbie talked about one German miner who asked the bosses for permission to start a garden in the mine. The company said okay, but he had to provide the boards, and the soil (his fellow miners helped bring it in). He succeeded in growing veggies in the dark of the mine, with the lights as we saw.

He was proud of the work he had done. He continues to work at the Museum because he feels it is important to pass on these lessons, and to encourage young people to stay in school. He remembers the times he has lived through, and is grateful for what he now has.

As mentioned, it was a truly impressive visit.
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Location:Louisbourg

Day 14, Over East

No pictures today: we just biked and visited the Miner's Museum. I never got my camera out.
After a brief stop in Baddeck for a coffee, we piled into the car, and went back to Iona for the start of the day. And the weather again was terrific, with two small clouds in a blue sky, and with winds being light. And the road was pretty good, only a few moderate hills and largely straight. So we made good time.
At least until lunch, which we had at a little picnic spot near the town of Barachois.
Nancy decided that she was too tired to bike that afternoon, and we packed her bike onto the car. Barry an I took off down a good-sized hill, thinking this was going to be a good ride to our meeting place. But then the other part of the hill was there: a two km climb at a good incline wore us out. And once at the top, there was a rock quarry, with a steady stream of trucks coming and going. Fortunately, we were only going a short distance, about eleven km.
Overall, about 46 km.
But the highlight was a visit to the Miner's Museum in Glace Bay. It has developed quite a bit since we were last there—and it is still owned and operated by the miners themselves.
We were led on a tour of an actual "incline" mine by a man who had mined for over forty years, and had led these tours for the past nineteen years. He was full of stories about the hard work in the fifties (he began working at fourteen), and his life living in dire poverty at home. His house was without a foundation, built from recycled wood from old outhouses, no insulation, windows and roof that leaked, and one source of heat, in the kitchen. And ten children in the family. It was a moving story of hardship and struggle. Speaking of struggle, there was a movie outlining the struggle to unionize against the coal barons, culminating in the death of a miner at the hands of the police, on June 11, 1925. To this day miners will not work on that day. They finally got their union (even though it did not fully support their efforts), and after 25 years, their wages rose to pre-WW1 levels again! And we think we have it hard.
We didn't bike after that. Supper was out at a restaurant. I had my one lobster dinner, and enjoyed.
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Location:Louisbourg

Day 13, to Iona

We had discovered yesterday that Baddeck was in fact a fairly upscale town, and had three (!) coffee shops. So today we had to go into town and try them out. Had our caffeine at "Bean There", then returned to the cabin, got ready and set off.
One of the nice things about the cabin we have rented is that it is up a mountain, so the first kilometer or so was all downhill (I got up to 54 kph). And then we turned onto the Trans-Canada. But here it is not too busy, and there is a good paved shoulder. So we did fine (the noise of the cars and truck was a nuisance, though).
Finally turned off that road and headed towards the ferry crossing at Little Narrows. This is a cable ferry, about two hundred metres distance travelled. And the woman taking the ticket had a real Cape Breton lilt....




Then we were off onto Highway 223, which had us a bit spooked, since this was the only place in the proscribed itinerary that was described a being hilly. And we had already done some serious hills, so if this was even worse, we were, well, worried. But all for nought. There were biggish hills, but nothing worse than we had already successfully negotiated. And some of the scenery was definitely worth the trip.




Finally, we were in Iona. Bruce was there a bit before us, and motioned us into the Highland Village Museum. Since most if the museums and attractions we had tried to visit were closed now, it was a joy just to find one open. And the Museum itself was a real pleasure: a living history of the Scottish Gaels who came from the Highland of Scotland for a better life. They got this in Cape Breton, with fishing, farming, and forestry. Many of them lived quite well, and in particular, they owned their own land and were masters in their own houses. The immigration was from the mid-1700's to about 1840.




After this trip, we went and had a late lunch, looking over the water at a hill being mined for its lime or marble.




And then we were home. After a walk in the woods around the cottage, Bruce cooked us a wonderful meal of poached salmon with a white sauce. Yum.

Distance today probably 55km.
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Location:Washabuck Rd,Upper Washabuck,Canada

Day 12, moving on to Baddeck

We had thought about biking today if it was not rainy, and going to a museum if it did rain. In the end, we did both.
When we woke, it had rained through the night, but was not raining actively. After breakfast (Bruce cooked us eggs), we decided to start a ride, but start it from Dundee. And we did this. Bruce dropped us off near Dundee, and we began to ride.
As we started, on a good road with little traffic, the only thing we were worried about was the possibility of rain. The route was along the lake, and was quite pretty. There were hills, as one would expect, but they were manageable. And then the wind started. It was from the side and from the front, and it made it as hard as if the sloped were 3 degrees higher going up and three degrees lower going down. It was tiring, more so than the simple mileage would suggest.

And then there was the section that was gravel. mostly, this was not too bad, but some of it was washboards in its surface. Perhaps okay with a car, but just difficult with a bike. The last part of the gravel road we were on was downhill and very washboard, and we were all frightened of losing control on the road.

But we made it. And went on to Orangedale, where Bruce met us for lunch. All of us were cold enough that we packed it in at that point. Bruce had found a nice cottage for us in Hunter Mountain, near Baddeck. We settled in, and Barry, Bruce and I headed out to Baddeck for a visit to the Bell Museum.

Alexander Graham Bell was a fine mind, and worked on lots of interesting things. he found a way to transmit sound/voice over light waves. He worked on hydrofoils. he performed the first powered flight in the British Empire. And all this on top of the telephone.

Back to the cabin, a short sleep by yours truly, and then a fine supper. Life is good.


Overall, biked maybe seventy km.

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Location:Maccuish Rd,River Denys,Canada

Day 11, Isle Madame

Today was supposed to be sunny, with tomorrow being rainy. So we decided to do a good ride today. We were headed for Isle Madame, down the highway from St. Peter's, and then along the Route Fleur-de-Lis to Arachat, stopping for a snack along the way.

When we couldn't find much open in Arachat, we made a decision to spend most of the day exploring this island (which looked quite interesting).

So after a quick discussion, we headed for Isle Janvrin, which is at the end of an archipelago going out from Isle Madame.

The going was again up and down, but the road was not bad. The area was settled, but pretty isolated, and the community seemed to be dying. We ate our lunch behind e Community Centre, at some picnic tables in front of a stage set up (as my wife discovered on the internet) for the yearly festival that is held there.

We had done about 60 km, and I at least wanted to do some more. We decided to bike along the eastern shore of the island, where there was a paved road around the end of the island. At first, at my suggestion, we took a dead-end road, and had to turn around. A very nice gentleman gave us good directions, and we were back on our way.

Another note: I am amazed at the number of apple trees along the roads. They are everywhere! Different kinds likely, since they are different colourings and different sizes. How they got there? Along the Confederation Trail in PEI, there were apple trees apparently there from people throwing apple cores out their windows. And apples were prized, because they keep well, have a sweetness to them, and grow easily in the climate.

We had a good ride around by Rocky Harbour (which was settled by Irish), and then back towards the causeway leading to the mainland. Bruce met us and we drove the rest of the way. Overall we had biked over 86 km. Pretty good.

Supper was in the cabin, fresh corn, a nice salad, and a rotisserie chicken from the local Foodland store.


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Location:St. Peters, Cape Breton

Day 9 and 10, now in Cape Breton

Yesterday, we finished our tour of PEI and arrived on the mainland, at our old friends' Steve and Jane Hart's.

First, we went to Murray River, and then to Murray Harbour, where we stopped at Brehaut's Restaurant and had the best seafood chowder. I arrived before the bikers, and talked with an older women who had lived in Southern Ontario before moving back to PEI and a woman who was biking from Halifax, and who declared quite loudly that she was "not in the mood" for talking.

While Barry and Nancy biked, I took the car and went out to Cape Bear (where the signal from the Titanic was received), and did a little tour of the place, along the clay road. Some pictures were taken.



Then along the road towards the ferry, stopping at Rossignol winery, where PEI entered into the world of wine-making a few years ago. After a bit of wine tasting (they make better fruit wine than grape wine), we headed off to the ferry at Wood Islands. We were in time to catch an early ferry, and so made it to the Nova Scotia shore not long after four o'clock. There followed a mis-directed (by me) trip to Pictou to look for a new mirror for Nancy's bike, and then the journey over to the Hart cottage.

It was wonderful to see them again. Their cottage is terrific, well-suited to having many guests.


And the conversation was lively, friendly, and long. Many connections were made with the struggles of community, province and nation between the Nova Scotia, Ontario, and British Columbia contingents. We had a terrific evening overall.

I was up through the night, and spent some time marveling at the stars out my window. And the coyotes howling in the night.

The temptation was whether to stay the while of Friday in Pictou or move to Cape Breton. Barry was up early to go and fetch Bruce in Moncton, then I got up about 7:30 and went down stairs to read and do the crossword that Jane had left out. Eventually, the others got up, we had some breakfast, Nancy started some laundry (honestly, she said she enjoyed and wanted to do it!), and I started to look at places to stay in Cape Breton. After this tiring exercise, we walked down to the beach, and along the waterline, than returned to the cottage. Steve gave me a tour of the cottage land, a wonderful 23-acre site with old apple trees and cherries as well as transplanted and growing oak, chestnut and evergreen trees.

(And this is not even counting the large and well-maintained series of vegetable and flower gardens that Jane — mostly — maintains. There were onions, carrots, tomatoes, leeks, chives, basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano, parsley, green onions, squash, asparagus, lettuce; then sunflowers, cosmos, daffodils. In all pretty impressive.)

In the end, we decided to head off after linch and get to Cape Breton. We are staying at Joyce's Motel and Cottages in St Peter's. The drive here was uneventful, with a shopping stop in Port Hawkesbury and a good supper of halibut steaks, beans and salad.


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Location:St. Peters, Cape Breton

Day 8, to Montague

Barry and I were doing the biking today, and we had arranged to have lunch with an old friend, John DeMarsh. He is a GP who went through McMaster just after me, and about the time Barry and Nancy did. He has been in practice in PEI for about thirty years, and we thought we would look him up. This turned out to be a bit difficult, but there was a John DeMarch who was an osteopath, so we tried that, and also through the Medical Society. We found him, and he suggested we meet at Mount Stewart, just off our chosen path (and after passing through Mermaid — who comes up with these names?).
So Barry and I wound our way to Pesquid and then to Mount Stewart. We were early, so went into the local museum, which was actually quite interesting. Among other things they had was a birch bark canoe of Micmaq design, donated by Kirk Wipper, my old camp director!
Lunch was long, and interesting to catch up with someone we have not seen for so many years. We may see him again.
We left the town via the Confederation trail, following it for some ten km or so, before getting back on the road/highway. Te road is smoother, but of course there are the cars. And the trail is an old railway line, so is fairly gentle in inclination, while the road had some serious hills.
Passed some salt marshes, and I took some pictures of that.




And some cows in the fields, looking for all the world like they were in a Timmie's drive-through.




Eventually, we reached Montague, where Nancy had procured a wonderful cottage overlooking the water. It is truly idyllic, and a very nice cottage to boot. Supper was cooked on site, having been bought in the local store. And good it was.




Tomorrow we leave the Island by ferry, and will be staying with my old friends Steve and Jane Hart, from our days of living in Halifax. And then to Cape Breton.
We biked about 70 km.
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Location:Montague, PEI

Day 7, back in Charlottetown

It was Barry's turn to drive, so Nancy and I suited up and set out, going along Highway 10 through many small towns: Augustine Cove, Tryon, Victoria, Hampton, Canoe Cove, and on to Cornwall. The day was great, not too cool or hot, but sunny. However, the wind was pretty tough when it was against you, as it was at times.
We stopped in Victoria, a lovely little town with more cultural affairs than its size would suggest.




There was a chocolatier, where we stopped for coffee and a bit of chocolate. But also a theatre, a cafe, an art gallery, and a tea room. And by chance, Barry showed up as well, so it was a good call.
And there was a wonderful, but elderly, Newfoundland dog there. Needless to say, I was very satisfied. Then we set off along the coast. Wind with us at times, against us at times, beside us at times. A challenge most of the time.
In the end, we biked about 62 km and then had lunch with Barry near Cornwall. The we put the bikes on the car, and settled into this B & B, call Tea Hill. We will head into Charlottetown for the afternoon and evening.
Barry had found us a very pleasant B & B run by an eighty-something woman named Jean, in a place called Tea Hill. We installed ourselves there, and then went into Charlottetown for the evening. This is an interesting town: it has a population of only 60,000, but has a very good commercial and cultural life, as far as we could tell. We ended up having supper at the Confederation Centre, after a beer at a local pub, then went home to an early bed.
One of the surprises we have found is that, although seafood is plentiful, there are not very many good restaurants which do the seafood in special ways. That's kind of disappointing. But we have had our clams and lobster and mussels. So life is pretty good that way.
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Location:Stratford

Day 6, North Cape

As predicted, this morning was begun in the rain. Not heavy, but steady. Barry and Nancy slept in, and we had a later breakfast than usual.

Of course, one of the pleasures of being in B & B's is meeting the other guests. And one of the other people we met that morning was the reincarnation of Darlene's aunt Jean. She arrived for breakfast in her house dress, looking as if she had spent a lifetime smoking and drinking. She told us she was from Virginia and was in PEI doing the trip she and her now-dead husband had always wanted to do. And of course, she had to rush out after breakfast for her smokes.

We decided that we were now going to be about two days behind, so we would drive the route of our bike trip, as if we had biked it, and stop to look at the sights and sites along the way. And we would go all the way to North Cape, an area where there is now a wind far developed experimentally through the federal and provincial governments. We were all interested in seeing that.
First, we stopped at Samuel's coffee shop for a quick jolt, and then we were off to the west.
Along the way, we went through Mont-Carmel, stopping to admire its cathedral, a large structure built of brick in 1898, and right on the ocean. It had a large graveyard beside it, very neat and well-maintained. Unfortunately, the church was locked so we couldn't see the inside.
On we went to Cap-Egmont, where we stopped to see the "Bottle Houses". These are three structures, including a small chapel, built in the 70's and 80's by a retired carpenter entirely out of something like 20,000 bottles. He had set them in mortar, but in patterns which were quite something to see. And of course the light in the buildings was very special. I don't think anyone actually lived in any of them, but it was interesting to see what could be done. The picture is of one of the bottle sculptures he had done.




After that, up the main highway to Tignish, then to the North Cape to see the windmills, and read about the use of wind. It was actually fascinating to learn about these structures and what they are now able to do. They have a very good exhibit, and one which puts the Harper agenda on climate change to shame. Then another stop in Tignish to buy some clams for steaming, and a bottle of wine for supper.
After that, it was back down the island to Borden-Carleton where we have housekeeping unit at the Carleton Motel, just off the main highway. A bit noisy, but nice enough, and the price was right.
Tomorrow, at this point, looks good for cycling. Good thing we're not in Cape Breton today, since they are expecting over one hundred mm of rain!
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Location:Borden-Carleton

Day 5, Summerside

So today was a non-ride day. The wind blew like crazy overnight, whistling through my open window and cooling down the room. And the call was for something like 30 mm of rain today. During breakfast, it began to rain, then there was a large parch of blue sky, then it rained and blew again. And the wind would have been in our faces. So a hasty colloquy was held and we all got in the car. On to Summerside! Hurricane Leslie be damned.

A brief stop at a large church on the way, in the middle of nowhere, and now a cultural centre.


Then to the city. But we were plagued by the same malady: after Labour Day, many things are closed. Including the Visitor's Centre, which proclaims itself to be open 9-7, seven days a week! And the liquor store, which was sorely needed.

But all was forgiven when we found a good coffee shop with an intact Globe and Mail in its rack. We had some caffeine, then set out to find a motel. We don't recommend the Mulberry Motel, which sounds good, but has the odour of rotting mulberries, and offers to give you a room without taxes if you pay under the table. But the Willowgreen Farm B & B is just fine, as long as you ignore the Christian messages liberally spread about.

We will have some more seafood tonight, and try again tomorrow, but the forecast is not hopeful. Lots of rain, and little sun.


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Location:Summerside, PEI

Day 4, to Malpeque

I lost the toss, so I was the driver today. Barry and Nancy were biking, and I took the car to do some shopping, get gas, and generally be the support vehicle. Most of the morning was taken with driving and biking the Cavendish portion of Prince Edward Island National Park. Some spectacular views of the cliffs, the ocean, and the sand dunes.








We had agreed, and did, meet at Cavendish Beach, about noon. By this time, it was sunny and getting warm, so we had a picnic lunch then biked around the dunes and down to the beach. Barry and Nancy then took off and I went down to the sandy part of the beach, went into the water up to my knees (it was pretty cold). Then got back into the car and drove on.
Stopped at French River, a wonderful little fishing village, and took some pictures. (I'll get them into these posts as soon as I can.)




Then on with stops by me at New London, with its older Victorian homes, and the memories of L.M. Montgomery (she was born there) and Seaview. The place we were to stay was at Malpeque, but I wasn't sure exactly where, so was happy to get a bit ahead and find it for the others.
After finding and settling into the cottage, I hopped on the bike and went back to try and meet up with Barry and Nancy. I found Barry, who was riding by himself about five km. away from the cottage. He said that Nancy was ahead of him, but I had no passed her. So she must have taken a wrong turn, and we were not sure exactly what to do. We decided the best thing was for the two of us to go to the cottage and get the car, then go and look for her. So we did, and were surprised to find Nancy already there. She had in fact taken a wrong turn, but had been able to correct it. And the timing was good enough to miss me completely.
Supper tonight was back in New London, since most of the restaurants close after Labour Day. But the drive was worth it: an excellent supper with Malpeque oysters and a seafood casserole that was extraordinary.
My bikers travelled over eighty kms. today so they have headed to bed at 9:00, but I am still awake to read. I biked about ten km.
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Location:Malpeque

Day 3, out of Charlottetown

We were slow to get going this morning, after a very nice breakfast at the B & B. took off back down Queen Street to have a visit with MacQueen's in town. To our good fortune, Danny was there, and greeted us like old friends. He introduced us to his father and the other workers in his office. Then showed us around the quite ample bike store they have in town. And pumped our tires for us.
Pictures were taken, good-byes given, and we were off,




first to the Confederation Trail, and along that for several kilometres until we left it and travelled along secondary roads to Tracadie, where we were to have lunch by the wharf. Rain came off and on, in spite of the forecast. Jackets were taken off because we were warm, then replaced because of the rain.
Unfortunately, the place suggested in our guide had closed some years ago, so that was not going to work. But a very nice young man in a pickup stopped and suggested a restaurant further down the road, in the National Park at Covehead Bay. Again, this place was closed. So we sat outside and ate a bought lunch, no seafood. We resolved to get seafood for supper.
We rode our bikes (Nancy drove) to the end of Robinsons Island, getting to finally put our fingers at least in the ocean. It was warm, even though the air was cool.




Then a short ride down to Brackley Beach, where we are staying at a quite pleasant cottage area. Supper at "Fisherman'so Wharf", a lobster place in North Rustico which is all-you-can-eat and advertises a "40-foot salad bar" as one of the highlights. I had scallops, which were fair only.
We also found a terrific General Store in Rustico, and stocked up. I am the driver tomorrow, so that will help me as well.
It's early, but I think it will be an early evening.
Another note: everyone here is so polite and helpful. When you are on a bike, and show any intention of crossing a street, the traffic stops and waits for you. If you look the least bit lost, people will stop and help with directions. It's great to see and novel to experience.

Mileage today about 49 km.
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Location:Brackley Beach, PEI

Day 2, to Moncton and Charlottetown

Woke at seven after a very good sleep, in Campbellton, looking over the Baie des Chaleurs. Still a gritty town, but nice to see it again. Breakfast with another American, this time a woman from Florida doing a quick ride out East by train.
Than back to my room to watch the miles of woods go by. And some very impressive rivers, like the Miramichi. Soon we'll be in Moncton, and meet up with Barry and Nancy as well as their friend Bruce.
(posted later) The bike made it to Moncton intact! Phew! So we met up and drove through to Shediac initially, then on over the Confederation Bridge



to PEI, stopping at the Island side to get some info, before heading off to Charlottetown. Weather was off and on showers, which was not encouraging, but then stopped and some blue sky appeared in a small amount.
We are staying at a bed and breakfast a ways out of the downtown, and walked to a restaurant called "Papa Jo's" where we had wonderful food. Now to bed. We ride tomorrow.
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Location:Miramichi

Down East, Day One

This is the start of my two-week plus bike trip in the Maritimes. And the first part is already exciting: I am taking the train from Toronto to Moncton, where my friends will meet me to begin our cycling trip. And as I write this, we are leaving Montreal aboard "The Ocean", crossing the Victoria Bridge built over a century ago from the little working-class town known as Goose Village, near Point St-Charles, across the wide river to the South Shore. In it's day, a huge and unprecedented task, which claimed many workers' lives. And still a good strong bridge when newer bridges built in the 60's are beginning to crumble.

Even the trip into Toronto was not without drama. I woke a few days ago with a flare of arthritis in one of my ankles, and it had become red and painful, in spite of anti-inflammatories. But it seemed better today when we started. However, it skewed my thinking and I did not fully tie my bike onto the rack on the car, so while driving, I noticed it as it came partly off the rack. A hurried stop on the QEW was in order, and we were off to Union Station for my train. And the ride to Montreal was just fine. Trains are really the right way to go. Lunch served on real plates with real knives and forks, and a glass of wine to boot.

An hour in Gare Centrale in Montreal, then onto the train, bound for Halifax. Winding up the South Shore, past the hills of Drummondville and beyond into the darkness, I joined an itinerant American for supper, a retired athletics prof from a private college in upper New York, who said he was off to walk across Newfoundland. After correcting his pronunciation of Newfoundland, I tried with some success to correct his views of socialized medicine and the value of public funding and taxation. Then to bed.

One final note: one of the staff on the train thought I was Eric Clapton! I was impressed, at least.

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Location:Montreal,Canada