Adventure 535: Stratford, Prince Edward Island (PEI)/Post I

Judy keeps track of the accounts in the "Backseat" book.

Every trip has travel days that connect one adventure to the next. Today was one of those travel days. We came full circle off of Cape Breton Island when we took the second exit onto the causeway merging with the Trans Canada Highway. One hundred and sixty-five driving miles later plus a seventy-five minute ferry ride, we find ourselves in a quite pleasant bungalow on Prince Edward Island looking across the water at Charlottetown. One of my favorite aspects of traveling with the Drouin's is that Ed plans the entire trip. I simply say, "What address should I put into Susie (GPS) today?" For a control freak like me, it's very liberating to relinquish all decision making. On today's journey, we left Baddeck in the pouring rain. Very shortly, the clouds parted, illuminating the lustrous coast line of Cape Breton. We had convinced ourselves after reading reviews that our first stop, a restaurant called Charlene's nestled along the bay in the first nation community of Whycocomagh, was the BOMB. Charlene's Restaurant is famous in the Maritimes for both her hospitality and her seafood chowder, which she serves as "First Breakfast" along with any number of fish cakes you'd care to order. We were like kids at Christmas dreaming for a favorite toy. In no way were we disappointed. Just as we were seated, a young first nation father came in with his mother, his wife, and his young three month old son. Every woman in the place (I think about half the village works at the cafe.) came out to fawn over this child, his father, his mother, and his wife. "Ooh, look at all the hair!" "You're too young to have a son." "Let me hold him." The warmth spread like butter over the fresh tea biscuits served with every meal. Completely satiated, body and soul, we arrived in the small coastal town of Pictou a couple hours later, just a little bit ahead of our scheduled time to board the ferry. We walked around town a bit, bought a package of Mrs. McCarther's Scottish shortbreads, which I'm sure is just a pound of butter mashed into a dash of flour. At any rate, they performed well as dessert after dinner along with a little "titch' of Grand Marnier. The ferry ride to PEI went quickly despite the rough water and the strong wind. I've never been on a a ferry that rolled in waves before.  The Captain even made a little small talk to distract us. Fortunately, we survived the crossing. Thirty miles later, we arrived in Stratford. Of course, we had to make our mad dash around the local super market to stock up on supplies. Having completed that housekeeping task, we occupied the place, chose our rooms, changed into our "jammies", opened a bottle of wine, fixed dinner, and really just enjoyed our good fortune for the rest of the evening. We're here for three nights, a time frame that will allow us to explore a bit of Prince Edward Island. In many ways I'm sad to leave the Scot/French culture of Cape Breton Island. On the other hand, I'm eager to experience new worlds. I've always believed that we're all more alike than we are different, and if we can live with open hearts and fair minds, I remain convinced that life is good, especially today.

 If you are ever in the Maritime Provinces, this restaurant is a MUST stop.

This chowder, mostly seafood, bathed in a delicate broth, and served with fish cakes made of mashed potatoes stuffed with Haddock.

The first Scottish immigrants, led by a powerful man named Norman MacCleod traveled from Scotland as a result of the Highland Clearances in which the English confiscated their land. They made landfall in Pictou, Nova Scotia. The Maritime Provinces owe their culture and much of their history to these hearty folk. 

A small fleet of fishing boats lay protected beside the ferry dock, the season over for the most part. The boats will be removed from the water before the harsh winter sets in.

 Thankfully, we didn't need this vessel today.

The winds were well above twenty-five knots; the seas about four feet. Ferries cross the channel five times a day, sometimes seven in peak months.

Judy pulled a "wild card" and we turned around into this self-serve farmer's market. Unfortunately, the volumes they offered for sale were too much for our time here. We have little use for ten pounds of potatoes, or five pounds of beets.

 Our bungalow in Stratford by the bay.

 The view from the porch. It promises to be a pleasant few days.