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.” ❤️