Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Regardez le plus grand homard de la monde!

Somewhere, one of my former French teachers just got a shiver and doesn't know why.

Day 5: Baddeck, NS, to Moncton, NB
Total mileage at the beginning of the day: 1,197.7

After all the wilderness yesterday, I pulled into Baddeck, and then pulled right back out. I just wasn't ready for so many people and cars and decisions. But that meant that this morning I woke in a nameless motel with shite water pressure. I decided to pretend it was angels spitting on me from heaven...

First stop: The Village Highlands Museum in Iona!

I am probably not the girl you want to tag along with at a living history museum. Because I'm actually really interested in the hows and whys of the days of old. So I ask lots of questions. And I totally dig that these people have a job to do, so I frame my questions as though I'm in the 18th century too, not standing in Keens, holding a Canon PowerShot. "Oh, your father's away at sea? When was the last time you saw him?" and "You're leaving Scotland for the new country, eh? What promises lie there?"

Yup. I'm that person.

While you write yourself a note to never travel with me, ever, I'll have Gerty roll the tape.

"Crap. It's the sheep whisperer."
"Oh, hell if I know what we used to dye the yarn."

"What's the Gaelic translation for 'Girl asks too many damn questions'?"

"Dissatisfied humbugs in the shape of politicians..."

I swear, we had very similar wallpaper in the house where I grew up.
And the time period was the same.
K: Bert, you okay? You don't look so good.
B: Kel, I'll tell ya, my balls are killing me.
The museum was awesome. And though the ladies look a little dour here, they were all very kind and put on a good show. They really knew their stuff, and I was as happy as a kid at Disney.

Then I hit the parking lot:
Masshole, 10 o'clock.
I was struggling at this point, trying to decide what direction to take. So I let the weather be my guide.

Big storms were headed our way, so I decided this was really the day for driving. I chose to head southwest and bust through the storm, in hopes of coming out sunny on the other side. But it meant making some tough decisions.
I'd much rather head toward Whycoughsomuch, but I know I need to head south.
And the timing was good. The entire Canadian sky was starting to look like I do when there's no chocolate in the house.

I won't lie--passing back over the causeway to mainland Nova Scotia was a little emotional. I did about 2/3 of what I wanted to do and I don't know when I'll make it back. But then Sly and the Family Stone came on the kPod, and I was grooving once again.

Now I'm at a point on this trip where I'm kind of eating one meal early in the afternoon and nibbling on some almonds or fruit otherwise. So that one meal needs to count. Once I got to Truro, I made my way to Murphy's in a random strip mall, per the guide book. The fish and chips were perfect.

Owner: How was everything?
Me: As good as the guide book said it would be.
Owner: Bless your heart.

We talked about the beauty of Nova Scotia's coastline, and when he heard I was from New Hampshire, he compared a town here to Durham.

Me: Durham? That's where I live!
Owner: Bless your heart.

He was adorable! Everyone, go find Murphy's in Truro (88 Esplanade) and get some good fried seafood. Keep that man in business!

Dear Canada, you're killing me with all of these face
cutout opportunities I can't be part of because I'm solo.
So back on the road, I decided to be a tough guy and make it all the way to Amherst, NS. But then I hit the storm. Holy flooded scary driving, Batman! I decided life is good, so why fuck it up and get killed on the highway? I took a back road (rt 4?) toward Amherst and enjoyed having a road entirely to myself. And when I needed gas, I pulled over at the Irving and . . .

So we meet again.
The torrential downpours had subsided by now, and I was close enough to Amherst that I figured, why not try to get to Moncton? It broke my little heart to leave my beloved Nova Scotia, so I took one detour to lift my spirits.
World's largest lobster, Shediac, NB
*pinch* *pinch*
Photobombed by a perturbed pirate!
I look a little worse for wear in that one.

Finally, I ended up in Moncton, NB. And I don't know where you slept last night, but I slept in an IKEA showroom.

Dear Motel 6, wood floors in a hotel are a terrible idea. I could hear the upstairs
neighbors pole dancing and tossing horse shoes well into the night.

Doh! Masshole, 1 o'clock. Can't shake these bastards.

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