Monday July 30 we arrive in Shediac, New Brunswick. If I recall, in an earlier blog I commented on the great highways in this province. I recant. The Acadian route along the coast is beautiful. The road probably looks beautiful from the air. It’s kind of like a quilt, with patches of black, grey and red asphalt. It’s bumpy and it’s windy. But the sun was shining and the ride was good.
Shediac is a little artsy fartsy town that increases in size from 6,000 to 40,000 in the summer. There is no Wal-Mart, no Canadian Tire and no Payless Shoes. The streets have few traffic lights and are totally over-bogged with vehicles but somehow, once again, the traffic and pedestrians do an amazing job of sharing the road. I could easily retire here. I resisted the urge to find a real estate paper.
We stayed in another mostly permanent campsite with yet another laundromat that ate all our change and still left us with wet clothes. From now on we find a real laundromat or else throw away dirty things and buy new – it would be cheaper.
Our campsite was walking distance to Parlee Beach. Ahhhh! The water was as warm as some baths I have taken. Apparently this is the warmest water north of Virginia. I wouldn’t argue that.
Barbee and I got a few strange looks in the public washroom as we were dying our hair. I really, really need a hair cut but felt somehow dying it would make a difference. – It was another one of those “you should be smarter than that” moments. I’ll find a hair dresser on PEI.
Tuesday evening we hung out on Pont du Chene Wharf. Fantastic view of the sunset. Amazing “biker” bars and restaurants. Captain Dan’s caters to bikers and there’s a huge parking lot only for motorbikes. I took a picture but for some reason it is the only completely blurry and unrecognizable picture I’ve taken in 2 weeks. The bar was crammed, but I kept thinking “Ted would find us a spot.” Well maybe Ted coulda, but I couldn’t. We ended up at the Sand Bar. This was a blessing in disguise. It was far less crowded, had great food, fantastic waiter and live music. The “band” was just two young guitar players with longish hair playing some older stuff. They reminded me of Glen and for a brief moment I was homesick for my kids.
There are so many bikers in this area it’s amazing. And by “bikers” I don’t really mean bikers. It’s more like normal people who ride motorbikes, most of which are Harleys. Bikers are scary people who sell drugs and kill people. We don’t see many of those.
Shediac is a little artsy fartsy town that increases in size from 6,000 to 40,000 in the summer. There is no Wal-Mart, no Canadian Tire and no Payless Shoes. The streets have few traffic lights and are totally over-bogged with vehicles but somehow, once again, the traffic and pedestrians do an amazing job of sharing the road. I could easily retire here. I resisted the urge to find a real estate paper.
We stayed in another mostly permanent campsite with yet another laundromat that ate all our change and still left us with wet clothes. From now on we find a real laundromat or else throw away dirty things and buy new – it would be cheaper.
Our campsite was walking distance to Parlee Beach. Ahhhh! The water was as warm as some baths I have taken. Apparently this is the warmest water north of Virginia. I wouldn’t argue that.
Barbee and I got a few strange looks in the public washroom as we were dying our hair. I really, really need a hair cut but felt somehow dying it would make a difference. – It was another one of those “you should be smarter than that” moments. I’ll find a hair dresser on PEI.
Tuesday evening we hung out on Pont du Chene Wharf. Fantastic view of the sunset. Amazing “biker” bars and restaurants. Captain Dan’s caters to bikers and there’s a huge parking lot only for motorbikes. I took a picture but for some reason it is the only completely blurry and unrecognizable picture I’ve taken in 2 weeks. The bar was crammed, but I kept thinking “Ted would find us a spot.” Well maybe Ted coulda, but I couldn’t. We ended up at the Sand Bar. This was a blessing in disguise. It was far less crowded, had great food, fantastic waiter and live music. The “band” was just two young guitar players with longish hair playing some older stuff. They reminded me of Glen and for a brief moment I was homesick for my kids.
There are so many bikers in this area it’s amazing. And by “bikers” I don’t really mean bikers. It’s more like normal people who ride motorbikes, most of which are Harleys. Bikers are scary people who sell drugs and kill people. We don’t see many of those.
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