I've added a couple of photo albums to facebook. Apparently you do not have to sign up with facebook to be able to view them.
Most of the pictures here will have captions saying where they are. Or at least saying that I don't remember where they are.
Somewhere in Canada on a Goldwing - week 1:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=9612&l=a9baf&id=700982680
Somewhere in Canada on a Goldwing - week 2:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=10078&l=87743&id=700982680
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
6000 km from home before we had our first shower.
We entered New Brunswick with a hearty Maritime welcome: the first rain since we left home. It wasn’t too heavy and actually felt good after the 38 degree weather in Quebec. It didn’t interfere with Alb’s vision too much so we kept going and Barbee checked us into a nice campsite in Edmonston. She let us know that there was a square dance going on the in community building later in the evening. Barbee wanted to check it out. The rest of us humoured her and tagged along.
Turns out it wasn’t a square dance, but in fact a country dance with live music and it was quite good.
I guess coming from Northern BC, we are the only ones in the country not familiar with these seasonally permanent communities and campsites aren’t really campsites like the nomadic experiences we know.
Charles in charge .... should be charged.
The campsite we had just north of Quebec was another one of those 99% permanent residents type and they were amused to have English speaking overnighters and so made room for us at the edge of a playground field. We had power and there was a water tap quite a ways away and young Charles was very helpful in getting us set up by moving a picnic table for us. He even went to the office to get us an extra hose so we could reach the water.
That evening the power kept kicking out and Albert and Jim had to rewire their hokey system to get it going again.
I made coffee in the morning while Jim cooked up a batch of oatmeal. The coffee was really gross and we blamed it on the water source. We managed to get a few gulps down and I said, “Isn’t there some Bailey’s or something to make this drinkable?” I turned my head to see Jim pouring ½ a little sample bottle into his mug – great minds think alike. I added a shot to my coffee and choked back a few more swallows. We just couldn’t do it, and had to face the fact that we just wasted the bottle of Baileys. Barbee filled the kettle with water bottles and we started again.
Jimmy made a wholehearted attempt at eating his porridge, but no can-do.
The water made everything taste like burnt rubber or something. The campers next to us who used water from the same tap said theirs was fine, so we blamed it on the hose that Charles brought; it probably sat out in the sun for 2 years or something.
As we were packing up, a park attendant came along in a golf cart collecting garbage or something. Alb gave him the coiled up hose, thanked him and suggested that they not lend it to anyone else. Oh how I wished I had a camera to capture the look on the guy’s face as his stammered in his very broken English, “Oh, no. The young boy Charles. He make mistake. This hose not for drinking water!” His eyes were searching for a reaction from Albert as he asked, “Are you Okay??” “Yeah, yeah,” was Albert’s reaction. Of course Albert was okay – he slept in and didn’t drink and eat the slop Jim and I had.
That evening the power kept kicking out and Albert and Jim had to rewire their hokey system to get it going again.
I made coffee in the morning while Jim cooked up a batch of oatmeal. The coffee was really gross and we blamed it on the water source. We managed to get a few gulps down and I said, “Isn’t there some Bailey’s or something to make this drinkable?” I turned my head to see Jim pouring ½ a little sample bottle into his mug – great minds think alike. I added a shot to my coffee and choked back a few more swallows. We just couldn’t do it, and had to face the fact that we just wasted the bottle of Baileys. Barbee filled the kettle with water bottles and we started again.
Jimmy made a wholehearted attempt at eating his porridge, but no can-do.
The water made everything taste like burnt rubber or something. The campers next to us who used water from the same tap said theirs was fine, so we blamed it on the hose that Charles brought; it probably sat out in the sun for 2 years or something.
As we were packing up, a park attendant came along in a golf cart collecting garbage or something. Alb gave him the coiled up hose, thanked him and suggested that they not lend it to anyone else. Oh how I wished I had a camera to capture the look on the guy’s face as his stammered in his very broken English, “Oh, no. The young boy Charles. He make mistake. This hose not for drinking water!” His eyes were searching for a reaction from Albert as he asked, “Are you Okay??” “Yeah, yeah,” was Albert’s reaction. Of course Albert was okay – he slept in and didn’t drink and eat the slop Jim and I had.
This started me laughing. Hysterically. It was one of those nervous laughs you do when you don’t have any other idea of how to react to something. A number of times for the rest of the day whenever I thought about it I would just burst out laughing.
I have no idea what that hose was actually used for, and that’s probably a good thing, but all of my coffee for the next few days will be at Tim Horton’s only. I will work hard on creating a mental block to erase that two hour period from my mind.
I have no idea what that hose was actually used for, and that’s probably a good thing, but all of my coffee for the next few days will be at Tim Horton’s only. I will work hard on creating a mental block to erase that two hour period from my mind.
Se déplacer si vous s'il vous plaît (move over please)
We spent the day Friday walking through Old Quebec. The buildings and architecture are fantastic. Everything seems to be at a slower pace. The narrow streets are easily shared with vehicles and pedestrians. I don’t think there were even traffic lights or crosswalks on the old streets. As a matter of fact it was easier to get a vehicle to move over for you than some pedestrians, people just walk on either side of the sidewalk and don’t move over. I did an experiment and decided I would walk straight and just see how close people will get before they move. I walked on the rightmost third of the sidewalk and (to be sure I was on my own side) and refused to move. I actually smacked shoulders with a woman in a party of 5 who were spread across the sidewalk. … Okay, that was a stupid thing to blog about but it was a very noticeable thing to me and I just had to say it.
Because the streets are so narrow and were made with horse and buggy in mind, there really isn’t a lot of parking room – especially for a big mondo truck like we have. We found street parking with a maximum 2 hours. The digital parking meter was flashing something which was of course in French, so we just started plugging coins in. Well only about every third coin actually registered any time (3 minutes per 25 cents) We had an hour and 7 minutes by the time the four of us all ran out of change. We decided it would be cheaper to risk a parking ticket. We risked. We lost. It cost thirty seven dollars. Ok, it didn’t cost, because I have no intention of paying it. I think I’ll return the ticket with a letter when I get home.
Because the streets are so narrow and were made with horse and buggy in mind, there really isn’t a lot of parking room – especially for a big mondo truck like we have. We found street parking with a maximum 2 hours. The digital parking meter was flashing something which was of course in French, so we just started plugging coins in. Well only about every third coin actually registered any time (3 minutes per 25 cents) We had an hour and 7 minutes by the time the four of us all ran out of change. We decided it would be cheaper to risk a parking ticket. We risked. We lost. It cost thirty seven dollars. Ok, it didn’t cost, because I have no intention of paying it. I think I’ll return the ticket with a letter when I get home.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Attenti-on! Attenti-on!
About 30km before arriving in Quebec City I saw a turn out for a campsite and suggested we pull in. The sign didn’t show a lot of amenities, but we are pretty self contained and can survive a night without power and water if necessary. The 4 km trail in to the campground was narrow and windy but at least it was paved. The further we went the more I envisioned a forestry type campground.
We turned the corner and there in front of us was the Disneyland of campgrounds.
We turned the corner and there in front of us was the Disneyland of campgrounds.
It had over a thousand sites, a pool, 2 small manmade fishing lakes, mini golf, two basketball courts, tennis, volleyball, 4 playgrounds, restaurants … you get the picture. We ended up getting one of the last sites available in sort of an overflow area, but it was nice and it was sort of out of the way of all the hub-bub and goings on. The only thing that reminded us that we were in such a commercial spot was every half hour the loud speaker throughout the camp announced the next events that were about to happen. Attenti-on! Attenti-on! Blah blah blah en Français ….
We asked someone why we hadn’t seen their ad in the campground book and why the sign on the highway was so obscure. “Oh, we don’t do any advertising anywhere, anytime. We have grown strictly by word of mouth.”
The next night we camped 30km north of Quebec City and even the Quebecers camping next to us had never heard of Domaine de la Chute.
We had to laugh when we were awoken at 8 o’clock in the morning at the next site with “Attenti-on! Attenti-on! Blah blah blah…” I guess it’s a Quebec campsite thing.
We asked someone why we hadn’t seen their ad in the campground book and why the sign on the highway was so obscure. “Oh, we don’t do any advertising anywhere, anytime. We have grown strictly by word of mouth.”
The next night we camped 30km north of Quebec City and even the Quebecers camping next to us had never heard of Domaine de la Chute.
We had to laugh when we were awoken at 8 o’clock in the morning at the next site with “Attenti-on! Attenti-on! Blah blah blah…” I guess it’s a Quebec campsite thing.
Our drive-by shooting of Montreal
The Comedy Festival was going on in Montreal. We didn’t get to it.
As soon as the 401 (which is called the 20 in Quebec) welcomed us, I knew we were in for a ride. As we took the loop to merge on to the freeway we hit an infamous Quebec road patch. These are actually speed bumps that they just randomly plunk down to cover holes in the road. I was hanging on to the back of Alb’s seat, the post of which just sits loosely in a slot between our seats. We hit the bump and the seat back lifted and so did my butt. I actually got air time. I’m thinking that hanging on to a loose seat rest probably ain’t the smartest idea.
The spider web of roadways and the snarl of traffic moving at 110km/hr in Montreal made me laugh at the country back roads we thought were freeways in Gatineau and Ottawa. Of course the perspective on a bike is altogether different than being in a car. You get to smell all the exhaust, hear sounds much more clearly and you can’t see a thing beyond the semi trucks in front of you that are creating a wind tunnel that throws you back and forth.
It seems that a large percentage of drivers in Quebec like to put their indicators on and just leave them on until the next time they might need ‘em. You never really know if they are about to cut you off or worse if they can even see you. Defensive driving is the ticket that you need to survive.
While it was very scary on those roads, I wasn’t really afraid for my life. It is more like being on the scariest ride at the amusement park – it is fun and freaky and you want it to end yet you wanna keep going and get your money’s worth. I will say that Albert and Jesus are they only ones in the world that I would even consider taking that ride with and I was really glad I had ‘em both.
At one point at the crest of an overpass the tanker truck in front of us locked up his brakes to avoid something we couldn’t see. Through the blue smoke and stench of burning rubber I could just envision what Albert’s face was going to look like as a bumper sticker on the back of a tanker truck from New Jersey. Meanwhile the Audi 5000 flying up behind us would have looked lovely with my head as a hood ornament. (To the girls at Tropical: then truly I could be the only one to honestly say “I’m outy 5 towsand.”)
The whole time I was thinking, “I sure hope Barbee is taking pictures cuz I ain’t letting go of the grab handles that are permanently welded to my seat that I have held on to for the first time since we left home 5000 km ago and I realized I can’t depend on the seat back for safety.” Turns out Barbee had the same death grip on the truck grab handles. Ooops. I guess our experience in Montreal is one of memories only.
As soon as the 401 (which is called the 20 in Quebec) welcomed us, I knew we were in for a ride. As we took the loop to merge on to the freeway we hit an infamous Quebec road patch. These are actually speed bumps that they just randomly plunk down to cover holes in the road. I was hanging on to the back of Alb’s seat, the post of which just sits loosely in a slot between our seats. We hit the bump and the seat back lifted and so did my butt. I actually got air time. I’m thinking that hanging on to a loose seat rest probably ain’t the smartest idea.
The spider web of roadways and the snarl of traffic moving at 110km/hr in Montreal made me laugh at the country back roads we thought were freeways in Gatineau and Ottawa. Of course the perspective on a bike is altogether different than being in a car. You get to smell all the exhaust, hear sounds much more clearly and you can’t see a thing beyond the semi trucks in front of you that are creating a wind tunnel that throws you back and forth.
It seems that a large percentage of drivers in Quebec like to put their indicators on and just leave them on until the next time they might need ‘em. You never really know if they are about to cut you off or worse if they can even see you. Defensive driving is the ticket that you need to survive.
While it was very scary on those roads, I wasn’t really afraid for my life. It is more like being on the scariest ride at the amusement park – it is fun and freaky and you want it to end yet you wanna keep going and get your money’s worth. I will say that Albert and Jesus are they only ones in the world that I would even consider taking that ride with and I was really glad I had ‘em both.
At one point at the crest of an overpass the tanker truck in front of us locked up his brakes to avoid something we couldn’t see. Through the blue smoke and stench of burning rubber I could just envision what Albert’s face was going to look like as a bumper sticker on the back of a tanker truck from New Jersey. Meanwhile the Audi 5000 flying up behind us would have looked lovely with my head as a hood ornament. (To the girls at Tropical: then truly I could be the only one to honestly say “I’m outy 5 towsand.”)
The whole time I was thinking, “I sure hope Barbee is taking pictures cuz I ain’t letting go of the grab handles that are permanently welded to my seat that I have held on to for the first time since we left home 5000 km ago and I realized I can’t depend on the seat back for safety.” Turns out Barbee had the same death grip on the truck grab handles. Ooops. I guess our experience in Montreal is one of memories only.
Alice in Rec Land.
After our Reno Depot experience we checked in for 2 nights to Recreation Land, a campsite in Cumberland, about 30 km out of Ottawa.
It was kind of nice having a couple of down days where I didn’t have helmet hair and I didn’t have to wear jeans in 35 degree weather.
Tuesday we hung around the campsite after checking in about noon. The boys went up to Rockland to get some groceries, and then we just vegged out. It was overcast but still quite hot and the only day so far where we experienced the mugginess we were warned about.
Wednesday we all piled into the trailerless truck and headed back into Ottawa to be tourists. We visited the National House of Prayer and then wandered through the Byward Market. After taking a break in an air-conditioned Irish pub we walked around the Rideau Canal and the Parliament Buildings then called it a day and headed back to the campsite.
As luck would have it, July 25 just happened to be the “community potluck” day at the campground. This once a year annual event was just getting under way when we arrived. As typical Ziemers we immediately holed-up in our trailer to avoid the party.
Alb went back to Rockland to wash the bike and get the 8 gazillion bugs out of the grill, Barbee and I caught up on some computering and Jimmy made a feeble attempt to get a tan on his lily-white legs. When he began to hear music and clapping coming from the neighbourhood party he could no longer resist and he dragged Barbee off to be sociable.
Of course one thing led to another and it wasn’t too long before the guitars, mando and lap top were hauled out and they entertained the very eclectic crowd with a very eclectic set of music. They got everything from bluegrass to Everly Brothers to old hymns to Eagles to an attempt at Nous Allon (however that’s spelled) The mostly French crowd was impressed with their “New Brunswick French” accent and one guy even sang along with them cuz he “knew that one”. It was encouraging to hear that their French really was French and the real French people could understand.
Drunk Alice was their biggest fan and she made everyone in the crowd “shut up and listen” when they sang Amazing Grace. Receiving a hand delivered Pieces of Cloth cd made her week.
Tuesday we hung around the campsite after checking in about noon. The boys went up to Rockland to get some groceries, and then we just vegged out. It was overcast but still quite hot and the only day so far where we experienced the mugginess we were warned about.
Wednesday we all piled into the trailerless truck and headed back into Ottawa to be tourists. We visited the National House of Prayer and then wandered through the Byward Market. After taking a break in an air-conditioned Irish pub we walked around the Rideau Canal and the Parliament Buildings then called it a day and headed back to the campsite.
As luck would have it, July 25 just happened to be the “community potluck” day at the campground. This once a year annual event was just getting under way when we arrived. As typical Ziemers we immediately holed-up in our trailer to avoid the party.
Alb went back to Rockland to wash the bike and get the 8 gazillion bugs out of the grill, Barbee and I caught up on some computering and Jimmy made a feeble attempt to get a tan on his lily-white legs. When he began to hear music and clapping coming from the neighbourhood party he could no longer resist and he dragged Barbee off to be sociable.
Of course one thing led to another and it wasn’t too long before the guitars, mando and lap top were hauled out and they entertained the very eclectic crowd with a very eclectic set of music. They got everything from bluegrass to Everly Brothers to old hymns to Eagles to an attempt at Nous Allon (however that’s spelled) The mostly French crowd was impressed with their “New Brunswick French” accent and one guy even sang along with them cuz he “knew that one”. It was encouraging to hear that their French really was French and the real French people could understand.
Drunk Alice was their biggest fan and she made everyone in the crowd “shut up and listen” when they sang Amazing Grace. Receiving a hand delivered Pieces of Cloth cd made her week.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
We're in New Brunswick
We are at an info stop with free internet. Alive and well and still havin' fun. Hopefully will find a campsite with internet and will blog later.
(((hugs))) to all... A.L J.B
(((hugs))) to all... A.L J.B
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Attitude check #2745
You'd think a person would eventually learn to quit thinking bad things about others, cuz it'll always come back and bite ya.
Eight days and 4500 km and we really hadn't experienced big-city traffic because we took the bypass routes through Regina and Winnipeg. Gatineau was our first big city. Now there's a challenge. Let's go into a city at 120km/hr at 5:30pm not having a clue where we are going and not understanding a single thing on the signage with one of us on a 2-wheeler and the other in a large truck pulling a large trailer. The 2-wheeler was in the lead and could far more easily make last minute lane changes.
I am certain this sentence was heard often that evening in Gatineau, "Le touriste stupide. rentre Colombie Britannique." (Go back to British Columbia, you stupid tourist!)
We followed the large question mark signs and wangled our way to the tourist information centre. The attendants stifled a laugh when we asked for nearby camping. "Oh, everything will be booked up now." he said, and turned to ask his colleague something in French. She rattles off a long French sentence which ended with the word "Wal-mart."
We then got directions to two different parking lots where we could park for the night. One was near the arena the other near Lac Leamy. Something got lost in translation and we got the tourist's accidental tour of Gatineau.
I must say that I rather enjoyed the tour. Being the backseat passenger on the bike I had absolutely no responsibility. I didn't have to drive. I was unable to be the map navigator. I can't read French signage. Not a care in the world. For some reason the others weren't so thrilled with my chipper attitude when we arrived at a Reno Depot parking lot which was next to the Lac Leamy parking lot which apparently our info centre guides didn't know was blocked off and closed for the next 3 weeks.
And so Reno Depot was our campground for Monday July 23 because we had no where else to go and stress was running high so our day needed to end.
As we sat in our lawn chairs chillin' for the rest of the evening, I couldn't help but consider the number of times I have driven past Wal-mart and thought "Get a campsite, you cheap bugger. You look like idiots parked in a parking lot pretending you are camping." Yes, I will once again be rethinking my attitude in that regard.
This building says "Something Odjick" ... it was in Maniwaki, the home of Gino Odjick...
Eight days and 4500 km and we really hadn't experienced big-city traffic because we took the bypass routes through Regina and Winnipeg. Gatineau was our first big city. Now there's a challenge. Let's go into a city at 120km/hr at 5:30pm not having a clue where we are going and not understanding a single thing on the signage with one of us on a 2-wheeler and the other in a large truck pulling a large trailer. The 2-wheeler was in the lead and could far more easily make last minute lane changes.
I am certain this sentence was heard often that evening in Gatineau, "Le touriste stupide. rentre Colombie Britannique." (Go back to British Columbia, you stupid tourist!)
We followed the large question mark signs and wangled our way to the tourist information centre. The attendants stifled a laugh when we asked for nearby camping. "Oh, everything will be booked up now." he said, and turned to ask his colleague something in French. She rattles off a long French sentence which ended with the word "Wal-mart."
We then got directions to two different parking lots where we could park for the night. One was near the arena the other near Lac Leamy. Something got lost in translation and we got the tourist's accidental tour of Gatineau.
I must say that I rather enjoyed the tour. Being the backseat passenger on the bike I had absolutely no responsibility. I didn't have to drive. I was unable to be the map navigator. I can't read French signage. Not a care in the world. For some reason the others weren't so thrilled with my chipper attitude when we arrived at a Reno Depot parking lot which was next to the Lac Leamy parking lot which apparently our info centre guides didn't know was blocked off and closed for the next 3 weeks.
And so Reno Depot was our campground for Monday July 23 because we had no where else to go and stress was running high so our day needed to end.
As we sat in our lawn chairs chillin' for the rest of the evening, I couldn't help but consider the number of times I have driven past Wal-mart and thought "Get a campsite, you cheap bugger. You look like idiots parked in a parking lot pretending you are camping." Yes, I will once again be rethinking my attitude in that regard.
This building says "Something Odjick" ... it was in Maniwaki, the home of Gino Odjick... remember Gi-no Gi-no ... best fighter to ever lace up skates?
Monday, July 23, 2007
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