Monday, July 8^th – On toward PEI

The day dawns warm. The air is calm, a change from the strong, constant winds of the past two days. Fresh cup of coffee in hand we begin securing the wagons for the continuing journey east. Last evening Shannon spotted a fox scanning the camp likely having nosed the lobster. It was also noted that The Ceilidh has made it from coast to coast. We are camped by the saltwater of the Atlantic Ocean. Today we will head toward Shediac and the Confederation Bridge.

The Sunlit Ceilidh Secure in the Setting Sun

at Murray Beach Provincial Park.

The Ceilidh starts with a gentle purr. We roll out of the camp, hang a right and motor down the 134. It’s the coastal highway. Small hamlets pop up every few miles, seeming lonely on the windswept coast, flat and reed infested. The land is prairie flat and that means the ocean runs up the shore for long stretches. It runs inland past low knolls and tiny hills with tidy houses, tiny, tidy houses. Each with a Louis XIV ‘Sun King’ sun, tricoloeur and starfish affixed to the front of the house and a tricoloeur/New Brunswick/Acadie flag. And most are flying a Canadian flag as well.

The folks are friendly and like waving, which is cool because I like waving as well. The pace of life here is much more laid back than home. A backhoe backs onto the highway (of course it backs, it’s a backhoe). We slow, stop, and wait. He fumbles about in a weirdly mechanical dance then moves back up the driveway from which he left. He waves. We wave. We motor on. Steppenwolf has been playing in my head lately and some tunes from 1755, a rocking Acadian band (1755 being the diaspora of the French in the Maritimes).  The sun is still shining.

We make it to Bathurst and turn in our empty beer cans. Sven finds a bookstore owner on site. They chat. He leaves one of his books. We check out the GMC dealer, Canadian Tire and various auto parts dealers looking for a fuel pump for a 1979 – Classic I must say – GMC RV. Not surprisingly there are none around. ‘They could be ordered from the states, but don’t you realize the parts are for a classic, heritage vehicle?’ Yes, we do. ‘Heritage’ doesn’t translate the same for us. I suggest Sven phone Charlottetown and see if NAPA has one. They don’t but will order one in for tomorrow. Yes! We’ll take it! Yay. (some genuine excitement here…it’s a story better told at another time).

We leave Bathurst and hurtle down the highway. Miles and miles of miles and miles…Oh. I’ve done that before.  Anyway, we’re on the freeway and not the picturesque 134. The roadside is strewn with corpses of once ambling porcupines. I feel sad. Like their very distant cousin gophers, porcupines have not adapted to the idea of highways and hurtling vehicles. Their defense developed against wolves and bears and consisted of stop, roll into a ball and let your very long and very sharp quills stick into tender noses. It’s been quite effective for hundreds of thousands of years. Against cars, RV’s and semis, not so much.

The Ceilidh, beautiful girl that she is, performs well and chortles only a couple times during the journey. I wonder what the chortles mean, both mechanically and more importantly, esoterically. Is my personification of this machine becoming, well, a problem? Or is there some hitherto unknown, cosmic energy manifesting from behind the Veil and animating The Ceilidh? Spooky. 😊

We roll past Shediac and shuffle our way to the Silver Sands RV Campground, once again proving the efficacy of the iPhone GPS/Mapping system. A ruddy faced, jovial Englishman greets us at the Large Lighthouse Office with great bonhomie. We are looking for three spots and we are lucky that he has three spots. This is a relief as we’re moving into prime summer vacation time and perhaps there won’t be spots for three of us. ‘One is in the back’ he says. ‘It’s $68. The other two spots are on the water - $100 each.’ ‘That’s a bit rich for us’ I say. ‘It’s the view. Magnificent.’ I look out and see the ocean. Lots of ocean. I’ve seen ocean before. I get it. People pay to see the ocean. Not us at $100 a pop for an overnight.

The owner is kindly. He suggests we travel a few more kilometers to Murray Beach Provincial Park where, he informs us, there will be room for us. Given the $100 price tag per unit per night, we scurry off toward the provincial park.

It’s a relatively short distance of 25 kilometres and we make it. Sven and I wonder how much fuel we have left. I assure him there is a gas station close by. Hmmmm.

OK, It’s A Cheesy Shot but I Had to Put It In. Sunset at Murray Beach Provincial Park.

We make it to the park. A young, freckle-faced, red-headed lad and his very chatty, friendly lady supervisor register our units. We chat and laugh and find out that there is indeed a nearby gas station. Also, there are magnificent sunsets, views of both the Confederation Bridge and of Summerside, on PEI. ‘The water,’ she continues, ‘is the warmest in the Northumberland Straight.’ An older man pops out of a side door and proudly announces the water temperature is 17.5 degrees. He’s just measured it. The temperature was warmer earlier, but it’s still the warmest around!

View Over the Northumberland Straight.

 Proof of Foot Immersion in the Atlantic Ocean at 7:30 AM.

The campsite is beautiful, perhaps the best at which we have stayed. Open spaces, tens of meters between units, pine trees, clean facilities, power and really friendly staff.

How Many Folks Can Identify This Device?

We set up, settle in, walk to the beach and take photos of sunsets. We climb the wee hill and check out the lights on Confederation Bridge.  The water in the Northumberland Straight is warm enough for the park supervisor to spend most of the day paddling about with her grandchildren, Real people, real country. How utterly magnificent!

Shannon at the Beach Hut at Sunset