Along the south eastern shore of the St Lawrence River in Quebec, I paused to look at the water and gather information from a tourist office. It was exciting to imagine when the river was a busy thoroughfare for anyone traveling into the interior of Canada and the far reaches yet to become part of Canada by name, in the early days of the Dominion and the time period of the Marco Polo’s last voyage, 1883. In my minds eye, I watched as tall ships under full sail graced the wide expanse and schooners and fishing boats flitted around, white sails flashing in the sun.
As I arrived over the hill and through the border between Quebec and New Brunswick, I experienced such a feeling of elation. “I’m home!” I shouted just to make sure my dog was aware of the significance of the journey. Then after a couple texts at the tourist building just over the border, so that the shout would echo to those waiting to hear my news, I continued on south.
Leaving Montreal, I was off to a slow start, due to a rattly noise in the car’s exhaust that had to be checked out on a Saturday morning…fun to find a mechanic open. I had angels guiding my path for sure, however, because I was able to locate someone and have a length of wire bind up a loose piece of metal quickly and at NO cost – Thank you, thank you, thank you to the good folks at Midas Muffler!
I felt like a pebble out of a sling shot as I drove past Edmunston and Fredericton and then on to Gagetown. With the late start, and a stretch every couple of hours, I was arriving fairly late at night in the dark into an unfamiliar rural area with lots of side roads, and my host was wanting to go to bed! Thankfully I was was able to rouse his early attempts at slumber, as I do not know how I would have found his lovely place without his help! It was tricky enough with his support! A million thank yous to Gary!
But with the car unloaded and stories shared, we all nestled cozily into our beds looking forward to the images, stories, smells…my dog, and adventures awaiting us the next day as the Saint John River Valley and city proper would open up before us.