It started off cold and drizzly in the morning. I finished off the rest of my provisions for breakfast. I wondered what the girls planned to do, but it looked like they intended to wait out the rain a little. So I bade them farewell and set off.
Highway 20 was fairly boring and the dreary weather only made it more so. Once I pulled over at a road stop to rest. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I had a vague idea to explore a little more of Quebec but I didn't know what I could see in the rain.
I decided to take the ferry from Lévis direct to the foot of the old Quebec City. The fare collector rattled off the price too quickly for me but fortunately there was a digital display. The cars boarded the ferry broadside, on account of the strong river currents. The ferry crossing was noisy but this did nothing to diminish the eerieness of seeing the St. Lawrence shrouded in mist. It only took a quarter of an hour to get over to the other side. I finished exploring the boat in that time and also managed to take a few pictures of the old city looming up in the mist.
Once on land I was lost for ideas again. I didn't want to see the old city, I had enough of that. Maybe some of the older quarters. Let's see, there was this recommended drive in the tourist handbook. This drive took me along the north bank of the St. Lawrence. The old houses are inclined so as to catch as much as possible of the weak sun of the latitude. The drive was slow partly because of the narrow streets but also because of the traffic lights and stop signs. Upon reaching the Basilique Sainte Anne-de-Beaupré I turned back. It was like a piece of provincial France in North America.
There were the Montmorency Falls. The water goes over the edge of a cliff into the St. Lawrence. There were very few people around. End of season and inclement weather.
I decided not to stay in Quebec City for the night. Montreal was within striking distance. Why not drop in on M a day ahead of time? If that didn't work out there was always a hostel in Sherbrooke. Anyway I was bored and that decided it.
Once again I crossed the Pont Pierre Laporte, but this time in thick mist. It was a little scary, not being able to see more than 100 metres ahead. The outlines of the pylons were visible through the fog and faintly below, the broad river, but there was no time to gawk or sightsee. Vehicles had their headlights on and I had to watch on the red tail lights of the car in front carefully. I felt relieved to reach the other bank.
I had no idea where M's place was. I figured I'd get into the city, park somewhere and call her up. From the lobby of a hotel, I reached her. It turned out she was having guests that night, the German girl M, and S. So we could make a foursome for dinner. The directions she gave were quite good but I had to make one correction. I got there quite easily. But Montreal drivers, phew!
The German girl was making souvlaki for dinner. I offered to contribute dessert. So I went down to the corner shop and bought some peaches for crepes. Dinner conversation was quite animated. S had just had an offer to study Medical Illustration in Toronto and had to move soon. So all her plans were tentative.
It was not so far to Halifax. How to kill the time until 5 in the afternoon? I decided on a slow drive along the south coast. There is this Marine Drive that goes south to the coast and then west to Halifax.
Unfortunately I didn't notice that there was a ferry along the way. This turned out to be a ferry pulled by a cable running from bank to bank. The fee was only a measly 50 cents, but they ran only every half hour.
I was near the head of the boat. It was a slow day. A hearse drove on. Interesting to be sharing a ferry with a loaded hearse. The crossing only took five minutes, but upon reaching the other shore, the hearse was in no hurry to drive off. Well, its other occupant was in no hurry I'm sure.
There is much beautiful coastal scenery here—coves, inlets and little nooks that you would expect from a highly indented coastline.
I stopped at a seafood restaurant for lunch. I missed having lobster in PEI because I didn't have anybody to go with. I felt like I deserved some seafood. This place got good marks in somebody's travel guide. I ordered a lobster chowder and finished up with pastry. Lunch was delicious.
Halifax
was larger than I expected. Did you have visions of a smelly fishing
town? Halifax was a modern city, complete with skyscrapers. The harbour
reminded me of Hobart. I arrived around evening rush hour but
fortunately didn't have to contend with too much traffic. The hostel
seemed to be in a depressed area of town. Well the maritime provinces were economically depressed, but the cracks showed more in the city. Lots
of unemployed hanging around the shelter.
I had an hour to kill so I parked the car in the yard and walked downtown. I found a Radio Shack store and
replaced the old batteries in the camera. Since it was a warm day and I
felt fatigued, I treated myself to a root beer at the A&W. They
didn't seem to make those foot long hot dogs anymore. Pity. Every fast food
chain seemed to have gone for burgers in some form, or chicken nuggets.
When I checked in the house parent asked me if I came by car. She gave me a
$2 rebate so that I could park at the covered garage downtown, 10 minutes
walk away. I explored a little of downtown before walking back. The old town was interesting, but as luck would have it, I didn't have my camera with me. For tomorrow then. Trust Murphy to give me good scenery when I was not prepared.
P and J from PEI were at the hostel too. They were at Seal Island but didn't like the unheated facility and went to a motel. I didn't have much food except the haddock filet which by this time was smelly. I decided to drown the fish in chicken soup. There was a good collection of free food in the kitchen and I had bread and butter as well. I was very tempted, back there in town, to go for the $1.50 dinner advertised outside a pub.
I suggested going out for a beer. They were a little concerned about the safety of the area, but by American standards, the area was benign. I was tired and gave up the idea, so we three ended up playing ping-pong in the hostel. There was a laundry in the basement but lots of people were in line and everytime I came back to check, somebody had gone ahead of me. I got my stuff washed and dried by midnight. There was a shower in the basement too, so I used that to avoid making noise upstairs.
The daylight gave a good view of the bridge where I crossed from Quebec Province. The morning was shivering cold. Fortunately the hostel was heated. Crystal clear blue skies. I decided to drive southwards along the coast to Cape Tormentine, where a ferry crossed the 14 km to Borden, Prince Edward Island. (Note from the future: The ferry was replaced by Confederation Bridge in 1997.) The day warmed up gently and I was in good spirits. I didn't even mind waiting 10 minutes for railcars to clear a crossing.
At a farm stand I picked up a few ears of ble d'inde (corn) and a jar of strawberry jam. At a rest stop I decided to find out how tasty fresh corn was. Fired up the propane stove and boiled them on the spot. No salt, no nothing. They were the most delicious corn I had for a while.
The guide books warned about the long queues for the PEI ferry in peak season. That day there was no problem. It must have close to the end of the season.
I arrived at the PEI hostel close to 7 pm. It was a large green barn near the UPEI campus. PEI is Canada's smallest province. The Confederation had its roots here but ironically PEI was a late joiner. When they stick This Week on PEI on your windscreen while you wait for the ferry, you know this is a tourist spot. Fortunately, Canada is so spacious that you can always avoid the tourists and pretend you aren't part of the problem.
The PEI hostel was unremarkable, but the characters I met were most memorable. An Aussie couple, M and M, were looking for someone to share a ride with around the island tomorrow. I offered to drive them and split fuel costs. They had come from Bar Harbor, Maine (Bear Hebber, as the natives called it, they said). They would be going back to Boston and other destinations in the States before returning to WA.
S was a student from Glasgow who would begin studies at UPEI come fall and was staying at the hostel until the dorm became ready. B was a salty old coot from Canso, Nova Scotia who seemed to like drifting around. P and J were social studies students from Ottawa on a fling before term started. I met them again in Halifax later. M, a German girl, was feeling somewhat homesick. M, a French-Canadian girl, lived in Montreal.
