Taking the Slow Roads on Beautiful PEI – Postcards from Canada, 2025

North Cape, Cedar Dunes Provincial Park, Tyne Valley, Malpeque Harbour, Cabot Beach Provincial Park

From my Cedar Dunes campground, near West Point on PEI, I made my way up the coast towards North Cape on the nicely quiet Highway 14. It was a cool, windy, and drizzly morning, but I was happy as I set off, past tall windmills,

and lovely sections of forest decorated with swaths of bright pink fireweed.

The sea was on my left, with farmhouses and fields between the road and the shore, and I liked when the road dipped down small hills to cross over slow lazy rivers.

By the time I reached Miminegash harbour the sky had mostly cleared and the wind had strengthened. All was calm in the inner harbour,

but at the narrow passage leading into the harbour, the wind was pushing tall rolling waves of sediment-filled water between the high metal walls of the channel.

This was the exciting view, to the north, of windswept waves rising onto a long sandy beach that was backed by low dunes.

I continued north along the coast and made another stop to view the tall dunes and beach at the community of Skinners Pond. Sadly, I didn’t remember until later in the day that the Stompin’ Tom Centre is located in Skinners Pond. Stompin’ Tom, a Canadian icon, was a favourite of my dad’s and of all us kids, and I will definitely make a visit there on my next trip to PEI.

I continued the drive and enjoyed it immensely. There was very little traffic and it was easy to pull over for photo stops whenever I wanted. Then, I arrived at North Cape where a forest of wind turbines were turning at speed and the lighthouse had a tall friend.

North Cape is where the reddish-brown waters of the Northumberland Straight meet the blue waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

There is a natural rock reef, the longest in North America, that extends almost two kilometres offshore here, and at low tide one can walk out on it for about 800 metres, but today the tide was high.

There is a Wind Energy Interpretive Centre at the Cape, as well as tourist information, a gift shop, and a restaurant, but the day was too beautiful to spend even a moment inside, so I set out on the Black Marsh Nature trail, a 5.5 km return walk that led along the grassy tops of low red cliffs,

with great views back to the lighthouse, radio tower, and interpretive centre.

I sometimes wish that I worked with video rather than still photography, especially on such a day, as everything was moving! The wind was rippling wildly through the grasses and wildflowers, waves were crashing onto the shore, and the huge blades of the wind turbines were turning with great phwump phwump phwump sounds. It was fabulous!

The trail led away from the cliffs into a small section of forest and right amongst and below several of the tall turbines.

It then led back out to the cliff tops,

and later onto a series of boardwalks over a large expanse of raised peat blog known as the Black Marsh.

There were interpretive panels to help me identify some of the low bog plants that can be found here, including two lovely orchids. Clockwise from the top left are Grass Pink, cloud berry (also known as bake apple), bog cotton, Rose Pogonia, and Pitcher plant.

The trail continued a short distance past the bog to a viewing platform overlooking Elephant Rock, which no longer looks like an elephant after multiple storms have changed its shape. I’m not sure if the cormorants perched on the rock were enjoying the wind and the sea views as much as I was!

It was such a glorious place and I loved the return walk as much as the walk out. I had the entire trail, there and back, all to myself!

After North Cape I checked out the small town of Tignish, and then returned to my campsite at Cedar Dunes for a wonderful late-afternoon swim. Then, after my camp dinner, I returned to the beach as the sun was lowering,

and stayed until the sun set. What a perfect day!

The following morning I had only about 100 kilometres to drive from Cedar Dunes to my next campground at Cabot Beach Provincial Park, and I elected again to make my way there on slow and quiet secondary highways. Highway 12 was wonderful! It crossed the gorgeous Foxley River,

and passed meadows and fields and so many beautiful old farmhouses.

There were also historic wooden churches to admire such as (clockwise from left) the Freeland Presbyterian Church, St. John’s Anglican Church in Ellerslie, and the Bideford United Church.

I also came across the Bideford Parsonage which is a beautifully restored farmhouse from 1878 that has been turned into a museum of rural life on PEI during the late 19th century. Lucy Maud Montgomery lived here in 1894-95 when she taught at the nearby schoolhouse.

Continuing on Highway 12 I came to the great little town of Tyne Valley, and they were having their annual soapbox derby! I was happy to see lots of girls participating, and I thought that all of the young participants were quite brave as they were released from a ramp to speed down a rather steep hill! I admired their creative soapboxes,

and then enjoyed a stroll through the town where there was a bridge over the very pretty Trout River and many beautiful old homes. The Backwoods Burger brewery pub looked to be popular with motorcyclists out for the day, and there was a rather groovy old-fashioned diner in Dillons Convenience and Pizzeria. Another wonderful sight in town was of a beautifully restored 1927 Model T Ford, and its keys were in the ignition! (A reminder that you can click on any photo for a larger view.)

I continued on Highway 12 and loved every second of the drive. I was surprised to come across a large field of bright yellow canola, and plants by the roadside were fun to photograph.

Further down the road I came across St. Patricks Parish Church in Grand River. Built in 1839, this large Catholic Church featured a unique interior with balconies built both at the back of the church, for the choir, and along its sides. The architectural details were somewhat ornate, but the interior felt very serene and open with its lofty space, soft paint colours, and limited decor beyond the beautiful stained glass windows.

When Highway 12 met the much busier Highway 2, I quickly made my way to the pleasant town of Kensington where I spent a happy couple of hours out of the sun in the public library charging my electronics, downloading photos, perusing the “books for sale” shelf, and chatting with the librarian. Then, it was off to my campground at Cabot Beach Provincial Park, with a stop first at Malpeque Harbour where I enjoyed photographing the scenic sheds with their weathered windows and doors.

I got a great campsite, with good privacy and shade, and then headed out right away to Cabot Beach for a late-afternoon swim. A boardwalk led out onto the golden sand of a wide and very beautiful beach with warm shallow water. I had to walk out a long way before I could swim!

After my energizing time in the water, I walked along the sand to the red cliffs at the far western end of the beach,

with great views back.

And then I walked to the far eastern end of the beach where a dad and his son were fishing.

All along the walk there were splendid views out to the sea and across Malpeque Bay which is famous for its oysters.

Back at camp, I decided that it was finally time to have my first (and ultimately the only!) sit-down restaurant dinner of my entire cross-Canada trip. (Dining out is the one place where I don’t greatly enjoy being alone when travelling solo.) The librarian in Kensington had strongly recommended the Ship to Shore Restaurant in nearby Darnley so off I went, imagining that I would splurge on a lobster roll or other seafood dish, but in the end I ordered what she had ordered, a braised beef sandwich topped with pickled vegetables and fries. It was delicious!

The restaurant was relaxed and casual, with an open feel, and large doors opening out onto a deck. I took my time here, enjoyed my meal, and reflected on my day and my journey thus far. I was in PEI (!), with more wonderful travel along slow roads to come. 🙂

New Brunswick’s Fundy Coast – Postcards from Canada, 2025

Irving Nature Centre, Saint John, St. Martins, Fundy Parkway, Fundy National Park, Cape Enrage, Shepody National Wildlife Area, Hopewell Rocks Provincial Park

It is an easy drive of just over an hour from Fredericton to Saint John, but I was soon driving through fog as I got closer to the coast. Before driving into the city I visited the Irving Nature Centre, a 600-acre wooded peninsula and popular park for walking, hiking, and biking. These were my first views of the Bay of Fundy at Saints Rest Beach!

The fog began to lift as I walked several sections of coastal and forest trails to access small coves, a bog, and a boardwalk over a salt marsh where I saw the iconic red silty sediment of the Bay of Fundy.

I then drove to see Saint John’s Martello tower, a National Historic Site, but the entire tower was covered in tarps for restorations, and its famous hilltop view of Saint John’s harbour was completely obscured by fog. I did enjoy the Visitors Centre though, with its excellent film about the history of this military tower which was constructed at the time of the War of 1812.

Saint John is not the prettiest city, and it had a depressed and rather forlorn air on a foggy Sunday morning. It is a working city of factories, oil refineries, and harbour facilities, with its historic centre located around King’s Square and the nearby Prince William Streetscape. These late 19th-century stone and brick buildings were constructed after the Great Fire of 1877 and included banks, hotels, insurance, shipping, and legal offices.

Located nearby and on the riverfront was the Area 506 Waterfront Container Village. Many of its shops and cafes were not yet open when I visited, but that was fine as my eyes were drawn mostly to the workings of the river port facilities, with the shapes of the tall blue cranes ghostly in the fog.

Soon it was time to visit the Reversing Falls where, on an incoming high tide, the Bay of Fundy waters force the St. John River to reverse its flow and this creates rapids and whirlpools through a narrow gorge. There are parks and viewing platforms located at both ends of the bridge which spans the gorge, as well as views from the bridge. I loved watching the cormorants who took turns to fly in, perch on a boulder located in the centre of the falling swirls of water, and then dive into the river, often to return with a silver fish in their beak!

I continued on to St. Martins, less than an hour away, where I would camp for the night. I was here to see the sea caves at St. Martins beach. On the high tide, kayakers paddle along the coast here, and into the caves, but I would wait for the low tide to walk into the caves. I enjoyed visiting the nearby small marina, visitors centre, and two historic covered bridges over the Irish River, and then I checked into my campsite to putter and rest and read a while while I waited for the tide to recede.

In the late afternoon I returned to the beach with a piping hot order of fish and chips purchased from Spinney’s Seafood Restaurant and Market. This restaurant is consistently voted “Best Lobster Roll” in the province, and I was very tempted to order my very first lobster roll there, but I decided to save that pleasure for further down the road, maybe on PEI or in Nova Scotia. I parked my camp chair at the far end of the beach to enjoy my early dinner with views of the sea caves in the distance, and ended up chatting with a Quebecois fellow who had noticed my Toyota camper set up. He had been travelling all over Canada and the U.S. in his VW Eurovan for about 18 months and it was fun to talk together about places seen and places yet to see. Then, I enjoyed my walk across the wide cobbled beach to view and enter the sea caves that are carved deeply into the soft stone of the red sea cliffs.

The following morning I set out early to drive the Fundy Trail Parkway, a 30 km scenic coastal drive high above the Bay of Fundy that features twenty viewpoints, forest and coastal trails, and access to beaches and waterfalls. The morning was foggy again, and I stopped shortly after entering the parkway to wait a while for the fog to lift. I had paid over $20 to drive the parkway and I wanted to see it! I enjoyed the quiet of my foggy perch, took photos of the lovely plants around me, and then lay on my bed for an hour to read – quite happy with the forced rest!

But, I am not the most patient person, so, after that hour of rest I continued on a short distance through the fog to the next viewpoint and hiked down to Melvin Beach where winter storms had created an impressively high bench of layered stones.

I stopped again, just minutes further down the road, to do the short hike to Fuller Falls,

and then continued on to stop at most of the viewpoints. The Parkway dipped down to the Salmon River,

and then rose again to more viewpoints as the receding fog finally revealed the bright blues of the sea and he sky.

I loved driving the Parkway, and was impressed by its visitor facilities, but I also loved the quiet loneliness of the drive on Shepody Road from the East Gate of the Parkway to the border of Fundy National Park – few cars, and easy curves through low forested hills and wetland areas. I was happy that I would be spending three days in one place, camped at the fabulous Fundy National Park with its three campgrounds and multiple trails through upland forests, bog, and coastline. Highlights of my first afternoon in the park were walks on the Caribou interpretive nature trail and to Dickson Falls, and the drive to Wolfe Point to see its red covered bridge and to walk the beach there.

My campsite was in the Headquarters Campground, tucked under tall trees on a bank high above the Upper Salmon River and in walking distance to the town of Alma with its restaurants, shops, cafes, gas and groceries. No dining out for me, but I did indulge twice in a cinnamon bun from Kelly’s Bake Shop that had been recommended to me three times as I crossed Canada! The furthest west recommendation had come from a young woman at a Toyota service centre in Winnipeg. She had spent many summers in the area with her grandparents and said that I, “just have to get a cinnamon bun from Kelly’s”. As I set out on my first morning of explorations in the area, fog again obscured the bay, and the Upper Salmon River at low tide left the fishing boats in Alma’s marina high and dry, and when I returned in the afternoon the fog had mostly cleared and the boats were happily floating again!

My first destination of the day was to see the lighthouse at Cape Enrage. I would visit it three times and each time it would be hiding in thick fog! But the drive there was fabulous, with thick borders of vibrant wildflowers lining the road as I passed salt marshes on one side and fields on that other that were created in the 1700s by Acadian settlers who had diked the salt marshes to create arable land and pastures.

From Cape Enrage, I drove to the Shepody National Wildlife Area to hike the beach out to Mary’s Point which is located on a forested headland at the end of several kilometres of beach walking that is only fully accessible at the low tide. With forest, beach, salt marsh, and freshwater wetlands, the Shepody Wildlife Area is an important ecological reserve for resident, breeding, and migrating waterfowl and shorebirds, including hundreds of thousands of semipalmated sandpipers that congregate here in the late summer. All was quiet though, for me, on this late morning, with just a slight breeze riffling through the dune grasses, and with only a few sets of footprints to show that others had also walked this beach. I love my times in these lonely places, with sea air and long distance views and the meditative repetition of one foot in front of the other.

After my wonderful walk at Mary’s Point, I drove up the coast to the Hopewell Rocks Provincial Park, one of the best places to witness the tidal changes of the Bay of Fundy on the New Brunswick coast. Admission to the park is rather pricey, but it allows park access for two days to better enable viewing of both the high and low tides. I had planned my arrival for a few hours before the high tide in order to have time in the visitor centre and to walk the trails. The Hopewell Rocks are sea stacks, known here as flowerpots, that are carved by the sea from the soft red sandstone cliffs along two kilometres of shoreline at Hopewell Cape. Here is a view down to the flowerpots of Big Cove,

and here are views from the viewing platform down to the flowerpots at Lovers Arch, as well as one view taken from down on the beach as the tide rose inexorably (middle right photo).

All visitors were then required to exit the beach, and it was quite something to see the high tide rise to fully engulf the bases of the flowerpots and splash against the cliffs. The average tidal change here at Hopewell Rocks is between 12-16 metres (40-52 feet), with maximum tides of 16 metres (52-56 feet), while across the bay, at Burntcoat in Nova Scotia, the maximum tides are even higher, with the world’s highest recorded tidal change of 21.6 metres (70.9 feet)! On each tidal cycle, up to 160 billion tons of water flow into and out of the Bay of Fundy!

The next morning I again drove to Hopewell Rocks, this time to walk on the sea floor at low tide. Luckily, there was a free guided walking tour beginning as I arrived and it was was excellent! I learned many new and interesting facts about the Bay of Fundy and the Cape’s geology and history. There were fewer visitors this morning, and it was fun to take a slow and educational walk from one end of the Cape to the other.

The day was fine, and as I left Hopewell Rocks I decided to try again to see the lighthouse at Cape Enrage, and to explore a bit on the way. Google maps showed a lighthouse, the picturesque wooden Anderson Hollow Lighthouse, located in the oddest place in the middle of an estuary, but access was impossible as the road there was closed due to bridge work. Nearby though was the tiny hamlet of Harvey with its historic community hall built in 1884, while across the street was a church of similar vintage, and nearby (and all along this coast) were other fine heritage homes and buildings.

I considered a second visit to the Shepody Wildlife Area and Mary’s Point as I passed, but the sky was bright and I really wanted to tour the lighthouse at Cape Enrage. ( I had driven there a second time, on my return from Hopewell Rocks the previous day, but it was still encased in fog.) Third time lucky, I hoped, but it was not to be. It was a beautiful, pastoral drive, with sun, sun, sun, until I drove up and into a wall of fog just five minutes away from the lighthouse! The woman at the visitors centre told me that there had been bright sun for about an hour that had ended shortly before my arrival, and she had taken some lucky visitors into the lighthouse for a tour. (Tours are not allowed during periods of fog because of the loudness of the foghorn for peoples’ ears.) Oh well! I walked about for various views, and then descended the staircase down to the narrow beach. The cliffs here are composed of Carboniferous sedimentary rocks from 320 million years ago and contain many types of fossils.

On my return to camp in the late afternoon, I considered choosing a short trail to hike, but opted instead to try out the park’s outdoor swimming pool. What a treat! Full, but not too full, of happy kids and families, with a bright sun and sea breeze, it was a great way to end my three day visit at Fundy National Park. The next morning, as I left my campground, I stopped one last time to again photograph the boats at Alma. Morning fog was present again,

but it burned off as I headed inland toward Moncton. There, I stopped at a riverside park and considered waiting for the time of the Tidal Bore event, a wave which travels up the Peticodiac River on an incoming high tide from the Bay of Fundy. But it was already very hot, humid, and busy in Moncton close to noon, and I was anxious to finally see and cross the Confederation Bridge to Prince Edward Island. So, off I went, very very happy with my time in wonderful New Brunswick, and knowing that I would return again later to explore its northern coast.

Taking it Easy in New Brunswick – Postcards from Canada, 2025

Grand Falls, Florence and Hartland Covered Bridges, Kings Landing, Fredericton

I woke on my first morning in New Brunswick with a welcome feeling of ease as I had a short driving day of less than 300 km ahead of me, with plenty to see along the way. My first stop was at Grand Falls, where I walked wonderful trails on both sides of the river to view the powerful falls and deep narrow gorge.

From there I travelled for a distance south on the surprisingly-quiet Trans Canada Highway through low forested hills with pleasing far-distant views. I transitioned to Route 130 which follows closely along the St. John River on its west side, and then crossed to the east side of the river at the pretty town of Florence to visit its historic covered bridge. New Brunswick is home to more than half of Canada’s covered bridges. Once numbering over 1,000 at the turn of the century, there are now around 70 of these heritage structures remaining in the province.

The bridge is open to pedestrians and I enjoyed the walk across, with wonderful views of the St. John River looking both upstream,

and downstream. The St. John River has been designated as a Canadian Heritage River for its natural, cultural, and historic value. It was known to the Maliseet and Mi’kmaq nations as “Wolastoq”, “the good bountiful river”, and it was a vital transportation and communication route that influenced colonial settlement patterns, military campaigns, and the movement of people and goods. It is a wide, tranquil, and really beautiful river!

My next stop was at Hartland to see the longest covered bridge in the world. Built in 1901, with a walkway added in 1945, it is 391 metres long and is a designated National Historic Site.

Cars can still drive through the one lane structure, but I elected to walk across,

and then I returned to the east side of the river to walk downstream until I could just fit the entire structure into my camera’s frame. It took a bit more walking than expected!

I enjoyed the peaceful and scenic drive south on Highway 105 as it paralleled the river and passed small settlements, fields, woodland, and farms with beautiful old farmhouses. I crossed over the river again Southhampton to reach my next destination, the 300-acre living museum known as Kings Landing. This historical village features over 70 buildings that represent rural life in a New Brunswick Loyalist settlement from the years 1795 to 1925.

My first stop after perusing the Welcome Centre exhibits was at the small schoolhouse, and when I entered a costumed group of young campers, all girls, were participating in a lesson. I would later see these campers at the end of the day performing sketches and musical numbers for their parents at the theatre!

There are working farms onsite,

and many farmhouses of various styles with their interiors furnished with period items. Costumed interpreters are ready to give details about each home’s history, and to demonstrate various period crafts, jobs, and tools in and around the home, farm, and barns.

There were a multitude of other buildings to visit, including three churches (Anglican, Methodist, and Presbyterian),

and also a general store, forge, print shop, sash and door factory, sawmill, gristmill, hotel, restaurant, and pub. In each, costumed interpreters are on hand to talk about and demonstrate traditional livelihoods, goods, techniques and machinery.

It was a peaceful and pastoral place to wander. I loved the flowery meadow on a hill above the mill pond,

and then scenic views of the fully-operational gristmill and large sawmill, both of which are powered by waterwheels.

I spent over three hours at Kings Landing, on a beautiful sunny day, with lots to learn about and many beautiful things to see. Just as I was beginning to tire and consider the trek back to my car, campers were gathering in order to put on a show for their parents. The “Visiting Cousins” (9-12 year olds) were at the end of their five day overnight camp experience where they had dressed in period clothing and participated in many activities such as playing traditional games, making crafts (including carving wooden toys), cooking, gardening, animal care, etc. They had also spent time creating small skits that were clever and funny, and they performed these skits, as well as some musical numbers, in front of their proud parents and visitors. Watching their performances, in the cool shaded interior of the theatre, was an unexpected and very wonderful way to end my day at this exceptional living museum!

Afterwards, I had an easy 75 minute drive, again alongside the St. John River on scenic Highway 102, to reach my campsite at Mactaquac Provincial Park which is located only a half hour from Fredericton. I had a restful evening in another green, shaded, and peaceful campground, and then an early night, ready for a city day on the morrow.

Fredericton, the capital of New Brunswick, is a wonderful little city! It was easy to enter the city and make my way to its downtown where I found free street parking on a Saturday! (Priced at only $1.75 per hour, weekdays from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., with Saturday and Sunday free! Take that Vancouver!). I was parked on Queen Street in the Historic Garrison District, and within a block of the Saint John River. I had planned to do a free historical walking tour at 10, but had about an hour to myself before it began, so I set out on a stroll, first up onto the Carleton Street River Lookout and then south along the paved Riverfront Trail.

I passed the New Brunswick Legislative Assembly building,

and visited the Anglican Christ Church Cathedral. Built between 1845-1853 in the Gothic Style, its steeple is almost 200 feet high, and its interior features beautiful stained glass from the 1850s.

There were many large and elegant Victorian-era homes in the leafy neighbourhood around the church, one of which has been converted into a popular art gallery, Gallery 78 (below right). I wish that I had booked two full days to explore and enjoy Fredericton as I would have made time to visit Gallery 78, the Beaverbrook Art Gallery, and the Fredericton Region Museum, all of which I passed on my stroll.

I returned to the Guard House and Soldiers’ Barracks where my walking tour was to begin. The excellent one hour tour was led by two young fellows (below). We walked much of the same route that I had strolled, and there were many interesting facts and stories shared about the history and early settlement of Fredericton. Later in the afternoon, I would have the pleasure of watching a clever and humorous play created by the three talented young tour leaders below. The woman played a soldier interested in a newly-widowed female (in the shawl), but the widow was more interested in first a dashing and forward rogue (fellow with the bottle), and then an officer with a nice big house (same actor), than with a lowly rank and file soldier. The seated audience consisted of only myself, and one of the players’ mother and her friend! But, we more than made up for the lack of a larger audience with our laughter and enthusiastic appreciation of the players and the play.

My walking tour had ended at the very busy and popular Fredericton Boyce Farmers Market where I happily perused the stalls and splurged on some lunch items. I returned to the Guard House area just in time to view the city’s annual Pride Parade – small but cheerful and enthusiastic, it was another unexpected pleasure to be had.

After the parade and the play I spent time in the coolness and quiet of the nearby public library where I did some much-needed trip planning and downloading of photos, and then I finally returned to my car to head to my Airbnb. I didn’t drive far though, before noticing the Bill Thorpe Walking Bridge that crosses the St. John River. I stopped, found parking, accessed the bridge from the riverside trail, and walked the 600 metre length of this former railway bridge that is now used by pedestrians and cyclists. There was a breeze, the sky was blue, there were views upstream of the cathedral’s steeple rising above the trees, and views downstream to where I imaged the river flowing into the Atlantic not too far away! I would be there tomorrow! Cyclists and pedestrians crossing the bridge, mostly locals and some visitors, were noticeably happy, and I was feeling very happy too with my day in the great little city of Fredericton.

Breakdown in Quebec City (Emotional, not Mechanical!) – Postcards from Canada, 2025

Ottawa to Quebec City – 445 km

I left Ottawa on the late side as I had lingered over breakfast and conversation with my host and with the other guests at my B&B. It was a bright sunny day and I was thrilled to drive over the bridge that crosses from Ottawa to Gatineau, Quebec – I was now in my sixth province! I enjoyed the first hour or two of the drive, through some nice rolling forested hills and with occasional views of the Ottawa River, but then I quickly grew tired of the increasing amount of traffic on the main highway so I rerouted to some secondary roads more to the north, but they were also surprisingly busy, and many of the small towns that I passed through (with wonderful names like Sainte-Sophie, Sainte-Esprit, and Joliette) were bookended on their outskirts with traffic lights and the non-too-appealing line of gas stations, box stores, and fast food outlets typical of so many Canadian towns. I wasn’t loving the drive, the afternoon was growing very warm, and as I rejoined the freeways and finally neared Quebec City the traffic began moving really fast and there were multiple on and off ramps to negotiate to get to where I was going which was an Airbnb located in a leafy suburb about 30 minutes from Quebec City’s historic downtown.

The Airbnb was great, with a lovely hostess, and I had booked two nights there with a plan to park my car and take a local bus to visit the city’s historic centre, Vieux Quebec, on the following day. I had visited Quebec City three times before. The first time was when I was 17 years old and had travelled solo to Quebec to visit with relatives and to attend the Roberge family’s Tricentennial Celebration on L’Isle d’Orleans. That visit had sparked my love of travel and history, and I was greatly looking forward to revisiting Vieux Quebec’s charming cobblestone streets, the quaint houses and shops of the Lower Town, and especially Place Royale square with the architecturally simple yet exquisite Notre-Dame-des-Victoires Church which was built in 1688. Here are photos of 17 year-old-me at the Citadelle, and on a Quebec City Street.

But…, I soon found out from my hostess Suzanne that all of the Quebec City buses were on strike! Also, there was a large music festival on in the city, and two cruise ships full of tourists were docked in the harbour which meant that the streets of the old town would be crowded with visitors. The afternoon had grown incredibly hot and humid, which I am not at all used to, and I suddenly felt extremely tired and very dispirited.

I tried to make the best of it – my accommodation was on the lower level of a nice house which had a lovely garden and a swimming pool that I was free to use. I had a relaxing swim, chatted with Suzanne over coffee about travelling in France, made dinner in my suite, rested, then googled driving routes to downtown and where to park, etc. for the following day. Perhaps I didn’t sleep well, because in the morning when I woke I was so tired that the thought of driving a half hour into the centre of the city, and being amongst crowds in the heat and the humidity, was just too much. Also weighing on my mind was the long drive of 580 km on following day to get to my next campsite in New Brunswick so I told Suzanne that I was thinking of abandoning my second night of accommodation and leaving that morning in order to divide the next day’s drive in half. She responded with such kindness and compassion that it was easy to burst into tears and sob in her arms about my fatigue and the heat and the driving and no buses, etc. etc., etc. She encouraged me to stay, and even offered to drive me downtown, but I told her that I would call home and then decide. More sobbing over the phone as I spilled my woes, but with Brent’s patient listening I calmed quickly and decided that I really did need to give up my visit to Vieux Quebec and break up the next day’s travel.

Quebec City to Parc Provincial de la République, New Brunswick – 311 km

I thanked Suzanne, packed up, and headed out, still feeling exhausted. Once on the network of freeways, the driving was immediately challenging and fast, and then it was positively terrifying driving across the bridge over the St. Lawrence because very dark and low thunderclouds had built up quickly and just as I drove onto the bridge they let loose a thick torrent of rain. My windshield wipers couldn’t keep up, and I could barely see anything in front of me or beside me, BUT NO-ONE SLOWED DOWN!!

The rain and heavy traffic continued for another hour or two as I travelled away from Quebec City and towards the border with New Brunswick. I made a short stop at La Pocatiere for a much-needed break and to walk to the edge of the St. Lawrence River, but even that was a bust as the shore was inaccessible. Here are the only two photos that I took on my two days of travel through Quebec!

I rejoined the highway and thankfully the traffic eased once I was past Riviere-du-Loup, and I was finally able to relax a bit for the last hour and a half of the drive. I was thrilled to cross the border into New Brunswick – I was finally in the Maritimes! – and relieved to find a decent campsite a short while later at the peaceful, green and shaded Parc Provincial de la République. I settled into my site and walked off some of my stress on a trail along the river. Then more stress seeped away as I sat at a table near the pool and wrote in my journal, charged my electronics, and did laundry. The teenage workers there were wonderful – friendly, curious, and fluent in both French and English. I chatted with several lads, and with the lovely girl who was working in the gift shop. On her break, she asked to sit with me because she saw me journaling and felt inspired to work on her poetry beside me. We talked for a while (her mother is a published author), and then wrote in silence, side by side, companionably. I felt happy and grateful, and so glad that I had made the decision to break up the long drive into two days. I was also feeling proud and relieved – I had driven across Canada, safely, all the way to the Maritimes! So, here is one of my very favourite photos from my entire trip. A bag of New Brunswick’s famous Covered Bridge potato chips to show that I had arrived!

Thank you, readers, if you made it through all of the above woe-is-me text! Next time, lots of joy and photos from the beautiful province of New Brunswick. (And later, much more positive times in Quebec!) 🙂

Ontario Part II – Ottawa – Postcards from Canada

National Gallery of Canada, Kiweki Point, Canadian Museum of History, Rideau Canal, Tours of the House of Commons and Senate

But first, a note to Readers,

As you know, I wrote very few posts while I was on the road and camping during my cross-Canada trip last summer. The following post continues on from my Ontario Part I post. I’m sorry if the lack of chronology is confusing, and I hope that you can enjoy the coming posts despite the jumping around from here to there!

Fitzroy Provincial Park to Ottawa – 63 km

Even a short distance can seem long when there is a torrential downpour and one is unfamiliar with the roads. Thank goodness for the Google lady who gives me directions over my phone! The rain started at about 3 a.m. in my campsite at Fitzroy Provincial Park and I finally got up at about 7 to discover that my Toyota was in the middle of a small lake, one inch deep, in my grassy campsite. Not for the first time, I felt very very grateful to not be sleeping in a tent! I was also grateful that the first half of the drive into Ottawa was on a quiet secondary road because visibility under the continuous and driving rain was very poor. I had a service appointment at a Toyota dealership, which lasted longer than expected (don’t they always), and then I made my way to my accommodation, the excellent, characterful, and reasonably-priced L’Auberge des Arts Bed and Breakfast, which is located on a quiet residential street within easy walking distance to Ottawa’s major attractions. After meeting my very kind host, I set off to visit the National Gallery of Canada and I spent a happy three hours there, primarily looking at Indigenous and Canadian art. But first, the architecture!

Perhaps my favourite piece of all was an intricate and beautiful carving of a full set of caribou antlers, by Jacoposie Oopakak, 1988-89. (Please do click on any photo to better view the exquisite details of the carvings).

I also loved these two prints by Inuk artists Pudlo Pudlat, “Landscape with Caribou” 1977, and Etidlooie Etidlooie, “Camp Scene with Whales, Fish, and Plants”, 1976.

After having finally experienced the landscape around Lake Superior, I was excited to see works by the Group of Seven. Clockwise from top left are: “Lake Superior”, by Lawren S. Harris, c. 1928, “”Ile du Pic, lac Superieur”, by Lawren S. Harris, 1924, “Birches” by Tom Thomson, 1916, “Stormy Weather, Georgian Bay”, by F.H. Varley, 1921, and “The Pool”, by Tom Thomson, 1915-1919.

These next two paintings made me think of my parents and relatives in Quebec. On the left is “Saint Urbain in Winter”, by Marc-Aurele Fortin, 1940-42, and on the right is “Winter, Quebec”, by A.Y. Jackson, 1926.

I was captivated by each of these beautiful portraits of women. Clockwise from top left are “Vera” by F.H. Valley 1930; “A Meeting of the School Trustees”, by Robert Harris, 1885: “Sister Saint-Alphonse” by Antoine Plamondor, 1841; “Portrait of a Young Woman” by Louis-Leopoldo Boilly, 1800-25; “Mrs. John Beverley Robinson” by George T. Berthon, 1846; and “Girl with Plant”, by Will Ogilvie, 1933.

I also visited the American and European Art galleries, and viewed a good deal of contemporary art. It was a fabulous visit, and a great way to spend my first afternoon in Ottawa. I exited near closing time to find that rain was still falling. Under my umbrella I took a walk to Kiweki Point, a newly-constructed walkway and viewing platform that was lined with native plants and iron sculptures of Canadian animals and their importance, traditional and modern, to the Algonquin Anishinabe. They included the Walleye, which has fed generations, and the Thunderbird, an important spiritual being in Algonquin Anishinabe stories and legends that controls the upper world and creates thunder and lightning with flaps of its wings. There were views to Parliament Hill, and across the Ottawa River to Gatineau, Quebec, and the Canadian Museum of History.

It was a peaceful place, and I returned to my accommodation happy with my first afternoon in Ottawa. I sat on the front porch of my excellent B&B in the relative cool of the evening and had great calls home with my sister Dede, and my brother Serge. It was his birthday!

The following day dawned bright and sunny, but it would grow to be oppressively hot and humid. Luckily, I spent much of my day inside cooled spaces. I woke early and walked across the bridge to Gatineau to visit the National Canadian Museum of History. I enjoyed the walk across the bridge amongst people cycling, jogging, and heading to work. There were views ahead to the museum,

and views back to Parliament Hill.

The museum had interesting architecture,

and the Grand Hall, which showcases Northwest Indigenous cultures with house fronts, poles, and other art and artefacts, was stunning.

Behind the house fronts were many historical artefacts on display including tools, blankets, baskets, masks, and personal and ceremonial objects. I admired the artful designs, both symmetrical and asymmetrical of this wooden screen, Nuu-chah-nulth (from around 1900).

I really liked that there was also a lot of contemporary art and objects, as well as audio and video of indigenous elders, community members, and artists sharing stories and reflections on their lives and works. It was very moving. Clockwise from top left, are: A serigraph, “Creation of the Squamish People”, by Floyd Joseph (1978); a ceremonial shirt, Tlingit (before 1925); a house post, Nuxalk (before 1920); a dance apron, Kwakwaka’wakw (1800s), and a chief’s chest, Tsimshian (before 1918); and finally a very impressive canoe, probably made at Waglisla (Bella Bella) around 1900. It was 16.5 metres long!

I continued to the second floor galleries which featured “Early Canada” and “Colonial Canada”. I took my time in these galleries and took many photos but I will only share a few. For Brent, who is a direct descendant of Leif Erickson, there were Norse objects found at sites in Nunavut, including a carpenter’s plane, wool cloth, and a knife of iron and caribou antler.

There was also a quote taken from the Saga of Erik the Red: “There they found fields of wild wheat…and the vine in all places…Every rivulet there was full of fish…There was great plenty of wild animals of every form in the wood…early one morning, as they looked around, they beheld nine boats made of hides.”

For my side of the family, in the exhibits on the French colonization of Canada, there was a map of L’Isle d’Orleans from 1709,

and a detail shows a plot of land owned by Pierre Roberge, a descendant of a former Pierre Roberge, my ancestor, who emigrated from Normandy to Quebec in 1679 (the plot can be found to the lower left of the “I” in “Isle”.). My mother’s family, Dallaire, emigrated to Quebec’s L’Isle d’Orleans from France even earlier, in 1658!

I next viewed the exhibits in the Modern Canada gallery. Here are just a few items and photos that appealed to me, clockwise from top left: the jersey worn by Maurice “Rocket” Richard (for my dad); Doug and Bob, eh?; Terry Fox; Queen Elizabeth II and Pierre Elliott Trudeau signing the Proclamation of the Constitution Act on April 17, 1982, and a photo from the early 1960s as debate began on the need for a new, distinctly Canadian flag.

After my visit to the museum I walked back over the bridge, from Gatineau to Ottawa. It was now past noon and swelteringly hot and humid!

I made my way down to where the Rideau Canada meets the Ottawa River and walked past its locks and historic buildings,

and then rose up onto Parliament Hill. I felt very excited to be there, as were many others! It was incredibly busy with couples, families, large tour groups, and a few solo travellers like myself taking selfies and group photos – there were Canadians of all cultural backgrounds, and visitors from abroad, and all seemed very happy to be visiting Canada’s capital. Here are the buildings of the Centre Block surrounded by cranes as they undergo structural rehabilitation and renovation (which will take until 2032!).

Here is a photo of the buildings of the East Block,

and here are the buildings of the West Block where the House of Commons is currently housed while the Centre Block is under rehabilitation.

I had booked a free tour of the House of Commons and it was excellent! After passing through security, our guide led us to the viewing areas used by the public and the press,

then we went to the lower level and gained a rare admittance to the floor itself as the Parliamentary Sargent At Arms happened to be on site and invited us in. (Our tour leader was surprised and pleased as she had never been on the floor herself.) The Prime Minister sits in Seat 11 (top right photo), and of course the Speaker of the House sits in the throne-like centre chair (lower right photo).

We next went to view a Committee Room, and this is where I learned new things about our Parliamentary process of creating legislation. Here, select Members of Parliament, along with experts and witnesses, assess and fine-tune legislative bills before they return to the house and then the senate.

I left my tour feeling very proud of our rules-based, highly procedural, and essentially collaborative and cooperative parliamentary process (though debates on the floor can certainly give a different impression). I was also very impressed with our knowledgeable young tour guide and with all of the staff that I encountered – everyone was fluently bilingual and seemed very happy to educate and serve the thousands of visitors who come here. I left the Houses of Parliament for the short walk to where the Senate is currently housed, and en-route I passed the National War Memorial, with two sentries standing guard.

The Senate is now temporarily housed in Ottawa’s Union Station building, a railway station which was completed in 1912 in the Beaux-Arts style with its columns, domes, and arches.

The Senate tour was also excellent, and again I was impressed by what I learned and by our knowledgable and excellent tour guide. I was so glad that I had finally visited our nation’s capital!

After my tour of the Senate Building I wandered for a time along the Rideau Canal,

and then made my way to the Byward Market – a large area filled with farmers’ market stalls, cafes and shops selling specialty foods, art, crafts, and clothing. It was busy with people and for once I enjoyed the hubbub of a happy milling crowd, but not for long! I had read about a casual and inexpensive Jamaican eatery, Island Flava, that was close to my accommodation, and I am so glad that I went there for a plate of their delicious jerk chicken, rice, plantains, and salad. I received a very friendly welcome, and chatted with the chef about road trips and travel in the Maritimes. 🙂

I returned to my B&B, tired but happy, to sit for a while on the front porch again and then spend time downloading photos and working on my blog in my room. I wished that I had booked several more days in Ottawa as there is so much more to see and do, but perhaps I’ll return one day, maybe in winter when I can skate on the Rideau Canal – an iconic way to celebrate Canada! Here are just a few more photos from my brief, but excellent, visit to our nation’s capital.

The Last Leg Homeward – Postcards from Canada, 2025

From Eastend Saskatchewan, across Alberta, and into Beautiful British Columbia

I drove the last leg homeward, over four days, largely on familiar territory. It was a quieter, reflective time, with fewer stops, that was less about seeing new vistas and more about saying hello to old friends (a highway, a town, a campground…). Each day started early, with solid sessions of driving, still mainly on secondary rural roads, and each ended in time for a campground dinner, quiet evening, and early night. My headache was still present each day, and most of me was fixated on getting home, but another part of me was feeling slightly melancholy, and did not want my journey to end.

I said goodbye to Eastend Saskatchewan, and rose up out of the Frenchman River valley and onto another perfectly straight stretch of prairie highway, empty of traffic.

Tractors and harvesting machinery were parked in the fields, ready for the day’s upcoming work,

or resting after the previous day’s work was done.

I turned to the north, from Saskatchewan Highway 13 onto Highway 21, to avoid a long stretch of gravel road travel, and the road took me down into and across a new section of the beautiful Frenchman River valley.

I turned west again, crossed the border into Alberta, and later turned south onto Highway 685. Here, the road swooped down into and across another wide flat-bottomed valley,

with distant views of the 40 Mile Reservoir. These gorgeous valleys stir up strong feelings of wanting to be a land baron!

Highway 685 ended at the tiny town of Etzikom, Alberta, a new place for me. A sign at the edge of town advertised a windmill museum so I thought that I would make a quick stop as I love windmills. All was dead still in this town as I drove down its main street at about midday. The air was heavy, and there was a sense of abandonment and disuse.

I turned down one of the side streets and passed a few tidy houses and parked cars, but there wasn’t a person in sight, including at the town’s Jubilee Park where I just had to stop because the playground equipment was all pretty much identical to the equipment that I had played on as a kid in the late sixties and early seventies in Cumberland’s Kin Park.

There was no one anywhere around – not one kid, nor any moms with toddlers, and not even a passing car. There was just this empty and deeply silent place, seemingly trapped in time, like something from a Twilight Zone episode. But, despite the slight sense of eeriness, I loved the playground memories that the equipment sparked and I felt compelled to linger. I sat on the swings to add a bit of movement and life to the park, and I wanted to try out the teeter totter but I didn’t have a partner. (One always needed a teeter totter partner that you could trust, not one of those friends who thought it was funny to jump off suddenly when they were at the bottom and you were at the top!)

I left the park and drove a couple of blocks to arrive at the Etzikom Museum and Historic Windmill Centre which was a much grander enterprise than expected! I was drawn first to the windmills, arranged to the side and behind the large museum building which was once the town’s school. There are almost twenty historic and varied windmills on display, each with a descriptive information sign that detailed the windmill’s design features and history of use on the Canadian prairies.

It was very interesting! To the left is the Beatty Pumper, which became the most widely used windmill on prairie farms, and there was even a European-style windmill which could be found at places like Fort Douglas, Manitoba, and Fort Edmonton, Alberta, in the early 1800s.

After touring the windmills I decided to skip the museum and head back out on the road, but luckily I popped in to use their washroom and this is what greeted me when I entered!

An old-fashioned soda-fountain shop selling ice cream and floats, coffee and pie! And, behind the counter were two bright-eyed, fresh-faced teenagers with big welcoming smiles. I wish that I had a photo of them! They looked very happy to have someone walk into their museum, and I couldn’t bear to disappoint them by not staying. It was an excellent museum! Like many prairie town museums, the focus was on early settlement, farming, ranching, and pioneer life. There was a replica Main Street with a boardwalk, and views into spaces such as a barber shop, post office, general store, and school room.

There were also many themed rooms, including a replica mid-1900’s kitchen where the table was set with “Rosalie”-patterned kitchenware. Edged in 22 karat gold, these dishes would have been collected as premiums in bags of Quaker Oats!

After my tour of the museum I decided to splurge on a piece of homemade pie with ice cream, and I greatly enjoyed talking to the teenage girls about their school life (favourite subjects, sports played, future plans etc.), and about their summer work at the museum. When I asked about the origin of the museum’s focus on windmills, one of the girls replied that “every prairie town museum has an old-fashioned sewing machine”, so the museum director decided to have their museum be unique by being the only windmill museum in Canada. It was a joy to talk with them – such a bright spark of life and light in the town – and the pie and ice cream was delicious!

Fortified by my stop, I continued west, now on Alberta Highway 61, with a quick stop in Foremost,

and later I stopped to photograph the tail end of a very long, long, long line of black rail cars that had stretched, for multiple kilometres, roughly parallel to the highway and across a wide expanse of freshly shorn wheat.

As I continued west, dark clouds steadily built up overhead, and I decided to stop early and camp at the Lower St. Mary’s Reservoir campground where I have stayed before. I was feeling tired and headachy, and a bit woozy from the road. Luckily, the campground was not very full, considering that it was Thursday night before the Labour Day weekend, and I was happy to get a large waterfront site with no near neighbours.

It was blessedly peaceful and quiet, and after dinner I took a walk to view the spillway and then decided to walk downriver a ways until a gentle rain started to fall.

It rained through the night, and I woke often, but the rain on my roof is a comforting sound, even in a downpour. My Toyota looked a bit forlorn in the morning, though, covered in leaves and twigs from my campsite’s tall cottonwoods, and a few of those cottonwood leaves were bright yellow, signalling the coming of autumn. As I was leaving, I stopped half way up the gravel road that takes campers from the lower reservoir back up to the prairie level, for this view back down over the area.

It was definitely time to head home, and from here that thought amplified as the Rocky Mountains began to come into view as I travelled west on Alberta Highway 505.

The day brightened as I drew closer to the mountains, and I soaked in my last views of the magnificent Alberta prairie.

I turned onto Highway 6 North, with a brief stop in Pincher Creek, and then onto Highway 3 West, first passing the site of the enormous and devastating Frank Slide,

and then stopping to photograph the gorgeous Mt. Tecumseh and Crowsnest Mountain.

I crossed into B.C. at the Crowsnest Pass and was quite frankly astounded anew by my province’s incredible mountain scenery. I have driven the wonderful Highway 3 across southern B.C. several times before, but the mountains seemed to have grown in my absence! I greatly enjoyed the drive along forested slopes and river valleys, passed quickly through the towns of Sparwood, Fernie, Elko and Cranbrook, and then decided to camp at the small and well-remembered Yahk Provincial Park where I have stayed before. Inexpensive and convenient, with large and reasonably private sites, this campground is located beside a lovely section of the Moyie River where I sat and watched bats swoop and swerve over the river as dusk fell.

I woke early again, ready for my second-to-last day of driving. It was a beautiful day, with a bright blue sky, and I stopped briefly in Creston for this last photo of a grain elevator. Built in the mid 1930’s, it stored wheat, oats, and barely that were grown in the fertile and extensive agricultural lands of the Creston Valley.

As I continued westward I enjoyed the rising and falling curves of the highway as I took in more views of forested mountain slopes, sparkling river valleys, and rocky pinnacles. Unfortunately, photos do not do justice to the immensity of the mountains, but they do capture the beauty of this small alpine lake at Kootenay Pass, looking towards the west,

and then from the other side of the lake looking east.

I made a stop in Greenwood, one of my favourite B.C. small towns, to visit “my house”** (see link at the end of this post),

and later I made my first ever stop in the town of Midway, where I checked out their riverside campground for future reference. It was a nice place to stop, eat some lunch, and rest a bit while watching the lazy flow of the Kettle River, and there is a riverside trail starting from here that I might walk someday…

Here, I made the obligatory stop at the top of Anarchist Mountain for the view down into Okanagan Valley,

with a zoomed-in view of the town of Osoyoos, and yet more mountains ahead!

I followed the S-curves down to Osoyoos and considered stopping for a swim, but home was now like a magnet, pulling ever-stronger the closer I got to the coast so I zipped straight through town, rose steeply up out of the valley, and later stopped for this view as the road swooped down again.

I stopped again on the approach to Cawston and Keremeos. Look at those mountains! It was like I was seeing them for the first time. Below is the Similkameen River and nestled ahead in the narrow V of the river’s valley is the town of Keremeos with its vineyards, orchards, and roadside fruit stands.

It was still early in the day, and I had thought that I might drive all the way to Vancouver, arriving near dark, but I was feeling tired. I then considered driving as far as Manning Park, but I knew from previous experience that it might be impossible to find a campsite there on the Labour Day weekend so I checked out the Prikard Creek Recreation Site campground, located just west of Keremeos, and luckily there was a site for me, and an excellent one at that! The campground was right beside the beautiful Similkameen River, and the air was hot and dry and smelled of Ponderosa Pine.

I had a wonderful and relaxing late-afternoon swim, entering upstream, floating downstream with the current, and then walking back upriver to do it over and over again. I felt happy here, and I took a rare selfie as it was my very last night on the road. I also took a last photo of the Similkameen River as the sun lowered in the west. It was to be my last photo of my long journey across Canada and back.

The Very Last Leg of the Last Leg!

In my memory, my campout at Prikard Creek was the end of my epic roadtrip, but of course I still had the very last leg to complete, a further 320 km to reach home! I left shortly after dawn, and I had the beautiful highway through more scenic B.C. wilderness mostly to myself all the way to where Highway 3 joins Highway 1 just east of Hope. From there, the traffic began to build considerably, and soon there was a thick stream of holiday-weekend traffic, still travelling at speed, as we crossed over the Patullo Bridge and continued westward towards the city. (“It would be a shame to have an accident now!” I thought!) Finally, I exited the stress of Highway 1 and crossed Boundary Road into Vancouver. Phew! Then, after a last half hour of driving, my trusty Toyota and I were finally back home, safe and sound, having travelled 17,787 kilometres, over two and a half months, together across Canada and back. Phew indeed!

So, would I do it again? When I first returned I would have answered, “No way, once was enough!”, but now, months later, I’m not so sure!

Thank you for joining me on the journey, and I hope to see you on the next! 🙂

P.S. I have just realized that the very first and the very last photos of my trip were both of the Similikameen River, taken two and a half months apart. Here, at Bromley Rock Provincial Park in June, the river had been running fast and high with spring runoff, and it was so beautiful – deep, clear, green, and sparkling!

** This following blog post, from a previous drive across Highway 3, has some really great photos of Greenwood (including “my house”), as well as a bit of history of this former mining town. There are also photos and details of other great stops along the exceptionally wonderful B.C. Highway 3. https://christineswalkabout.com/2022/01/05/western-road-trip-a-magnificent-start-heading-east-on-highway-3/,

And, here is a link to the post which follows the one above, with great photos of sights along Highway 3 east of Yahk, (mountains!), and then south on Alberta Highway 6 to the Waterton Lakes National Park area and beyond. https://christineswalkabout.com/2022/01/07/western-road-trip-into-southwestern-alberta-mountains-and-prairie-together-oh-my/

Prairie Highways, Harvests, and Headaches- Postcards from Canada

Well, it’s almost the end of January, 2026, and I am finally getting back to writing some posts from my 2025 cross-Canada road trip. As my loyal readers know, posts from that trip were few and far between because I was mostly camping, with limited access to power and wifi, and because of technical issues with WordPress. The “Headaches” referenced in the title above are still on-going, months later, but various medical assessments have been made and treatment options are being explored. Despite those headaches, which began in Nova Scotia and worsened as I began my journey homeward, I continued to make the most of my travels and to appreciate all that I saw and experienced. I’m not quite sure how to best organize upcoming posts, but I have to start somewhere so I will begin with heading west, homeward, from my last post written in Winnipeg. We’ll see how it goes after that!

Heading West – From Manitoba into Saskatchewan

My last post was written in Winnipeg where I had decided stay in the same excellent airbnb that I had stayed in on my way east. It was late August and I had been suffering from daily headaches for about a month. They had worsened in severity as I travelled across northern Ontario, and I was at the point where I felt that I might need medical attention. I had the entire peaceful and quiet main floor of a small house to myself so I rested a lot, did laundry, downloaded photos, worked on my blog post, and rested some more. The following morning, feeling somewhat refreshed, I decided to carry on with my journey so I quickly made my way out of the city and onto wonderfully quiet secondary highways that were as straight as an arrow.

I could drive with speed, and yet look all around at fields that stretched far to the horizon, including this immense field of sunflowers! What an expanse!

I walked a short way into that field,

and it was a bit freaky because there were so many large grasshoppers flying about, as well as literally hundreds and hundreds of black beetles on the ground, moving very quickly every which way all around my feet, and they could jump forward at least eight inches! I’ve never seen anything like it! I dragged my focus away from those bizarre beetles, up to the large nodding sunflower heads that were heavy with seed, and I was charmed to find one late bloomer that was doing things in its own way and on its own time.

Continuing westwards, I passed fields and fields of ripe wheat, and of corn that was taller than me.

I also stopped often to photograph the built environment of grain storage elevators, some historic, tall and angular, clad in faded wood, and others newer, round, metallic, and grouped in clusters. Whether old or new, they act as vertical punctuation marks on this horizontal landscape, and they proclaim modern human dominion over the prairie.

I made a stop at the small St. Paul’s Anglican Church (1910) in Baie St. Paul and admired the peaceful lines of its interior architecture. These small prairie churches are almost always unlocked and well cared for, and they evoke the hopes, labours, and community connections of generations past.

After a morning of quiet roads, the Google Lady directed me to the Trans Canada Highway for a (thankfully) short part of the drive, and then I was back on secondary highways again, heading roughly northwest, with the roads now losing their arrow-straightness as they began to curve and rise and fall around small hills on the approach to Riding Mountain National Park. It was a beautiful drive, but the park itself and the campground were a little underwhelming. It was still early in the day, but I was already feeling tired, and a headache was growing. I took a slow easy walk along the lakefront, read for a bit, and had a quiet dinner in camp. I retired early, but my headache was growing to massive proportions and I had a rough night.

The following morning, just as I was leaving Riding Mountain, I got a “How are you doing?” call from a kind friend and I immediately and tearfully blurted out my worries about my ongoing headaches. She got in touch with a nurse practitioner and urged me to visit an ER for a CT and bloodwork. I decided that it was past time to finally seek some medical help so rather than continuing northwest, I decided to head southwest to Regina to visit a hospital. I was still determined, though, to enjoy the beautiful prairie landscapes as I travelled. It was a gorgeous morning, and I enjoyed the quiet highway that curved up and over low hills, past golden wheat fields, and beside many ponds and small lakes that were edged with deep green.

Here, I felt lucky to see a beaver swimming across a placid pond that reflected the bright morning sky.

Sandy Lake looked like a great little town,

and I loved the curving lines of shorn wheat on this field.

I continued to stop often for postcard photos as I made my way west and crossed into Saskatchewan. The fields of canola that had been in bright yellow bloom when I travelled east in June were now a mottled mix of green and pale burgundy, with long pods filled with seed,

and in some fields purple-tinged clover filled the air with sweet scent.

By early afternoon I was driving along on the very straight Highway 22, past the huge mine buildings and tailings of the world’s largest potash mine near Esterhazy,

and about 80 km later I stopped for a much-needed lunch break in a small shaded Lions park at the far end of the tiny town of Neudorf. A large RV with B.C. plates was parked there and a couple sat at one of the picnic tables. They noticed my B.C. plates and struck up a conversation, and we were soon aware of an amazing coincidence. I had met this couple, Jack and Stella, briefly, on a trail in Manitoba’s Spruce Woods Provincial Park exactly two months prior and here we were together in a small park beside a little-travelled highway in the-middle-of-nowhere-Saskatchewan. Even more amazing is that when I first met them I had been walking the last section of trail with a couple from Winnipeg, Jill and Ralf, who had later visited me in my campsite, and afterwards they had also visited with Jack and Stella! My call on this very morning from “a kind friend” had been from Jill, who was following my travels via my blog and texts, with Ralf beside her! So, in the huge expanse that is Canada, what are the odds that five people who met one day on a trail in Manitoba, should somehow connect together on one day a full two months later? Not very likely at all! When we realized the connection, Jack and Stella and I called Jill and Ralf to say hello and texted them a selfie. It truly was an amazing coincidence!

I continued on the drive west and enjoyed the sweeping swoosh of the descent into the beautiful Qu’Appelle River valley.

In Fort Qu’Appelle, I visited its museum which features one of the oldest buildings on the Canadian prairies – an original building from the Hudsons Bay Company trading post that was built here in 1864.

I didn’t stay long at the museum, as the day was now very warm and I was beginning to tire, but I did take time to admire the beautiful artistry of colourful Métis beadwork, and of a buffalo hide painting, done in a traditional style, by Wayne Goodwill, a former chief of the Standing Buffalo Dakota First Nation. Chief Goodwill’s ancestors had arrived in Canada in 1867 with Sitting Bull who was his great-great-grand uncle.

I drove down Fort Qu’Appelle’s main street and stopped to photograph the Hudsons Bay Company Store which was built here of brick and stone in 1897. It is is oldest surviving retail HBC store building in Canada. There, I ran into Jack and Stella again, and they urged me to visit a wonderful bakery down the street. Full of locals who were seated at the front of the cafe, and owned by Brad, the butter tarts and saskatoon berry tarts were delicious!

Reluctantly, I soon made my way onto busier roads and then Highway 1 into Regina where I visited a very crowded ER. Four hours later, the waiting room was just as full as when I had arrived, with new people constantly arriving that looked worse off than me. I was tired, and I had a headache (!) so I decided to leave. It was early evening, and I considered camping stealth in a residential district close to the hospital, but I was feeling anxious in the city so I decided to head some sixty kilometres south to the small town of Milestone to camp in their municipal campground. En-route, I stopped to photograph an old red barn that was bathed in the golden light of the lowering sun,

while directly across the highway, to the west, that light filtered through the dust raised by a pickup truck as it drove fast along a gravel road.

And, as I arrived in Milestone, that setting sun cast a rose-gold light onto railroad tracks that stretched toward the horizon.

I had a better night in Milestone, woke early, cooked up a breakfast, and then continued westward for a great morning of prairie driving. The road stretched ahead of me, with endless views all around, and I stopped often, including here,

where I was curious about something. On the left side of the highway, for many miles, were acres and acres of golden wheat, ready for harvest,

and on the other side was a rusty-coloured crop that I didn’t recognize so I walked a short way into the field to discover Saskatchewan lentils!

I have written before that the prairies are certainly not boring! I loved the rolling terrain of this expansive hay field, recently shorn,

and prairie machinery often caught my eye.

There were windmills, and transport trucks,

isolated farmhouses,

and reminders of days gone by. Here, all was silent as I walked through tall grasses to explore an old homestead.

I stopped in the town of Assiniboia to photograph railway tracks and cars,

and I was inordinately thrilled to get a free soft serve cone with a 30 L fill up at the Co-op. Bonus! Such simple pleasures to be had on the road! I continued, westward on Highway 13,

until I reached Ponteix, a great little Saskatchewan town that I had stopped in on my way east. Their historic grain elevator is so striking!

I made my way to their excellent municipal campground, which is green and nicely shaded, to have a healthy lunch, a bit of a rest, and a shower. Luckily, their outdoor public pool was open so I had a refreshing and very happy swim while kids played around me and their seated moms chatted with each other. Feeling like a new person after my swim, I continued west, with a quick stop in Cadillac to photograph yet another beautiful grain elevator. I had stopped here too when heading east, and had camped in Cadillac’s municipal campground. I really do like small town Saskatchewan!

I passed quite a few oil derricks, small dinosaurs feeding on dinosaurs,

and at this stop to photograph another, I again found a new type of crop that I hadn’t previously noticed.

I guessed from the size of the pod, and the leaf shape that is particular to legumes, that maybe they were chick peas, and I was right!

I continued westward and was excited to finally approach the familiar and well-remembered territory of the hills and range lands of the Frenchman River valley, and the town of Eastend where I planned to camp. I’ve stayed in the municipal campground here twice before, on previous prairie road trips, and had made friends in town with a group of seniors who sit together and chat on a Main Street front porch. The seniors weren’t sitting out today so after choosing my campsite I decided to make the short trip to visit Chimney Coulee, some six kilometres out of town along a curving gravel road that took me up out of the valley, with sweeping views down and back,

and views to the west,

and far distant views to the east.

Chimney Coulee was once, briefly, a Hudsons Bay Company trading post. It was established in 1871, but was abandoned after only a few years because of frequent skirmishes in the area between parties of Blackfoot and Assiniboine and Cree warriors. Later in the decade, some sixty families of Métis settled in the area, and in 1877 a Northwest Mounted Police detachment of three men was established here as a stopover between the larger Fort Walsh and Wood Mountain detachments. A principal task of the detachment was to run patrols and to keep an eye on Sitting Bull and his thousands of Sioux followers who were camped south of Chimney Coulee, near present-day Eastend. The NWMP detachment closed in 1887, and over time the Metis left the area, leaving behind their house foundations and stone chimneys for which the coulee is named. The last chimney collapsed in 1915, and there is very little to see today, beyond several information boards. Trees and grasses have overtaken the site, but it was still a beautiful and worthwhile stop.

I decided to continue a ways further beyond Chimney Coulee, and the road rose higher and up to a gorgeous and beckoning expanse of rolling prairie grassland. The photo below, sadly, does not even begin to do justice to how beautiful that place was, and how enticing the road ahead.

The road whispered, “keep going”, and I wanted to say yes, but my decision and strong conviction was, “I’ll come here again.”

I turned my Toyota around and enjoyed the return journey, still exulting in the views. I made a last stop here,

for a view across to the deep green band of cottonwoods that line both sides of the Frenchman River in its valley. The town of Eastend is hidden beyond the trees, but its old wooden grain elevator can be seen to the left, between the trees and the hills behind. My campsite was down there somewhere, positioned right beside and above the river, and I now knew that Sitting Bull and his people had also camped somewhere in the near vicinity!

I made dinner, and then took an evening walk through the campground and alongside the river to the town. It was a peaceful way to end another day on the road, full of harvest-ready prairie vistas, from Milestone Manitoba to Eastend Saskatchewan.

P.S. A fond hello to Jill and Ralf, Jack and Stella! 🙂

P.P.S. Apologies for the excessive length of this post! I’ll aim for shorter posts going forward. 🙂

I Kiss My Toyota Everyday – Reflections and Gratitude

Visiting Family in Quebec, Northern Quebec to Ontario, and on to Manitoba, and Feeling Much Gratitude for our Spectacular Country

August 24, 2025

Hello everyone. Yes, I kiss my Toyota everyday, and often many times a day! I kiss my fingers and then pat the steering wheel and say, “Thank you Toyota. I love you Toyota”, and sometimes I say “Sorry Toyota,” when the road is extra-bumpy or the day is hot and the drive is long. I finally looked at my trip meter today and I have driven 14,975 km since I first left Vancouver (!), with still at least another 2303 km to go if I drive the most direct route home, which I won’t, as I prefer the secondary highways where I can take my time. My trusty and valiant 2007 Toyota Highlander is a star! (Youtube’s Car Angel, a used-car expert, says “Best car ever made, period.”) Here we are, this morning, stopped again at the longitudinal centre of Canada, just east of Winnipeg, but this time heading west.

I am so far behind on my posts, and I hope to publish some this winter, but a quick summary of the last few weeks is that, after visiting the Maritimes (if possible I would have doubled or tripled my time there), and after a quick tour around the Gaspé peninsula, I spent a week visiting my dear aunts and uncles and a cousin in Quebec, at Baie-Comeau and around Lac St. Jean. It has been seven years since I last saw them, and I was lovingly embraced and received (and very well fed!). What a joy it was to see them, and to exchange news and tell stories and talk from morning ‘til night, ensemble en français. Merci à tous! Je vous aime!

If I had more time (and more stamina for busy urban areas and complicated, traffic-filled roads) I would have also visited aunts, uncles, and cousins who live in and around Montreal and Quebec City. But, while touring the Gaspé peninsula, I noticed that the fireweed was full with deeply wine-coloured seed pods, and showing the last of its flowers, and a single dry leaf blowing across the highway almost had me in tears. “Time to turn back,” it said.

So, after my stay with relatives I began the journey westward in earnest and drove over 2300 kilometres in four days. First, I travelled from Lac St. Jean to a campsite at Lac Normand, east of Val d’Or. What a brilliant day of driving that was, with blue skies and bright white clouds reflected in every placid lake that I passed. Here are just two of many,

and here is Lac Norman as I sat on a large granite boulder on the shore and watched day turn to evening,

and then to sunset.

The next morning, I thought to take a photo of my “pour la route” Quebecois gifts – wild Lac St. Jean blueberries, picked with Richard and Paulette, a jar of caramel made by my Tante Liette, and canned moose and partridge given to me by my Tante Flo. Merci!

The next day’s drive, from Lac Normand to Wawa was equally beautiful with forests, rivers, lakes, and a few small towns. I stopped for awhile for wifi at the Cozy Diner in Matheson where I treated myself to a second breakfast of the day, and then couldn’t resist a maple-chocolate-bacon muffin for the road.

I was googling the possibility of a two-day jaunt north from Cochrane to Moosoonee and Moose Factory, just south of James Bay, by train, but I was too last-minute with my idea and it wasn’t possible to organize reasonably-priced accommodations. Oh well, perhaps another time! (When I taught grades 4 and 5, and we did mapping skills, we would explore a map of Ontario in the Nelson Intermediate Atlas, and one of my questions was always, “How can you get to Moosoonee at B4 (or whatever the grid location was), and the answer was “By train, airplane, or boat – there is no road.”)

So, I carried on west, towards Timmins, and the road was so fun to drive and mostly empty of cars. As on many days before, music helped to eat up the miles – Elton John, Chris Isaak, and CCR’s Greatest Hits album (especially) were fantastic to drive to, and my Toyota and I were one with the road and the sky and the music. (I wish I had a “curve in the road” photo to share, or one with a view from a rise, but the one below, on a straight stretch, will have to suffice.)

In Wawa, I camped stealth in town after having a simple dinner and a long walk at the town’s peaceful lakefront park.

The following morning, I felt a strong fondness for this little town, and I decided that I would take a photo of the giant wooden goose that it is famous for.

But the photo that I really wanted, but was too shy to ask for, was of an older couple, dressed in matching red-checked shirts, and carrying large cups of Tim Hortons coffee, he in a ball cap. They looked stereotypically very Canadian, and very happy to be on holiday and visiting Wawa’s giant Canada goose!

So, Canada. What a country! When I was on my way east, and travelling in Saskatchewan in late June, a few days before Canada Day, a radio host – Dave, “The Voice of Saskatchewan” – was asking listeners to call in and say how proud they are of our country, on a scale of 0-10. He started off with his own rating of 8.5, saying that he was generally very proud of Canada, but that there were some things to fix. His first caller, though, said, “Zero.” Omg, why? Because, he said, he pays too much in taxes and the “fat cats” in Ottawa waste it and take it for themselves, etc. He continued on with his whining and complaining so I soon turned it off. I felt sorry for the fellow, with a glass completely empty instead of, c’mon, at least half full! I thought to myself, at the time as I continued to drive, that I was also at about 8.5 or 9 on the scale, but after having driven across this great and beautiful country, with its friendly, kind, hardworking and down-to-earth people – young and old, with their families here for generations, or recent immigrants – I am beyond “ten out of ten” proud of Canada. That poor fellow. I think of him sometimes, likely listening to negative news each and every day that skews his perception of reality and makes him angry and unhappy. Turn it off, I would say to him if I could, and look around you and see all of the good things that we have – there is a whole lot to be grateful for in our, not-perfect, but nevertheless exceptional country.

Now, when I started this post, some hours ago, I had intended to write out a gratitude list, but I will save that for another time as the list is long! Instead, here are several more photos from my drive across northern Quebec and Ontario.

There was some industry too, but not much, as I passed through miles of beautiful wilderness. There were high-power transmission lines that cut across the land, or followed the highway in places, and I passed several mines including the massive open pit gold mine at Malartic. As well, I had to stop quite a few times where there was road construction going on. I don’t envy any of the workers those hard jobs!

I loved this stop on the shore of Lake Superior as I neared Thunder Bay (so fun to scamper on those rocks),

and after Thunder Bay (which is aptly named) I lost the sunny skies to dark clouds, and episodes of light and sometimes heavy rain for much of the day.

But that was okay. Quieter music kept me company – Simon & Garfunkel, Neil Young, Patsy Cline, and Roy Orbison, among others – as I focussed on driving the increasingly very busy Trans Canada/Ontario 17 and 17A Highways across the border into Manitoba, and on to a campground at Falcon Beach. Then, this morning, those near-constant forests on both sides of the highway disappeared, and I emerged onto the Prairies, with views that stretch to the horizon in every direction. Hello Prairies!

Tomorrow, my Toyota and I are off to Riding Mountain National Park, (our National Parks, and Provincial Parks, and their staff, are definitely on my gratitude list – we should make more parks!), and then I will continue to make my way, not too fast and not too slow, back to Vancouver. Thank you, dear Toyota, thank you, Canada, and thank you very much to everyone for reading. Xxoo.

The Most Beautiful Place in Nova Scotia? – Postcards from Canada

Cape Sable Island, Shelburne, Kejimkujik National Park – Seaside

Hello everyone. I am currently in Halifax (my last morning here), and would like to get this post out after many trials and tribulations tech-wise (both my camera and iPad have been acting wonky – yesterday I went to the Apple Store, Best Buy, two Walmarts, and Henrys Cameras, with limited success at solving the issues, and that’s not how I wanted to spend my time in Halifax!). It’s been a bit of an odd time here in Nova Scotia, with some low energy and spirits on my part, which is not surprising considering how much activity and excitement I experienced on PEI and Les Îles-de-la-Madeleine. Also, I have been on the road for quite a while now, so a bit of road fatigue is to be expected. But, I have definitely seen some beautiful places here, and have visited excellent museums where I really connected emotionally with the history. (Posts (hopefully) to come in the future!) For now, I’d like to jump ahead to a very special place that may very well be the most beautiful place in Nova Scotia. This opinion is subjective, of course, especially since I have seen just a very tiny fraction of what this province has to offer with all of its varied landscapes, but to me it was perfection. Let me take you there, with a few stops, first, on the way…

After a day of sightseeing down the Fundy coast, and with some great long-weekend-holiday-Monday classic rock playing on the radio as I drove a very fun and scenic, curving coastal road, I arrived at Cape Sable Island, via a causeway, to see the tallest lighthouse in Nova Scotia. Uh, it’s way out there, accessible only by sea!

Okay, so I didn’t do my research well enough! I was still happy to be on the island, and I found a convenient picnic table by the sea for my dinner (with the lighthouse, teeny-tiny in the very far distance).

It was a peaceful place, and there were some lovely photos to be had as a I walked out to a dock over the water,

and looked back over a calm bay.

I chatted with a local couple who were out for a drive, and they told me that sometimes people camp at a local beach parking lot so I went to Hawk Beach, with its long stretch of white sand on one side, and a high bench of cobbles on the other,

but I didn’t think that it was a good spot to overnight. I then checked out the beach parking at Daniel’s Head which looked to be perfect. It was still early evening, so I walked down the beach a ways,

and then a long way up the beach,

enjoying the breeze and the sound of the sea and gulls. On the return, I watched piping plovers hunting for food at the tide line. They nest in the nearby dune area, and it seemed like the adults were supervising their young as they moved back and forth between patches of seaweed.

As the sun set, I assessed the situation (I have been camping in established campgrounds and it was only my second time on this trip to camp stealth) – two other SUVs, a respectable-looking van, and a smallish motor home. The other occupants and I gave each other nods of acknowledgment that meant, “Yes, staying the night”, and so I settled in for a very good sleep as night fell and fog started to roll in from the sea. The next morning, this is the sun rising, above the dune behind my car, and through the fog.

I was the first up, made breakfast quietly, and then went for a morning beach walk. I crossed over the dune to this view,

and began my walk up the beach.

Fishing boats were just visible on the horizon,

and past the rocks,

a group of seals seemed to be dozing, with a few slowly waking up.

As I walked, I was diverted by the beautiful forms and colours of seaweed and shells on the beach,

and by glances back to the sun on the water.

I did not want to stop! But, there were more places to see so eventually, reluctantly, I turned back, returned to my car, and headed to my planned stop at the town of Shelburne. Known for its historic waterfront, Shelburne has many beautiful old homes and buildings, including 17 homes that were built before 1800. In 1783, after the American Revolution, around 400 families, loyal to England, moved here as a group to settle in British-controlled Nova Scotia, and many more followed in subsequent years to establish a community of fishers and ship builders.

The orange building, Coyle House, was built in 1784, and the light blue house beyond it was built in 1785.

The elegant Matthew Dripps House was also built in 1785,

as was the very large Ross Thomson House.

There were other beautifully restored and maintained buildings on the waterfront, including the Shelburne Barrel Factory, which is said to be the last working, privately-owned cooperage in Canada, and for 41 years it was run by the only female cooper in the world.

There was also the Dory Shop Museum building,

and so many characterful wooden houses to see.

I really enjoyed my walk here, in the quiet of the morning, on a beautiful day, and was glad that I had arrived on the early side when just a few others were around – locals walking their dogs, and shops just opening.

Again, I wanted to linger, and stay a while, but I carried on to my next planned stop, a hike to the sea in Kejimkujik National Park – Seaside. By the time I arrived at the trailhead, it was getting close to high noon, and was very warm. I had already walked a fair bit that morning, at the beach and in Shelburne, so I decided that I would just do the 2.6 km trail in and along a short section of coast, take a few photos, and hike straight back out again. The first two kilometres were on a level trail, surfaced with crush which I hate because of the noise it makes, but the views and the plants kept me happy, especially the wild roses which have been a constant for me on this cross-Canada trip. I have seen them in every province, and their bright pink colour and gorgeous scent always cheer and enliven me.

There were also bog plants, which I love, including pitcher plants and a white orchid that was new to me and very delicate and pretty.

And then I arrived at this view, and saw a long white beach in the distance, stretching out far along the coast.

I descended to the first sandy cove,

and then chose to walk south to the next small cove,

with its large rounded stones, some stained by algae.

The stones were so fun to walk and balance on, and I stopped often when my attention was caught by interesting lines, textures, and shapes.

There were small seaweed-covered rocks off-shore,

including one for the birds,

and I made my way carefully over the slippery seaweed for this shot of a balancing rock.

I turned back north to begin the return trail, but that long bright white sand beach was still stretched out in the distance so I just had to go that way. I crossed the sandy beach of the first cove and found the trail that led over rocks and a short boardwalk, past the iconic National Park red chairs, and then on to the next little cove.

The rocks were so beautiful!

The trees, the curves of sand, the colour of the water, and the plants were all beautiful. I was beyond thrilled, and everything that I saw, far and near, was exquisite and perfect. I walked,

and walked,

and walked,

and stopped for a closer view of these amazing plantains, growing in a few inches of sand, just metres from the sea.

The next cove was gorgeous,

the granite rocks were veined with quartz and sparkling flakes of mica,

and this view nearly stopped my heart!

Seriously, I was in love, and ecstasy, and awe. I continued on,

and on,

until I finally stopped here,

atop a large mound of sun-warmed granite to have a rest and a snack and to look at the sea and the expanse ahead.

I lay down for a while, my face tucked away from the sun and under my hat, and I think that I slept for a few moments. As on my morning fog-beach walk, and my time in Shelburne, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to go further. But, of course, eventually, (or almost always), a return is necessary, so I set off, back south, so incredibly grateful to have seen this extraordinarily beautiful place. I took photos on the way back, and will include a few in this collage,

but this deer will get a full frame, even though she is distant and not well-lit or in good focus. What a lovely surprise she was, browsing there in what felt, to me, to possibly be the most beautiful place in all of Nova Scotia.

Now, it is well past morning, and I want to visit the Immigration Museum in Halifax before I leave for my next destination. I think that I may not be able to post again on this cross-Canada trip, as time, etc. is very limited and technical issues still plague me. Tomorrow, I am off to Cape Breton Island, but sadly all Nova Scotia trails have been closed due to extreme fire risk. (They were ordered closed as of 4 p.m. on the day that I visited Kejimkujik – thank goodness that I was able to visit that magnificent place!). So, I will spend a bit less time in Nova Scotia than I had initially planned. After Cape Breton, I may revisit PEI for a few days to see a few places that I wanted to see and missed, and to have a last swim at a favourite beach. Then, it’s off to the north coast of New Brunswick (with lots of seascapes to look forward to there), a drive around the Gaspé Peninsula, visits to relatives in Northern Quebec, and then, finally, homeward….

Thank you so much for following along on these few Postcards from Canada posts – I appreciate the company!

All the best, Christine. XXoo

Letting Go of Chronology, and Jumping Ahead to Eastern PEI – Postcards from Canada

Panmure Island Provincial Park and Lighthouse, Sir Andrew Macphail Homestead, Point Prim Lighthouse, Cape Bear Lighthouse, Murray Harbour, and Guernsey Cove

I still have posts to write about the exceptionally beautiful Les Îles de la Madeleine. I loved, loved, loved it there. I spent six nights, and was planning to add additional nights, but on my second-to-last day a crown fell off of my tooth, and the closest dental appointment I could get was in Charlottetown PEI. I was sad to leave Les Îles without having seen all that I wanted to see, but I also felt happy to return to PEI. Something about this island really calls to me, and it feels like it could be home. I occasionally stop to photograph houses with “For Sale” signs! I was excited when my ferry from Les Îles began to sail along the eastern coast of PEI, and from the deck of the ship I was able to recognize the beaches and red cliffs of Basin Head, and then Red Point where I had camped, and then the lighthouse at Souris.

Once off the ferry, I drove directly south to Panmure Island Provincial Park in order to secure a good campsite, and I got a great one, large and nicely shaded. I am loving being outside so much (except for the mosquitoes, which thankfully aren’t too bad), and everything camp-wise tends to go very smoothly. I’m a pro now at this nomadic existence!

After settling in, and a quick lunch, I headed off to visit the beautiful Panmure Island Lighthouse which is the oldest wooden lighthouse on PEI.

Built in 1853, it has gabled windows and is four stories high. I toured the inside, and enjoyed the lines and angles created by the steep ladders and the lighthouse’s octagonal shape.

At the top there was a great view out to the causeway which connects Panmure Island to the rest of PEI . A long sand beach, backed by dunes, faces the open sea, and a red silty and sand beach is on the side facing St. Mary’s Bay.

I next headed to the beach for these views towards the lighthouse,

and later towards the red cliffs at the far south end of the beach.

Then, I had a wonderful afternoon at Panmure that I would repeat on each of my three days here: first, a long walk on the beach, then a swim in the sea (with its perfect temperature and rolling waves), then a peaceful dinner in a very quiet campground, and finally an evening walk. It was a good, slow-down kind of place to be.

The following day, I made the hour-long drive into Charlottetown and did not receive good news at the dentist. Afterwards, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with traffic and tour Charlottetown, so I decided to make my way back to Panmure by the secondary roads, following the coast as much as possible. I was waylaid, for a time, by a long call with a friend, next to this beautiful bay, which cheered me,

and then I carried on, thinking that I might visit the Orwell Historic Village, but I was diverted by a “Nature Trail” sign on the same road. I ended up at the Sir Andrew Macphail Homestead, the beautiful home of an influential, early twentieth-century PEI doctor, professor, and author. I toured the interior of the home, decorated with period-pieces, photographs, and art, but mostly I enjoyed the gardens, and the nature trail that lead down grassy paths to a forest walk along a brook. The yellow cut-leafed cone flowers were taller than me!

I continued on to visit the round lighthouse at Point Prim,

and along the way stopped to photograph lazy rivers, curving roads, and a field where the wheat was an electric mix of yellow and green.

Then, at camp, I had my beach walk, swim, dinner, and then an evening walk, this time along the beach of St. Mary’s Bay, near sunset.

The finale to the day was this brush stroke of pink cloud in the sky, above the dark trees, viewed from my camp chair.

On my last full day on the southeastern coast of PEI, I drove some new roads, and again stopped often at bridges to view the beautiful rivers.

I visited the Cape Bear Lighthouse, which I didn’t climb, but I enjoyed talking with the young student workers there about its history.

I next drove to the very pretty town of Murray Harbour, with its large and elegant heritage buildings and its riverside harbour.

This cozy shed charmed me and is open to all,

and I also enjoyed a long line of harbour-side storage sheds that were whimsically decorated in a medly of colours and styles. It seems like a creatively-inclined town!

I wandered slowly along the tree-lined Riverside Drive, looking at the pretty houses. It was peaceful and quiet, and I wanted to stretch out this last day on PEI. On the return to my car, I stopped on the bridge over the Murray River for final views upstream and then down, feeling a little melancholy at having to say goodbye.

I made one more stop, down to Guernsey Cove, where I had this red sand beach all to myself.

I returned to Panmure campground in the afternoon for one last long beach walk, and one last gorgeous and extra-long swim. The waves were bigger today (so fun!), and the wind was a bit cold but the water was just the right temperature. I met a woman, also playing in the waves, who loves to swim as much as I do. Originally from Peru, she went back and forth several times between BC and PEI, literally testing the waters. Though she was brave enough to swim in the very cold Pacific surf at Tofino multiple times, she decided that the PEI swimming suited her best. I would have to agree! Afterwards, a healthy camp dinner, laundry, a long conversation with my Quebecois neighbours, and a bit of writing. It was a good day, again, on PEI, and I can see why people return here summer after summer for their holidays. I will miss it, and hope to return. Thank you, Prince Edward Island, for all that you offered this traveller.

P.S. I still have at least one more PEI post to write, as well as posts from almost every other province (yikes!). Perhaps they’ll get written, perhaps not. As I’ve said before, wifi and power and time are limited, but it does feel good to record these memories, and to share these postcards from Canada.

P.P.S. For my family – there was an Acadian singer and musician performing on board my return ferry from Les Îles-de-la-Madeleine and she sang, “Dans ma Belle Petite Maison dans ma Vallée.” ❤️