The Last Leg Homeward – Postcards from Canada, 2025

From Eastend Saskatchewan, across Alberta, and into Beautiful British Columbia

I drove the last leg homeward, over four days, largely on familiar territory. It was a quieter, reflective time, with fewer stops, that was less about seeing new vistas and more about saying hello to old friends (a highway, a town, a campground…). Each day started early, with solid sessions of driving, still mainly on secondary rural roads, and each ended in time for a campground dinner, quiet evening, and early night. My headache was still present each day, and most of me was fixated on getting home, but another part of me was feeling slightly melancholy, and did not want my journey to end.

I said goodbye to Eastend Saskatchewan, and rose up out of the Frenchman River valley and onto another perfectly straight stretch of prairie highway, empty of traffic.

Tractors and harvesting machinery were parked in the fields, ready for the day’s upcoming work,

or resting after the previous day’s work was done.

I turned to the north, from Saskatchewan Highway 13 onto Highway 21, to avoid a long stretch of gravel road travel, and the road took me down into and across a new section of the beautiful Frenchman River valley.

I turned west again, crossed the border into Alberta, and later turned south onto Highway 685. Here, the road swooped down into and across another wide flat-bottomed valley,

with distant views of the 40 Mile Reservoir. These gorgeous valleys stir up strong feelings of wanting to be a land baron!

Highway 685 ended at the tiny town of Etzikom, Alberta, a new place for me. A sign at the edge of town advertised a windmill museum so I thought that I would make a quick stop as I love windmills. All was dead still in this town as I drove down its main street at about midday. The air was heavy, and there was a sense of abandonment and disuse.

I turned down one of the side streets and passed a few tidy houses and parked cars, but there wasn’t a person in sight, including at the town’s Jubilee Park where I just had to stop because the playground equipment was all pretty much identical to the equipment that I had played on as a kid in the late sixties and early seventies in Cumberland’s Kin Park.

There was no one anywhere around – not one kid, nor any moms with toddlers, and not even a passing car. There was just this empty and deeply silent place, seemingly trapped in time, like something from a Twilight Zone episode. But, despite the slight sense of eeriness, I loved the playground memories that the equipment sparked and I felt compelled to linger. I sat on the swings to add a bit of movement and life to the park, and I wanted to try out the teeter totter but I didn’t have a partner. (One always needed a teeter totter partner that you could trust, not one of those friends who thought it was funny to jump off suddenly when they were at the bottom and you were at the top!)

I left the park and drove a couple of blocks to arrive at the Etzikom Museum and Historic Windmill Centre which was a much grander enterprise than expected! I was drawn first to the windmills, arranged to the side and behind the large museum building which was once the town’s school. There are almost twenty historic and varied windmills on display, each with a descriptive information sign that detailed the windmill’s design features and history of use on the Canadian prairies.

It was very interesting! To the left is the Beatty Pumper, which became the most widely used windmill on prairie farms, and there was even a European-style windmill which could be found at places like Fort Douglas, Manitoba, and Fort Edmonton, Alberta, in the early 1800s.

After touring the windmills I decided to skip the museum and head back out on the road, but luckily I popped in to use their washroom and this is what greeted me when I entered!

An old-fashioned soda-fountain shop selling ice cream and floats, coffee and pie! And, behind the counter were two bright-eyed, fresh-faced teenagers with big welcoming smiles. I wish that I had a photo of them! They looked very happy to have someone walk into their museum, and I couldn’t bear to disappoint them by not staying. It was an excellent museum! Like many prairie town museums, the focus was on early settlement, farming, ranching, and pioneer life. There was a replica Main Street with a boardwalk, and views into spaces such as a barber shop, post office, general store, and school room.

There were also many themed rooms, including a replica mid-1900’s kitchen where the table was set with “Rosalie”-patterned kitchenware. Edged in 22 karat gold, these dishes would have been collected as premiums in bags of Quaker Oats!

After my tour of the museum I decided to splurge on a piece of homemade pie with ice cream, and I greatly enjoyed talking to the teenage girls about their school life (favourite subjects, sports played, future plans etc.), and about their summer work at the museum. When I asked about the origin of the museum’s focus on windmills, one of the girls replied that “every prairie town museum has an old-fashioned sewing machine”, so the museum director decided to have their museum be unique by being the only windmill museum in Canada. It was a joy to talk with them – such a bright spark of life and light in the town – and the pie and ice cream was delicious!

Fortified by my stop, I continued west, now on Alberta Highway 61, with a quick stop in Foremost,

and later I stopped to photograph the tail end of a very long, long, long line of black rail cars that had stretched, for multiple kilometres, roughly parallel to the highway and across a wide expanse of freshly shorn wheat.

As I continued west, dark clouds steadily built up overhead, and I decided to stop early and camp at the Lower St. Mary’s Reservoir campground where I have stayed before. I was feeling tired and headachy, and a bit woozy from the road. Luckily, the campground was not very full, considering that it was Thursday night before the Labour Day weekend, and I was happy to get a large waterfront site with no near neighbours.

It was blessedly peaceful and quiet, and after dinner I took a walk to view the spillway and then decided to walk downriver a ways until a gentle rain started to fall.

It rained through the night, and I woke often, but the rain on my roof is a comforting sound, even in a downpour. My Toyota looked a bit forlorn in the morning, though, covered in leaves and twigs from my campsite’s tall cottonwoods, and a few of those cottonwood leaves were bright yellow, signalling the coming of autumn. As I was leaving, I stopped half way up the gravel road that takes campers from the lower reservoir back up to the prairie level, for this view back down over the area.

It was definitely time to head home, and from here that thought amplified as the Rocky Mountains began to come into view as I travelled west on Alberta Highway 505.

The day brightened as I drew closer to the mountains, and I soaked in my last views of the magnificent Alberta prairie.

I turned onto Highway 6 North, with a brief stop in Pincher Creek, and then onto Highway 3 West, first passing the site of the enormous and devastating Frank Slide,

and then stopping to photograph the gorgeous Mt. Tecumseh and Crowsnest Mountain.

I crossed into B.C. at the Crowsnest Pass and was quite frankly astounded anew by my province’s incredible mountain scenery. I have driven the wonderful Highway 3 across southern B.C. several times before, but the mountains seemed to have grown in my absence! I greatly enjoyed the drive along forested slopes and river valleys, passed quickly through the towns of Sparwood, Fernie, Elko and Cranbrook, and then decided to camp at the small and well-remembered Yahk Provincial Park where I have stayed before. Inexpensive and convenient, with large and reasonably private sites, this campground is located beside a lovely section of the Moyie River where I sat and watched bats swoop and swerve over the river as dusk fell.

I woke early again, ready for my second-to-last day of driving. It was a beautiful day, with a bright blue sky, and I stopped briefly in Creston for this last photo of a grain elevator. Built in the mid 1930’s, it stored wheat, oats, and barely that were grown in the fertile and extensive agricultural lands of the Creston Valley.

As I continued westward I enjoyed the rising and falling curves of the highway as I took in more views of forested mountain slopes, sparkling river valleys, and rocky pinnacles. Unfortunately, photos do not do justice to the immensity of the mountains, but they do capture the beauty of this small alpine lake at Kootenay Pass, looking towards the west,

and then from the other side of the lake looking east.

I made a stop in Greenwood, one of my favourite B.C. small towns, to visit “my house”** (see link at the end of this post),

and later I made my first ever stop in the town of Midway, where I checked out their riverside campground for future reference. It was a nice place to stop, eat some lunch, and rest a bit while watching the lazy flow of the Kettle River, and there is a riverside trail starting from here that I might walk someday…

Here, I made the obligatory stop at the top of Anarchist Mountain for the view down into Okanagan Valley,

with a zoomed-in view of the town of Osoyoos, and yet more mountains ahead!

I followed the S-curves down to Osoyoos and considered stopping for a swim, but home was now like a magnet, pulling ever-stronger the closer I got to the coast so I zipped straight through town, rose steeply up out of the valley, and later stopped for this view as the road swooped down again.

I stopped again on the approach to Cawston and Keremeos. Look at those mountains! It was like I was seeing them for the first time. Below is the Similkameen River and nestled ahead in the narrow V of the river’s valley is the town of Keremeos with its vineyards, orchards, and roadside fruit stands.

It was still early in the day, and I had thought that I might drive all the way to Vancouver, arriving near dark, but I was feeling tired. I then considered driving as far as Manning Park, but I knew from previous experience that it might be impossible to find a campsite there on the Labour Day weekend so I checked out the Prikard Creek Recreation Site campground, located just west of Keremeos, and luckily there was a site for me, and an excellent one at that! The campground was right beside the beautiful Similkameen River, and the air was hot and dry and smelled of Ponderosa Pine.

I had a wonderful and relaxing late-afternoon swim, entering upstream, floating downstream with the current, and then walking back upriver to do it over and over again. I felt happy here, and I took a rare selfie as it was my very last night on the road. I also took a last photo of the Similkameen River as the sun lowered in the west. It was to be my last photo of my long journey across Canada and back.

The Very Last Leg of the Last Leg!

In my memory, my campout at Prikard Creek was the end of my epic roadtrip, but of course I still had the very last leg to complete, a further 320 km to reach home! I left shortly after dawn, and I had the beautiful highway through more scenic B.C. wilderness mostly to myself all the way to where Highway 3 joins Highway 1 just east of Hope. From there, the traffic began to build considerably, and soon there was a thick stream of holiday-weekend traffic, still travelling at speed, as we crossed over the Patullo Bridge and continued westward towards the city. (“It would be a shame to have an accident now!” I thought!) Finally, I exited the stress of Highway 1 and crossed Boundary Road into Vancouver. Phew! Then, after a last half hour of driving, my trusty Toyota and I were finally back home, safe and sound, having travelled 17,787 kilometres, over two and a half months, together across Canada and back. Phew indeed!

So, would I do it again? When I first returned I would have answered, “No way, once was enough!”, but now, months later, I’m not so sure!

Thank you for joining me on the journey, and I hope to see you on the next! 🙂

P.S. I have just realized that the very first and the very last photos of my trip were both of the Similikameen River, taken two and a half months apart. Here, at Bromley Rock Provincial Park in June, the river had been running fast and high with spring runoff, and it was so beautiful – deep, clear, green, and sparkling!

** This following blog post, from a previous drive across Highway 3, has some really great photos of Greenwood (including “my house”), as well as a bit of history of this former mining town. There are also photos and details of other great stops along the exceptionally wonderful B.C. Highway 3. https://christineswalkabout.com/2022/01/05/western-road-trip-a-magnificent-start-heading-east-on-highway-3/,

And, here is a link to the post which follows the one above, with great photos of sights along Highway 3 east of Yahk, (mountains!), and then south on Alberta Highway 6 to the Waterton Lakes National Park area and beyond. https://christineswalkabout.com/2022/01/07/western-road-trip-into-southwestern-alberta-mountains-and-prairie-together-oh-my/

Prairie Highways, Harvests, and Headaches- Postcards from Canada

Well, it’s almost the end of January, 2026, and I am finally getting back to writing some posts from my 2025 cross-Canada road trip. As my loyal readers know, posts from that trip were few and far between because I was mostly camping, with limited access to power and wifi, and because of technical issues with WordPress. The “Headaches” referenced in the title above are still on-going, months later, but various medical assessments have been made and treatment options are being explored. Despite those headaches, which began in Nova Scotia and worsened as I began my journey homeward, I continued to make the most of my travels and to appreciate all that I saw and experienced. I’m not quite sure how to best organize upcoming posts, but I have to start somewhere so I will begin with heading west, homeward, from my last post written in Winnipeg. We’ll see how it goes after that!

Heading West – From Manitoba into Saskatchewan

My last post was written in Winnipeg where I had  decided stay in the same excellent airbnb that I had stayed in on my way east.  It was late August and I had been suffering from daily headaches for about a month. They had worsened in severity as I travelled across northern Ontario, and I was at the point where I felt that I might need medical attention.  I had the entire peaceful and quiet main floor of a small house to myself so I rested a lot, did laundry, downloaded photos, worked on my blog post, and rested some more.   The following morning, feeling somewhat refreshed, I decided to carry on with my journey so I quickly made my way out of the city and onto wonderfully quiet secondary highways that were as straight as an arrow.

I could drive with speed, and yet look all around at fields that stretched far to the horizon, including this immense field of sunflowers! What an expanse!

I walked a short way into that field,

and it was a bit freaky because there were so many large grasshoppers flying about, as well as literally hundreds and hundreds of black beetles on the ground, moving very quickly every which way all around my feet, and they could jump forward at least eight inches!  I’ve never seen anything like it!  I dragged my focus away from those bizarre beetles, up to the large nodding sunflower heads that were heavy with seed, and I was charmed to find one late bloomer that was doing things in its own way and on its own time.

Continuing westwards, I passed fields and fields of ripe wheat, and of corn that was taller than me.

I also stopped often to photograph the built environment of grain storage elevators, some historic, tall and angular, clad in faded wood, and others newer, round, metallic, and grouped in clusters. Whether old or new, they act as vertical punctuation marks on this horizontal landscape, and they proclaim modern human dominion over the prairie.

I made a stop at the small St. Paul’s Anglican Church (1910) in Baie St. Paul and admired the peaceful lines of its interior architecture. These small prairie churches are almost always unlocked and well cared for, and they evoke the hopes, labours, and community connections of generations past.

After a morning of quiet roads, the Google Lady directed me to the Trans Canada Highway for a (thankfully) short part of the drive, and then I was back on secondary highways again, heading roughly northwest, with the roads now losing their arrow-straightness as they began to curve and rise and fall around small hills on the approach to Riding Mountain National Park.  It was a beautiful drive, but the park itself and the campground were a little underwhelming.  It was still early in the day, but I was already feeling tired, and a headache was growing. I took a slow easy walk along the lakefront, read for a bit, and had a quiet dinner in camp. I retired early, but my headache was growing to massive proportions and I had a rough night.

The following morning, just as I was leaving Riding Mountain, I got a “How are you doing?” call from a kind friend and I immediately and tearfully blurted out my worries about my ongoing headaches. She got in touch with a nurse practitioner and urged me to visit an ER for a CT and bloodwork. I decided that it was past time to finally seek some medical help so rather than continuing northwest, I decided to head southwest to Regina to visit a hospital. I was still determined, though, to enjoy the beautiful prairie landscapes as I travelled. It was a gorgeous morning, and I enjoyed the quiet highway that curved up and over low hills, past golden wheat fields, and beside many ponds and small lakes that were edged with deep green.

Here, I felt lucky to see a beaver swimming across a placid pond that reflected the bright morning sky.

Sandy Lake looked like a great little town,

and I loved the curving lines of shorn wheat on this field.

I continued to stop often for postcard photos as I made my way west and crossed into Saskatchewan. The fields of canola that had been in bright yellow bloom when I travelled east in June were now a mottled mix of green and pale burgundy, with long pods filled with seed,

and in some fields purple-tinged clover filled the air with sweet scent.

By early afternoon I was driving along on the very straight Highway 22, past the huge mine buildings and tailings of the world’s largest potash mine near Esterhazy,

and about 80 km later I stopped for a much-needed lunch break in a small shaded Lions park at the far end of the tiny town of Neudorf. A large RV with B.C. plates was parked there and a couple sat at one of the picnic tables. They noticed my B.C. plates and struck up a conversation, and we were soon aware of an amazing coincidence. I had met this couple, Jack and Stella, briefly, on a trail in Manitoba’s Spruce Woods Provincial Park exactly two months prior and here we were together in a small park beside a little-travelled highway in the-middle-of-nowhere-Saskatchewan. Even more amazing is that when I first met them I had been walking the last section of trail with a couple from Winnipeg, Jill and Ralf, who had later visited me in my campsite, and afterwards they had also visited with Jack and Stella! My call on this very morning from “a kind friend” had been from Jill, who was following my travels via my blog and texts, with Ralf beside her! So, in the huge expanse that is Canada, what are the odds that five people who met one day on a trail in Manitoba, should somehow connect together on one day a full two months later? Not very likely at all! When we realized the connection, Jack and Stella and I called Jill and Ralf to say hello and texted them a selfie. It truly was an amazing coincidence!

I continued on the drive west and enjoyed the sweeping swoosh of the descent into the beautiful Qu’Appelle River valley.

In Fort Qu’Appelle, I visited its museum which features one of the oldest buildings on the Canadian prairies – an original building from the Hudsons Bay Company trading post that was built here in 1864.

I didn’t stay long at the museum, as the day was now very warm and I was beginning to tire, but I did take time to admire the beautiful artistry of colourful Métis beadwork, and of a buffalo hide painting, done in a traditional style, by Wayne Goodwill, a former chief of the Standing Buffalo Dakota First Nation. Chief Goodwill’s ancestors had arrived in Canada in 1867 with Sitting Bull who was his great-great-grand uncle.

I drove down Fort Qu’Appelle’s main street and stopped to photograph the Hudsons Bay Company Store which was built here of brick and stone in 1897. It is is oldest surviving retail HBC store building in Canada. There, I ran into Jack and Stella again, and they urged me to visit a wonderful bakery down the street. Full of locals who were seated at the front of the cafe, and owned by Brad, the butter tarts and saskatoon berry tarts were delicious!

Reluctantly, I soon made my way onto busier roads and then Highway 1 into Regina where I visited a very crowded ER. Four hours later, the waiting room was just as full as when I had arrived, with new people constantly arriving that looked worse off than me. I was tired, and I had a headache (!) so I decided to leave. It was early evening, and I considered camping stealth in a residential district close to the hospital, but I was feeling anxious in the city so I decided to head some sixty kilometres south to the small town of Milestone to camp in their municipal campground. En-route, I stopped to photograph an old red barn that was bathed in the golden light of the lowering sun,

while directly across the highway, to the west, that light filtered through the dust raised by a pickup truck as it drove fast along a gravel road.

And, as I arrived in Milestone, that setting sun cast a rose-gold light onto railroad tracks that stretched toward the horizon.

I had a better night in Milestone, woke early, cooked up a breakfast, and then continued westward for a great morning of prairie driving. The road stretched ahead of me, with endless views all around, and I stopped often, including here,

where I was curious about something. On the left side of the highway, for many miles, were acres and acres of golden wheat, ready for harvest,

and on the other side was a rusty-coloured crop that I didn’t recognize so I walked a short way into the field to discover Saskatchewan lentils!

I have written before that the prairies are certainly not boring! I loved the rolling terrain of this expansive hay field, recently shorn,

and prairie machinery often caught my eye.

There were windmills, and transport trucks,

isolated farmhouses,

and reminders of days gone by. Here, all was silent as I walked through tall grasses to explore an old homestead.

I stopped in the town of Assiniboia to photograph railway tracks and cars,

and I was inordinately thrilled to get a free soft serve cone with a 30 L fill up at the Co-op. Bonus! Such simple pleasures to be had on the road! I continued, westward on Highway 13,

until I reached Ponteix, a great little Saskatchewan town that I had stopped in on my way east. Their historic grain elevator is so striking!

I made my way to their excellent municipal campground, which is green and nicely shaded, to have a healthy lunch, a bit of a rest, and a shower. Luckily, their outdoor public pool was open so I had a refreshing and very happy swim while kids played around me and their seated moms chatted with each other. Feeling like a new person after my swim, I continued west, with a quick stop in Cadillac to photograph yet another beautiful grain elevator. I had stopped here too when heading east, and had camped in Cadillac’s municipal campground. I really do like small town Saskatchewan!

I passed quite a few oil derricks, small dinosaurs feeding on dinosaurs,

and at this stop to photograph another, I again found a new type of crop that I hadn’t previously noticed.

I guessed from the size of the pod, and the leaf shape that is particular to legumes, that maybe they were chick peas, and I was right!

I continued westward and was excited to finally approach the familiar and well-remembered territory of the hills and range lands of the Frenchman River valley, and the town of Eastend where I planned to camp. I’ve stayed in the municipal campground here twice before, on previous prairie road trips, and had made friends in town with a group of seniors who sit together and chat on a Main Street front porch. The seniors weren’t sitting out today so after choosing my campsite I decided to make the short trip to visit Chimney Coulee, some six kilometres out of town along a curving gravel road that took me up out of the valley, with sweeping views down and back,

and views to the west,

and far distant views to the east.

Chimney Coulee was once, briefly, a Hudsons Bay Company trading post. It was established in 1871, but was abandoned after only a few years because of frequent skirmishes in the area between parties of Blackfoot and Assiniboine and Cree warriors. Later in the decade, some sixty families of Métis settled in the area, and in 1877 a Northwest Mounted Police detachment of three men was established here as a stopover between the larger Fort Walsh and Wood Mountain detachments. A principal task of the detachment was to run patrols and to keep an eye on Sitting Bull and his thousands of Sioux followers who were camped south of Chimney Coulee, near present-day Eastend. The NWMP detachment closed in 1887, and over time the Metis left the area, leaving behind their house foundations and stone chimneys for which the coulee is named. The last chimney collapsed in 1915, and there is very little to see today, beyond several information boards. Trees and grasses have overtaken the site, but it was still a beautiful and worthwhile stop.

I decided to continue a ways further beyond Chimney Coulee, and the road rose higher and up to a gorgeous and beckoning expanse of rolling prairie grassland. The photo below, sadly, does not even begin to do justice to how beautiful that place was, and how enticing the road ahead.

The road whispered, “keep going”, and I wanted to say yes, but my decision and strong conviction was, “I’ll come here again.”

I turned my Toyota around and enjoyed the return journey, still exulting in the views. I made a last stop here,

for a view across to the deep green band of cottonwoods that line both sides of the Frenchman River in its valley. The town of Eastend is hidden beyond the trees, but its old wooden grain elevator can be seen to the left, between the trees and the hills behind. My campsite was down there somewhere, positioned right beside and above the river, and I now knew that Sitting Bull and his people had also camped somewhere in the near vicinity!

I made dinner, and then took an evening walk through the campground and alongside the river to the town. It was a peaceful way to end another day on the road, full of harvest-ready prairie vistas, from Milestone Manitoba to Eastend Saskatchewan.

P.S. A fond hello to Jill and Ralf, Jack and Stella! 🙂

P.P.S. Apologies for the excessive length of this post! I’ll aim for shorter posts going forward. 🙂

I Kiss My Toyota Everyday – Reflections and Gratitude

Visiting Family in Quebec, Northern Quebec to Ontario, and on to Manitoba, and Feeling Much Gratitude for our Spectacular Country

August 24, 2025

Hello everyone.  Yes, I kiss my Toyota everyday, and often many times a day!  I kiss my fingers and then pat the steering wheel and say, “Thank you Toyota.  I love you Toyota”, and sometimes I say “Sorry Toyota,” when the road is extra-bumpy or the day is hot and the drive is long.  I finally looked at my trip meter today and I have driven 14,975 km since I first left Vancouver (!), with still at least another 2303 km to go if I drive the most direct route home, which I won’t, as I prefer the secondary highways where I can take my time.  My trusty and valiant 2007 Toyota Highlander is a star! (Youtube’s Car Angel, a used-car expert, says “Best car ever made, period.”)  Here we are, this morning, stopped again at the longitudinal centre of Canada, just east of Winnipeg, but this time heading west.

I am so far behind on my posts, and I hope to publish some this winter, but a quick summary of the last few weeks is that, after visiting the Maritimes (if possible I would have doubled or tripled my time there), and after a quick tour around the Gaspé peninsula, I spent a week visiting my dear aunts and uncles and a cousin in Quebec, at Baie-Comeau and around Lac St. Jean.  It has been seven years since I last saw them, and I was lovingly embraced and received (and very well fed!).  What a joy it was to see them, and to exchange news and tell stories and talk from morning ‘til night, ensemble en français.  Merci à tous!  Je vous aime!

If I had more time (and more stamina for busy urban areas and complicated, traffic-filled roads) I would have also visited aunts, uncles, and cousins who live in and around Montreal and Quebec City.  But, while touring the Gaspé peninsula, I noticed that the fireweed was full with deeply wine-coloured seed pods, and showing the last of its flowers, and  a single dry leaf blowing across the highway almost had me in tears. “Time to turn back,” it said.

So, after my stay with relatives I began the journey westward in earnest and drove over 2300 kilometres in four days.  First, I travelled from Lac St. Jean to a campsite at Lac Normand, east of Val d’Or.  What a brilliant day of driving that was, with blue skies and bright white clouds reflected in every placid lake that I passed.  Here are just two of many,

and here is Lac Norman as I sat on a large granite boulder on the shore and watched day turn to evening,

and then to sunset.

The next morning, I thought to take a photo of my “pour la route” Quebecois gifts – wild Lac St. Jean blueberries, picked with Richard and Paulette, a jar of caramel made by my Tante Liette, and canned moose and partridge given to me by my Tante Flo.  Merci!

The next day’s drive, from Lac Normand to Wawa was equally beautiful with forests, rivers, lakes, and a few small towns.  I stopped for awhile for wifi at the Cozy Diner in Matheson where I treated myself to a second breakfast of the day, and then couldn’t resist a maple-chocolate-bacon muffin for the road. 

I was googling the possibility of a two-day jaunt north from Cochrane to Moosoonee and Moose Factory, just south of James Bay, by train, but I was too last-minute with my idea and it wasn’t possible to organize reasonably-priced accommodations. Oh well, perhaps another time! (When I taught grades 4 and 5, and we did mapping skills, we would explore a map of Ontario in the Nelson Intermediate Atlas, and one of my questions was always, “How can you get to Moosoonee at B4 (or whatever the grid location was), and the answer was “By train, airplane, or boat – there is no road.”)

So, I carried on west, towards Timmins, and the road was so fun to drive and mostly empty of cars.  As on many days before, music helped to eat up the miles – Elton John, Chris Isaak, and CCR’s Greatest Hits album (especially) were fantastic to drive to, and my Toyota and I were one with the road and the sky and the music.  (I wish I had a “curve in the road” photo to share, or one with a view from a rise, but the one below, on a straight stretch, will have to suffice.)

In Wawa, I camped stealth in town after having a simple dinner and a long walk at the town’s peaceful lakefront park.

The following morning, I felt a strong fondness for this little town, and I decided that I would take a photo of the giant wooden goose that it is famous for.

But the photo that I really wanted, but was too shy to ask for, was of an older couple, dressed in matching red-checked shirts, and carrying large cups of Tim Hortons coffee, he in a ball cap. They looked stereotypically very Canadian, and very happy to be on holiday and visiting Wawa’s giant Canada goose!

So, Canada.  What a country!  When I was on my way east, and travelling in Saskatchewan in late June, a few days before Canada Day, a radio host – Dave, “The Voice of Saskatchewan” – was asking listeners to call in and say how proud they are of our country, on a scale of 0-10.  He started off with his own rating of 8.5, saying that he was generally very proud of Canada, but that there were some things to fix.  His first caller, though, said, “Zero.”  Omg, why?  Because, he said, he pays too much in taxes and the “fat cats” in Ottawa waste it and take it for themselves, etc.  He continued on with his whining and complaining so I soon turned it off.  I felt sorry for the fellow, with a glass completely empty instead of, c’mon, at least half full!  I thought to myself, at the time as I continued to drive, that I was also at about 8.5 or 9 on the scale, but after having driven across this great and beautiful country, with its friendly, kind, hardworking and down-to-earth people – young and old, with their families here for generations, or recent immigrants –  I am beyond “ten out of ten” proud of Canada.  That poor fellow.  I think of him sometimes, likely listening to negative news each and every day that skews his perception of reality and makes him angry and unhappy. Turn it off, I would say to him if I could, and look around you and see all of the good things that we have – there is a whole lot to be grateful for in our, not-perfect, but nevertheless exceptional country. 

Now, when I started this post, some hours ago, I had intended to write out a gratitude list, but I will save that for another time as the list is long! Instead, here are several more photos from my drive across northern Quebec and Ontario.

There was some industry too, but not much, as I passed through miles of beautiful wilderness. There were high-power transmission lines that cut across the land, or followed the highway in places, and I passed several mines including the massive open pit gold mine at Malartic. As well, I had to stop quite a few times where there was road construction going on. I don’t envy any of the workers those hard jobs!

I loved this stop on the shore of Lake Superior as I neared Thunder Bay (so fun to scamper on those rocks),

and after Thunder Bay (which is aptly named) I lost the sunny skies to dark clouds, and episodes of light and sometimes heavy rain for much of the day.

But that was okay. Quieter music kept me company – Simon & Garfunkel, Neil Young, Patsy Cline, and Roy Orbison, among others – as I focussed on driving the increasingly very busy Trans Canada/Ontario 17 and 17A Highways across the border into Manitoba, and on to a campground at Falcon Beach. Then, this morning, those near-constant forests on both sides of the highway disappeared, and I emerged onto the Prairies, with views that stretch to the horizon in every direction. Hello Prairies!

Tomorrow, my Toyota and I are off to Riding Mountain National Park, (our National Parks, and Provincial Parks, and their staff, are definitely on my gratitude list – we should make more parks!), and then I will continue to make my way, not too fast and not too slow, back to Vancouver. Thank you, dear Toyota, thank you, Canada, and thank you very much to everyone for reading. Xxoo.

The Most Beautiful Place in Nova Scotia?  – Postcards from Canada

Cape Sable Island, Shelburne, Kejimkujik National Park – Seaside

Hello everyone.  I am currently in Halifax (my last morning here), and would like to get this post out after many trials and tribulations tech-wise (both my camera and iPad have been acting wonky – yesterday I went to the Apple Store, Best Buy, two Walmarts, and Henrys Cameras, with limited success at solving the issues, and that’s not how I wanted to spend my time in Halifax!).  It’s been a bit of an odd time here in Nova Scotia, with some low energy and spirits on my part, which is not surprising considering how much activity and excitement I experienced on PEI and Les Îles-de-la-Madeleine.  Also, I have been on the road for quite a while now, so a bit of road fatigue is to be expected.  But, I have definitely seen some beautiful places here, and have visited excellent museums where I really connected emotionally with the history.  (Posts (hopefully) to come in the future!)  For now, I’d like to jump ahead to a very special place that may very well be the most beautiful place in Nova Scotia.  This opinion is subjective, of course, especially since I have seen just a very tiny fraction of what this province has to offer with all of its varied landscapes, but to me it was perfection.  Let me take you there, with a few stops, first, on the way…

After a day of sightseeing down the Fundy coast, and with some great long-weekend-holiday-Monday classic rock playing on the radio as I drove a very fun and scenic, curving coastal road, I arrived at Cape Sable Island, via a causeway, to see the tallest lighthouse in Nova Scotia.  Uh, it’s way out there, accessible only by sea!

Okay, so I didn’t do my research well enough!  I was still happy to be on the island, and I found a convenient picnic table by the sea for my dinner (with the lighthouse, teeny-tiny in the very far distance). 

It was a peaceful place, and there were some lovely photos to be had as a I walked out to a dock over the water,

and looked back over a calm bay. 

I chatted with a local couple who were out for a drive, and they told me that sometimes people camp at a local beach parking lot so I went to Hawk Beach, with its long stretch of white sand on one side, and a high bench of cobbles on the other,

but I didn’t think that it was a good spot to overnight. I then checked out the beach parking at Daniel’s Head which looked to be perfect.  It was still early evening, so I walked down the beach a ways,

 and then a long way up the beach,

enjoying the breeze and the sound of the sea and gulls.  On the return, I watched piping plovers hunting for food at the tide line.  They nest in the nearby dune area, and it seemed like the adults were supervising their young as they moved back and forth between patches of seaweed.

As the sun set, I assessed the situation (I have been camping in established campgrounds and it was only my second time on this trip to camp stealth) – two other SUVs, a respectable-looking van, and a smallish motor home.  The other occupants and I gave each other nods of acknowledgment that meant, “Yes, staying the night”, and so I settled in for a very good sleep as night fell and fog started to roll in from the sea.  The next morning, this is the sun rising, above the dune behind my car, and through the fog.

I was the first up, made breakfast quietly, and then went for a morning beach walk.  I crossed over the dune to this view,

and began my walk up the beach.

Fishing boats were just visible on the horizon,

and past the rocks,

a group of seals seemed to be dozing, with a few slowly waking up.

As I walked, I was diverted by the beautiful forms and colours of seaweed and shells on the beach,

and by glances back to the sun on the water.

I did not want to stop! But, there were more places to see so eventually, reluctantly, I turned back, returned to my car, and headed to my planned stop at the town of Shelburne. Known for its historic waterfront, Shelburne has many beautiful old homes and buildings, including 17 homes that were built before 1800. In 1783, after the American Revolution, around 400 families, loyal to England, moved here as a group to settle in British-controlled Nova Scotia, and many more followed in subsequent years to establish a community of fishers and ship builders.

The orange building, Coyle House, was built in 1784, and the light blue house beyond it was built in 1785.

The elegant Matthew Dripps House was also built in 1785,

as was the very large Ross Thomson House.

There were other beautifully restored and maintained buildings on the waterfront, including the Shelburne Barrel Factory, which is said to be the last working, privately-owned cooperage in Canada, and for 41 years it was run by the only female cooper in the world.

There was also the Dory Shop Museum building,

and so many characterful wooden houses to see.

I really enjoyed my walk here, in the quiet of the morning, on a beautiful day, and was glad that I had arrived on the early side when just a few others were around – locals walking their dogs, and shops just opening.

Again, I wanted to linger, and stay a while, but I carried on to my next planned stop, a hike to the sea in Kejimkujik National Park – Seaside. By the time I arrived at the trailhead, it was getting close to high noon, and was very warm. I had already walked a fair bit that morning, at the beach and in Shelburne, so I decided that I would just do the 2.6 km trail in and along a short section of coast, take a few photos, and hike straight back out again. The first two kilometres were on a level trail, surfaced with crush which I hate because of the noise it makes, but the views and the plants kept me happy, especially the wild roses which have been a constant for me on this cross-Canada trip. I have seen them in every province, and their bright pink colour and gorgeous scent always cheer and enliven me.

There were also bog plants, which I love, including pitcher plants and a white orchid that was new to me and very delicate and pretty.

And then I arrived at this view, and saw a long white beach in the distance, stretching out far along the coast.

I descended to the first sandy cove,

and then chose to walk south to the next small cove,

with its large rounded stones, some stained by algae.

The stones were so fun to walk and balance on, and I stopped often when my attention was caught by interesting lines, textures, and shapes.

There were small seaweed-covered rocks off-shore,

including one for the birds,

and I made my way carefully over the slippery seaweed for this shot of a balancing rock.

I turned back north to begin the return trail, but that long bright white sand beach was still stretched out in the distance so I just had to go that way. I crossed the sandy beach of the first cove and found the trail that led over rocks and a short boardwalk, past the iconic National Park red chairs, and then on to the next little cove.

The rocks were so beautiful!

The trees, the curves of sand, the colour of the water, and the plants were all beautiful. I was beyond thrilled, and everything that I saw, far and near, was exquisite and perfect. I walked,

and walked,

and walked,

and stopped for a closer view of these amazing plantains, growing in a few inches of sand, just metres from the sea.

The next cove was gorgeous,

the granite rocks were veined with quartz and sparkling flakes of mica,

and this view nearly stopped my heart!

Seriously, I was in love, and ecstasy, and awe. I continued on,

and on,

until I finally stopped here,

atop a large mound of sun-warmed granite to have a rest and a snack and to look at the sea and the expanse ahead.

I lay down for a while, my face tucked away from the sun and under my hat, and I think that I slept for a few moments. As on my morning fog-beach walk, and my time in Shelburne, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to go further. But, of course, eventually, (or almost always), a return is necessary, so I set off, back south, so incredibly grateful to have seen this extraordinarily beautiful place. I took photos on the way back, and will include a few in this collage,

but this deer will get a full frame, even though she is distant and not well-lit or in good focus. What a lovely surprise she was, browsing there in what felt, to me, to possibly be the most beautiful place in all of Nova Scotia.

Now, it is well past morning, and I want to visit the Immigration Museum in Halifax before I leave for my next destination. I think that I may not be able to post again on this cross-Canada trip, as time, etc. is very limited and technical issues still plague me. Tomorrow, I am off to Cape Breton Island, but sadly all Nova Scotia trails have been closed due to extreme fire risk. (They were ordered closed as of 4 p.m. on the day that I visited Kejimkujik – thank goodness that I was able to visit that magnificent place!). So, I will spend a bit less time in Nova Scotia than I had initially planned. After Cape Breton, I may revisit PEI for a few days to see a few places that I wanted to see and missed, and to have a last swim at a favourite beach. Then, it’s off to the north coast of New Brunswick (with lots of seascapes to look forward to there), a drive around the Gaspé Peninsula, visits to relatives in Northern Quebec, and then, finally, homeward….

Thank you so much for following along on these few Postcards from Canada posts – I appreciate the company!

All the best, Christine. XXoo

Letting Go of Chronology, and Jumping Ahead to Eastern PEI – Postcards from Canada

Panmure Island Provincial Park and Lighthouse, Sir Andrew Macphail Homestead, Point Prim Lighthouse, Cape Bear Lighthouse, Murray Harbour, and Guernsey Cove

I still have posts to write about the exceptionally beautiful Les Îles de la Madeleine.  I loved, loved, loved it there.  I spent six nights, and was planning to add additional nights, but on my second-to-last day a crown fell off of my tooth, and the closest dental appointment I could get was in Charlottetown PEI.  I was sad to leave Les Îles without having seen all that I wanted to see, but I also felt happy to return to PEI.  Something about this island really calls to me, and it feels like it could be home.  I occasionally stop to photograph houses with “For Sale” signs!  I was excited when my ferry from Les Îles began to sail along the eastern coast of PEI, and from the deck of the ship I was able to recognize the beaches and red cliffs of Basin Head, and then Red Point where I had camped, and then the lighthouse at Souris.  

Once off the ferry, I drove directly south to Panmure Island Provincial Park in order to secure a good campsite, and I got a great one, large and nicely shaded.  I am loving being outside so much (except for the mosquitoes, which thankfully aren’t too bad), and everything camp-wise tends to go very smoothly.  I’m a pro now at this nomadic existence!

After settling in, and a quick lunch, I headed off to visit the beautiful Panmure Island Lighthouse which is the oldest wooden lighthouse on PEI.

Built in 1853, it has gabled windows and is four stories high.  I toured the inside, and enjoyed the lines and angles created by the steep ladders and the lighthouse’s octagonal shape.

At the top there was a great view out to the causeway which connects Panmure Island to the rest of PEI .  A long sand beach, backed by dunes, faces the open sea, and a red silty and sand beach is on the side facing St. Mary’s Bay.

I next headed to the beach for these views towards the lighthouse, 

and later towards the red cliffs at the far south end of the beach.  

Then, I had a wonderful afternoon at Panmure that I would repeat on each of my three days here:  first, a long walk on the beach, then a swim in the sea (with its perfect temperature and rolling waves), then a peaceful dinner in a very quiet campground, and finally an evening walk.  It was a good, slow-down kind of place to be.

The following day, I made the hour-long drive into Charlottetown and did not receive good news at the dentist.  Afterwards, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with traffic and tour Charlottetown, so I decided to make my way back to Panmure by the secondary roads, following the coast as much as possible.  I was waylaid, for a time, by a long call with a friend, next to this beautiful bay, which cheered me,

and then I carried on, thinking that I might visit the Orwell Historic Village, but I was diverted by a “Nature Trail” sign on the same road.  I ended up at the Sir Andrew Macphail Homestead, the beautiful home of an influential, early twentieth-century PEI doctor, professor, and author.  I toured the interior of the home, decorated with period-pieces, photographs, and art, but mostly I enjoyed the gardens, and the nature trail that lead down grassy paths to a forest walk along a brook.  The yellow cut-leafed cone flowers were taller than me!

I continued on to visit the round lighthouse at Point Prim, 

and along the way stopped to photograph lazy rivers, curving roads, and a field where the wheat was an electric mix of yellow and green.

Then, at camp, I had my beach walk, swim, dinner, and then an evening walk, this time along the beach of St. Mary’s Bay, near sunset. 

The finale to the day was this brush stroke of pink cloud in the sky, above the dark trees, viewed from my camp chair.

On my last full day on the southeastern coast of PEI, I drove some new roads, and again stopped often at bridges to view the beautiful rivers.

I visited the Cape Bear Lighthouse, which I didn’t climb, but I enjoyed talking with the young student workers there about its history.

I next drove to the very pretty town of Murray Harbour, with its large and elegant heritage buildings and its riverside harbour.

This cozy shed charmed me and is open to all,

and I also enjoyed a long line of harbour-side storage sheds that were whimsically decorated in a medly of colours and styles.  It seems like a creatively-inclined town!

I wandered slowly along the tree-lined Riverside Drive, looking at the pretty houses. It was peaceful and quiet, and I wanted to stretch out this last day on PEI. On the return to my car, I stopped on the bridge over the Murray River for final views upstream and then down, feeling a little melancholy at having to say goodbye.

I made one more stop, down to Guernsey Cove, where I had this red sand beach all to myself.

I returned to Panmure campground in the afternoon for one last long beach walk, and one last gorgeous and extra-long swim.  The waves were bigger today (so fun!), and the wind was a bit cold but the water was just the right temperature. I met a woman, also playing in the waves, who loves to swim as much as I do.  Originally from Peru, she went back and forth several times between BC and PEI, literally testing the waters.  Though she was brave enough to swim in the very cold Pacific surf at Tofino multiple times, she decided that the PEI swimming suited her best.  I would have to agree! Afterwards, a healthy camp dinner, laundry, a long conversation with my Quebecois neighbours, and a bit of writing. It was a good day, again, on PEI, and I can see why people return here summer after summer for their holidays.  I will miss it, and hope to return.  Thank you, Prince Edward Island, for all that you offered this traveller.

P.S. I still have at least one more PEI post to write, as well as posts from almost every other province (yikes!).  Perhaps they’ll get written, perhaps not.  As I’ve said before, wifi and power and time are limited, but it does feel good to record these memories, and to share these postcards from Canada.

P.P.S. For my family – there was an Acadian singer and musician performing on board my return ferry from Les Îles-de-la-Madeleine and she sang, “Dans ma Belle Petite Maison dans ma Vallée.” ❤️

Les Îles-de-la-Madeleine, Part One – Postcards from Canada

Ferry Crossing, Île du Havre Aubert and Île du Cap Aux Meules

I was excited to drive onto the Madeleine II ferry for the five hour crossing to Cap Aux Meules which is the second largest, and most populated, of the Îles-de-la-Madeleine. It was a calm and beautiful day, with smooth sailing, and I enjoyed exploring the ship’s many lounges and outdoor decks.

Everyone was in a holiday mood, and this passenger was feeling very relaxed indeed!

I had hoped to get some blogging done, but when I asked about wifi, la madame a dit (avec un sourire), “On se connecte avec la mer.” I read, wandered, sorted photos, and wandered, and I was very excited for the first views of Île d’Entrée which is the only populated island that is not connected to the other islands of the archipelago. Here is a view from our closest passing,

and soon there were views of Cap aux Meules from the other side of the ship.

We headed for the Port du Cap Aux Meules, and had great views of the harbour as we entered and then waited for the first levels of vehicles to unload.

The harbour area and the town of Cap aux Meules (the main administrative and service centre of the islands) were very busy with people and traffic, and I went directly to my excellent and peaceful campsite at Barachois Camping on the other side of the island. My exploring would start the following day with a trip to Île Havre Aubert which is the southernmost island in the archipelago. It is connected to the island of Cap aux Meules by a highway that sits atop a long sandspit,

with the beach and sea on one side and a wide lagoon on the other which is bounded on its far side by another long spit. (It is super interesting to look at the geography of the islands using google maps, satellite view.)

On Les Îles I had expected to see long beaches, grassy dunes, lagoons, red sea cliffs, and colourful houses and characterful settlements, but the hills and the forests of the islands were a surprise to me. As I arrived on Île Havre Aubert, and approached its namesake town, I passed a sign for La Butte St. Antoine, a tall and steep grassy hill that called to me. I climbed up to here,

heading for the far peak, and noticed that a road can take cars half way up! But, it felt really good to climb after all of the level trails I walked on PEI! From the top there were views down to another, lower butte (de la Croix), and beyond that to the curving beach of La Grave and the long line of Sandy Hook spit in the distance.

I walked the trail down and then up to the top of Butte de la Croix, with views back to the higher butte and its grey and pink cliff slashing down to the sea.

This is a zoomed in view of La Grave below. It is a former fishing village, with its grey cedar-shake heritage buildings now housing art galleries, craft and gift shops, restaurants and boutiques.

I drove into La Grave, but it was very busy with people strolling and cars looking for parking. I found a spot, but had little desire to stroll with the tourists, so I went to the wonderful high beach of stones behind the shops, with views forward up the beach towards a headland, and looking back towards the buttes.

Next I drove to the harbour, with a stop on the hill heading up out of La Grave, for a great view back,

and then another stop to gaze across the shallow basin of Havre Amherst to the dunes of Sandy Hook spit, my next destination.

And here is the Sandy Hook beach! Looking first to the west,

then to the east.

Wow! The spit is around 6 km long and I walked about halfway, and was very happy indeed. I walked to around here, with views towards Île d’Entrée,

before turning for the walk back.

The strong wind was pushing dry grains of sand at speed over the darker wet grains, creating wispy, ever-shifting, and phantom-like ribbons of sand towards me. In places, the dry sand becomes trapped by an object and creates attractive patterns that were fun to photograph.

I found a quiet place for lunch, by the lagoon and out of the wind, and then I went for a walk along the Point à Margarite where I found lovely solitude, beautiful views, and then a patch of wild raspberries, perfect for dessert.

I continued along the south coast of Île Havre Aubert to the lighthouse at Cap du Sud,

and then along the west coast, loving the drive and the views of colourful houses scattered here and there over the undulating landscape. I made a quick stop at the beginning of Plage de l’Ouest where kite surfers were making the most of the wind. (You can click on any photo for a larger view.)

Then, I took the Rue de la Montagne east up into the hills, and through forest, to cut across the centre of the island, and for a few moments I felt like I could be on a B.C. Gulf Island. It was a very pretty drive!

I rejoined the main road, Highway 199, to return to Île Cap Aux Meules where I decided to explore several sites on the west side of the island before heading to my campsite. I headed for the Anse de l’Étang du Nord, where I admired this beautiful sculpture entitled, “Les Pecheurs”,

and then I continued to the lighthouse at Cap Hérissé which sits atop dramatically-sculpted and high red cliffs.

The views were spectacular from every angle as I walked all around and away from the lighthouse and along the cliffs.

In the distance I could see a small ridge of buttes,

and though I was beginning to feel tired I couldn’t resist the walk there, and then the climb up.

The wind waving through the grasses and flowers, the views, the sea, the air – it was all so incredibly beautiful and exhilirating!

I felt replete as I made my way back down to the lighthouse,

but I did make one last stop at the clifftops of La Belle Anse where I viewed the cliffs carefully, as common sense and the very graphic sign warns one to do!

And then, finally, I returned to camp, a little tired, a lot happy, and very very grateful to be visiting les très belles Îles-de-la- Madeleine.

Skipping Ahead – I’m Going to Les Iles-de-la-Madeleine!

Red Point Provincial Park, Souris Lighthouse and Beach, Sally’s Beach and Hike, Basin Head Provincial Park

This is my wonderful camping spot at Red Point Provincial Park on the east coast of Prince Edward Island!

I’ve seen seals in the water near to shore, and off shore a small group of gannets (one of my very favourite birds) dive at speed into the sea for their breakfast. This is my breakfast today – pancakes inspired by some Haskap berrries that I picked at a U-pick yesterday.

Yesterday, I also decided to visit Les Isles-de-la-Madeleine, a wind-swept archipelago of twelve islands formed of low red cliffs, dunes, and long spits of sand. It is located some 134 km north of PEI, and I will be on the 1:30 p.m. ferry today for the five hour journey. I have always wanted to visit there, and considered it when planning my drive across Canada, but I had decided that it would just be too much to add to this already very long trip. But, yesterday I was in the town of Souris, just south of here, to visit the lighthouse and beach,

and from the beach I saw the ferry from the isles coming into the harbour.

Hmmm. Maybe I should go? I continued south to the lovely, small, tucked away Sally’s Beach Provincial Park to have my picnic lunch and to walk a trail there. It was a red sand beach,

and the trail to the far point led first on a boardwalk, then along a mowed path, and then through a pleasing forest,

with peek-a-boo views of a large bay on one side, the rocky reef at the end of the point,

and then views back towards Sally’s beach.

By the time I had returned to Souris (after the fun U-pick in the warm afternoon sun), I had decided to go to Les Isles if I could arrange it. I used the town’s library to access the internet to organize sailings and my first few nights of camping, and to cancel my few Nova Scotia bookings. I was going! Then, gas, and groceries in town, and back to my lovely campground to struggle with WordPress and try to write a new PEI blog post (I didn’t get very far because of frustratingly poor wifi!). I absolutely love Prince Edward Island (I knew I would), and I am thinking of spending more time on the island when I return from Les Isles. It is rare for me to be impulsive during travel (I am usually 100 % organized), and it is a little disorienting, but also exciting!

Now, here are some photos from my visit yesterday morning to the wonderful Basin Head Provincial Park, located just a five minute drive from my Red Point campground. It is a very popular park and has both red and white sand beaches, red cliffs, a fisheries museum, gift shop, cafe, and ice cream shop. It is also known for its “singing sands”, and teenagers love to jump from the piers into the river outflow (or inflow depending on the tide).

I was the first person to arrive in the parking lot, and I loved the deserted feel of the place before the workers and families arrive. This is the beach and headland to the south of the piers,

and this is the spectacular beach to the north. I headed out in that direction,

with views back as I passed the empty lifeguard chairs.

I had the entire beautiful beach to myself, and I was just thrilled to be there with the sea and the sky, the wind, the waves, the sand, and the dunes.

I walked for almost two kilometres until I neared some shore birds ahead,

and then turned back as I didn’t want to disturb them. The walk back was just as beautiful and inspiring as the walk out had been!

And though I was mostly held rapt by the big open expanses, I also noticed lovely bits of art on the sand, created by nature. Sticks and seaweed, with shadows, and a feather…

The wind was wonderful, strong and warm,

and there was a good amount of surf that increased as I neared the end of my walk.

A few families had now arrived, and the life guards were setting up their stations – the yellow flag means strong swimmers only.

What an exceptional place, and I hope to return for a swim! I have loved every part of PEI that I visited, and I am anxious to share them with you, but that will have to wait until I return from Les Isles-de-la-Madeleine. So, goodbye from beautiful PEI, and bonjour Quebec et les isles!

Addendum: I am actually on the isles now! (Three days after starting this post, first with bad wifi, then with no access to wifi at all). It’s pouring rain out today, and I finally have good wifi here at my new campground! Tout le monde parle en français autour de moi, et Les Isles sont incroyable, merveilleux, formidable! A bientôt!)

Arriving on PEI – Postcards from Canada

Confederation Bridge, Miscouche Acadian Museum and Parish Church of Saint John the Baptist, West Point Harbour and Lighthouse, and Cedar Dunes Provincial Park

I have wifi at this campground (a small miracle), but no power. It has been next to impossible to create posts while on the road as I am camping almost every night. I had hoped to create posts for each province as I travelled, but that may have to be a winter project as there is no way I will ever catch up!

Thank you to those of you who have written to ask where I am and if I’m okay. All has gone mostly well (just too much driving), and I have been very happy to reach the Maritime Provinces. I loved New Brunswick, especially along the Fundy Coast, and I plan to visit more of New Brunswick when I begin the return trip west, after visiting Nova Scotia. I have decided to not visit Newfoundland and Labrador on this trip after all. I want to make a separate trip to that magnificent province (flying this time) when I am fresh and haven’t already travelled thousands and thousands of kilometres!

Today I crossed over the Confederation Bridge to Prince Edward Island!

That was exciting! What a beautiful bridge, and such an impressive feat of engineering. It was a tremendous experience to cross over that wide wide expanse of deep blue water. I thought of the Micmac peoples who have inhabited Prince Edward Island for over 10,000 years. They would have arrived by sea!

As I approached this low-lying island from near the end of the bridge, and saw the bank of eroding red sand at its edge, I thought, “It will never last! It is so ephemeral, and at the mercy of the sea!” But, once on land, its solidity (such as it is) made itself known. This province could easily rename itself Prince Edward Agricultural Island. Almost right away I was passing fields of shoulder-high corn, and acres of potatoes growing in the red soil. Grain was ripening, hay had just been cut, and lovely old farmhouses stole my heart (even those, and sometimes especially those, that need a little TLC).

I made a stop at the Miscouche Acadian Museum and learned about the long and difficult history of the Acadians, French colonial settlers who were displaced when the British eventually gained control of PEI, formerly known as L’Isle Saint Jean. Here is the very large and beautiful wooden Church of the Parish of Saint John the Baptist in Miscouche.

Near to the church, a quintet of older ladies were sitting and chatting in a shady park. I walked over to ask them if they thought that I should take a secondary road, Highway 11, rather than the principal road, to reach my campground at West Point. “Would it be more scenic?” The short stretch of highway begins just blocks from where they sat, but not one of them has ever been on that road! (Granted, two of them don’t drive.). I was flabbergasted, but didn’t show it of course. Which is more crazy, I wondered as I walked away – my travelling an incredibly ridiculous number of kilometres all of this way across Canada, or someone not having taken a scenic coastal road which is practically in their back yard? I guess the answer depends on who you are!

Of course, I took Highway 11, and it was a wonderful drive that passed many beautiful farms and small settlements, as well as the sea.

I rejoined the principal road leading west, and soon arrived at the small harbour of West Point,

and less than a kilometre from there was the excellent Cedar Dunes Provincial Park, my home for my first two nights on PEI. Here is my trusty Toyota in my site (Thank you Toyota for bringing me all this way!),

and here is the beach just a minute’s walk away!

And I had a swim! What a surprise and such a pleasure! I had assumed that it would be too cold to swim here in the sea, but the temperature was perfect, there were fun waves rolling in, and the buoyancy was divine. I’ll swim again tomorrow!

After a simple dinner in camp I went for a walk along the beach, to the lighthouse and beyond, finding pretty rocks as I went.

It was the kind of PEI summer day that I had long imagined, and I am looking forward to my days ahead here. I’ll say goodnight now, with this last photo of the view from my campsite, near sunset, as I sit and type these words.

Thank you for reading, and goodnight from Atlantic Canada.

Starting from the Middle, Ontario Part I – Postcards from Canada

I guess that I have finally decided to continue with this newest journey, seeing as I am now in Ottawa! I had many reservations about doing a cross-Canada drive before I started out, and those reservations and worries have dogged me since I left Vancouver: I’ve been worried about the long driving distances, the wear and tear on my dear Toyota, the cost of gas and accommodations (although I am camping on most nights, many campgrounds have become quite pricey), the vagaries of the weather (too hot, too cold), the bugs, etc., etc. I have considered turning back west multiple times a day, pretty much every day, as of this writing, even though I passed the geographic centre of Canada, located a short distance east of Winnipeg, many days ago.

But, each morning, despite my misgivings (and a few panicked calls to Brent), I continued to head East, resulting in my arrival here in Ottawa! I had originally planned to begin posting about my cross-Canada trip when in Winnipeg, but I held off because I still wasn’t certain that I wasn’t going to turn around and head back home. So, I am finally making a start with this first post, “Ontario – Part I”, but I don’t know how often I’ll be able to post as I have little access to wifi as I travel. We’ll see how it goes!

Whiteshell Provincial Park – Falcon Beach Campground, Manitoba, to Kakabeka Falls Provincial Park, Ontario, 531 kilometres

Shortly before leaving Manitoba, I lost the prairie, with its far-reaching, expansive, beautiful-sky views. The road was now bordered by trees, and would continue that way for many hundreds and hundreds of kilometres across Ontario. Luckily, that monotony would be interrupted often by quick glimpses (as I drove on by) of pretty lakes, beautiful marshes perfect for moose, and wide and impressive rivers.

On this first day in Ontario, there was a mix of sunny skies, and some very heavy afternoon thunder showers. I drove mostly in silence, but I also listened to CDs – Elton John, Neil Young, Van Morrison, and Abba were good company on the road. A highlight of the day was the sighting of a mother moose and her calf feeding by the side of the highway, and a short while later I reached Kakabeka Falls Provincial Park, my stop for the night. I viewed the impressive falls,

and I walked the trail along the top of the gorge, with views back upriver.

The trail I was on was part of a portage route used for centuries by the Ojibwa, and later by the fur traders of the North West Company as they ventured westward from Fort William on the shores of Lake Superior (near present-day Thunder Bay.)

Kakabeka Falls to Pukaskwa National Park (342 km)

The next day I was back on Highway 17, heading east, despite having slept poorly and feeling strongly that I should head west instead! I made my first stop just past Thunder Bay at the Terry Fox Memorial which is located just west of where Terry had to end his Marathon of Hope due to a return of cancer, this time in his lungs. He is a hero of mine, and I always took time in my teaching, when it was close to our school Terry Fox runs, to impress upon my students how strong, courageous, humble, and determined this young man was, and how he contributed so much to our country and to the fight against cancer. He ran 5,373 km across Canada – nearly a marathon a day for 143 straight days – and since his run hundreds of millions of dollars have been raised for cancer research. I was happy to see others stopped there as well.

I continued on, with peeks of Lake Superior as Highway 17 travelled sometimes close to the great lake and sometimes farther from its shores, up and around hills, and past many small lakes, marshes, streams and rivers. It was Canada Day, and I listened to some of my Canadian CDs (Neil Young (again), Joni Mitchell, and Spirit of the West), and I also tuned in to CBC radio for their coast-to-coast coverage of Canada Day events, including some of the performances being held at the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa. It was a good day of driving, and a highlight was seeing another moose – a female who crossed the highway about 300 metres ahead of me, surprisingly graceful on her incredibly long legs.

I had a reservation for the night (the first of 3) at the Agawa Bay campground in Lake Superior Provincial Park, but I had read positive reviews about Pukaskwa National Park which has a FCFS campsite, and many trails, so I took the access road and 15 km later I was able to get a great campsite and I knew that I wanted to stay there. It was such a wonderful park, with iconic and beautiful Canadian Shield, “Group of Seven”, scenery – rugged rocky headlands, off-shore islands, dramatic pines, three long curving beaches of golden sand,

and the seemingly endless expanse of Lake Superior.

The vegetation was gorgeous as well with many low-growing shrubs, mosses, and lichens,

and also wildflowers that were new to me. Yellow-blooming blue bead lillies, and tiny pink twinflowers, grew in areas of shade,

and I also met (clockwise from top left) bunchberrry, Labrador tea, Canada anemone, encrusted saxifrage (an Arctic plant that is able to grow this far south because of the cool conditions created by the massive amount of water in Lake Superior), and wild rose.

Three trails led directly from the campground and the Visitors Centre, and I connected all three to hike a total of about 8 kilometres. I was excited to find the iconic National Park red chairs atop a headland above Hattie Cove,

and I marvelled at the shapes of the ancient rocks, sculpted by glaciers, waves, and wind.

It was a truly marvellous park, and my favourite stop in Ontario. Thank you Pukaskwa!

Pukaskwa National Park to Lake Superior Provincial Park, Agawa Bay Campground – 276 km

The next day was a shorter driving day enlivened with views of lake, after lake, after river, after lake. Very scenic. Unfortunately, driving on HIghway 17 at speed, with other cars behind and not much of a shoulder, makes it very difficult to stop for photos. Fog had rolled in over Lake Superior as I entered the provincial park, and made for this atmospheric photo when I stopped at Old Woman Bay.

I continued on to Agawa Bay campground, at the far southern end of the park, and found my campsite with its view, across the camp road, of Lake Superior.

The fog came and went all day as I strolled the long beach, searched for pretty rocks, spent time at the Visitor Centre, and read an entire book. I broke up my reading sessions with small walks on the beach, and I was drawn there again to watch a long-lasting and beautiful sunset.

The next day, I drove back west to access several park hikes that I was interested in. First there was the short 500 m trail to the Agawa Rock where there are 150-400 year-old pictographs of animals, canoes, and supernatural creatures, painted with red ochre by the Ojibwa. Viewing the pictographs involves walking along a narrow slanted ledge below a rock face, and I found that my hiking boots were slippery on the very smooth rock. I was alone there, so I reluctantly decided against taking those last few steps to view the art.

Next, I drove to the trailhead for the Pinguisibi Trail which follows the Sand River for 3 km upstream, past a series of falls and serene stretches of river.

It was a wonderful trail, full of roots and rocks and hard packed soil, in the shade of trees and with the rush and roar of the river alongside. But, I was alone again, with no other cars in the parking area, and I was concerned about the possibility of meeting a bear. I kept up a nice loud silly and cheerful monologue, “Go away bear! I have bear spray but I really don’t want to use it!”, but after about 2 km, as I got further from the trailhead, I decided that I had best not go on. I turned back reluctantly, and of course passed a pair of hikers about halfway back. Oh well! My next stop was beautiful Katherine Cove where I had planned to have lunch,

but the highway was close and interrupted the peace so I returned back to camp. Feeling somewhat disappointed with my morning, I made lunch, read again for a while, revisited the Visitors Centre, and then decided to do the 3.2 km lakeside trail that led from the campground to the mouth of the Agawa River. My expectations were low, even though a young park interpreter had said that the trail was “pretty”. It was wonderful! And definitely very pretty, along an old road and then a sandy trail with grasses, flowers, birch trees, and tall, very old white pines.

I saw bunch berrry and twin flowers again, as well as a hardy plant with tiny yellow flowers growing in pure sand, orange hawkweed, and (wow) pink lady’s slipper!

Agawa Bay Campground to Lake Grundy Provincial Park – 516 km

This was a long day of driving, with a section of freeway that I hadn’t expected, just as I was beginning to feel tired. I made a quick stop at the French River, which I had been excited to see as it was an important part of an historic canoe route, along with the Ottawa and Mattawa Rivers and Lake Nipissing, that connected settlements on the St. Lawrence with the upper Great Lakes and the far West. The route was used by indigenous travellers, by the voyageurs, and by the great explorers Mackenzie and Thompson. The Visitor’s Centre was closed by the time I arrived, and despite my fatigue I began a trail walk, but it was buggy and I quickly decided to retrace my steps, take a quick photo of the river,

and continue on to my next campsite at Grundy Lake Provincial Park, not far distant, and luckily accessed on a quiet and slow highway.

Grundy Lake Provincial Park actually has four lakes, swimming beaches, and trails to hike so I had booked two nights here. I arrived hot and sweaty (so humid! 37 with the humidex), and should have gone for a swim, but I chose a shower instead and the water was really hot. Aaargh! The following morning, I woke early and set off to hike the short Swan Lake trail. It was an auspicious start as the trail led right away onto a floating boardwalk over a beautiful small lake with irises and pond lilies, a beaver lodge, and gorgeous rocks and trees all around.

But, after I crossed the boardwalk and entered the forest the black flies and deer flies began to swarm me. I probably should have turned back, but I continued on the 1.5 km trail at a faster walk, then a jog, then a quick stop to break off a branch of leaves to use as a switch, then a bit of a run, then a quick stop for another switch for my other hand, then a full run to get out of there, switching those branches back and forth around my head like a crazy person. I was hot, bothered, sweaty, and highly irritated, and it wasn’t yet nine in the morning! How would I spend the entire day here? And, the next day of driving was going to be a long one, so I decided to forgo my second night of camping at Grundy Lake to travel to North Bay, about two hours away, for a hotel night of AC and electricity, clean sheets and wifi. It was a good decision, with a lovely drive along quiet roads,

and a long stop in the pretty town of Callander, on Lake Nippising,

where I spent time in the welcoming library while I did laundry in the laundromat next door. The day was a welcome break from camping and the heat.

North Bay to Fitzroy Provincial Park – 313 km

A rainy day of travel, off and on, with just a few stops along the highway including here, for obvious reasons,

and here, at Deux Rivières, where the Ottawa and Maganasipi rivers meet.

Then, on the latter half of the day’s journey, the terrain changed to the rich farmland of the wide Ottawa valley, with its large dairy farms and fields of corn. The day grew very warm and muggy, the traffic increased as I got closer to Ottawa, and suddenly there was freeway driving and a missed turn. Thank goodness for the Google Maps lady who got me back on the right road to arrive at Fitzroy Provincial Park, located on the Ottawa River. I had planned to swim here, but the beach was incredibly busy with families and groups large and small seeking an escape from the heat on a Sunday afternoon (I took the least “crowded looking” photo I could).

I returned to my campsite, hot, sweaty, tired, and despondent to mope a bit (I don’t do well in the heat). But then, I put on my bathing suit and returned to the beach, determined to at least put my feet in. The water was cool, and I waded in, and then swam, out past the roped off area and the busyness, to better views of trees across the river and clouds moving across the sky. I was swimming in the Ottawa River, so I guessed that I was likely going to finish this drive across Canada…

Thank you for reading! 🙂

Glorious Hillside Hikes from Lagada, Amorgos – Greece, Spring 2025

Lagada to Tholaria and Ancient Aegiali Hike, Lagada to the Monastery of Agios Ioannis Theologos Hike, Cliffside Agia Triada, and Aegiali Bay, Beach, and Village

I travelled once again in Dina’s taxi, this time from the village of Chora, Amorgos, to the village of Lagada, located about thirty minutes north, and located on a hillside overlooking Aegiali and its bay and valley. I was again very lucky to have an early check in, at yet another fabulous accommodation, Armonia Studios. This was my charming room with an excellent kitchenette and private balcony!

I had shopped for my groceries before leaving Chora as the following day was Easter, so after dropping everything off I headed out right away on a walk of about 8 kilometres from hillside Lagada, to hillside Tholaria on the other side of the valley, and from there to Ancient Aegiali. It was another beautiful day as I walked into the centre of the village, found the main church,

and then found the long staircase that was the beginning of my hike to Tholaria. This was my view, from the staircase, to my destination on the opposite side of the valley.

The staircase led towards the head of the valley to a trail that dropped down into a ravine, and then rose back up and passed through the tiny community of Strombous (with no mains water or electricity).

Then the trail rose higher up on the hillside, and began its long curve around the head of the valley.

There were fabulous views down the valley to Aegaeli Bay in the distance,

and back towards Lagada. In the photo below you can just make out the old windmills on a ridge high above the village. What work and effort it must have been to build all of these terraces, grow the grain, build and maintain the windmills and hillside paths, and transport the grain to and from the mills!

It was a brilliant walk, easy and scenic. Flowers lined the trail, and there were now also views to the sea on the other side of the island. A short trail in that direction led past fenced farm fields to a small chapel.

After that, the trail curved around to the other side of the valley,

and became an ancient stone-paved path that led all the way around and up to Tholaria.

There were so many small lizards along that south-facing stone path, bright and iridescent green, but they were just too quick to photograph! I entered the village of Tholaria which has a population of about 150 but a very large church!

I didn’t linger, though several cafes looking appealing, as I was intent on visiting Ancient Aegiali, visible on the hilltop in the distance.

The path led me past a large and active farm, noisy with goats and chickens, where the terraces were planted with some kind of legume, and dotted with red poppies and yellow and white crown daisies.

Here is a zoomed in view of Tholaria, across the way.

The trail on the approach to Ancient Aegiali, between farm fences, was overgrown with vegetation, and it looked like no one had walked this path for some time.

I climbed up onto the rocky outcrop, with its jumble of stone fences and parts of a former defensive wall. There were no interpretive signs to make sense of this citadel of ruins, high above the sea, but I had read that it had been occupied in Neolithic times, and that an Ionian settlement here became the third city-state of Amorgos in the 7th century BC.

There was a rather dizzying view, at the far end of the hill, down to a small beach,

but I preferred this view down over the terraces and to the distant hills. I sat here for a while, happy, before beginning the return journey back to Lagada.

That return walk was as wonderful as the onward journey had been, with bright sun, a light breeze, fragrant plants, quick lizards, and glorious views in every direction.

Back in Lagada, I enjoyed a quiet and restful afternoon, and cooked up a dinner of veggie pasta seasoned with a generous amount of oregano that I had picked from the hillside. Then, as the sun began to lower, I walked into the village and beyond it a short distance to the nearby chapel of Agia Triada which is built, like Chozoviotissa, tucked up against a cliff wall. I walked a bit past the chapel, along the road, for this view up,

and then backtracked to enter through a gate where a long paved path led to a staircase, with views back to Lagada.

I climbed up the stairs and entered, first, a small cell,

then there was another narrow staircase,

that led up to a platform and the church where the door is kept unlocked.

From there, more steps led up to another platform, with a wooden bench tucked up against the cliff wall, and all of the valley and bay spread out below. This was the view down over the church,

and this was a zoomed in view of Aegiali Bay where a ferry was just arriving at the pier.

I stayed a little longer, and then stopped on my descent for this last photo of the day. It was a brilliant ending to a wonderful first day in Lagada.

The next morning, I woke up a little late and the day was already warm. My intention had been to hike to a distant chapel, Stavros, 90 minutes from Lagada, with a visit to the Agios Ionnasis Theologos Monastery along the way. I took a wrong turn out of the village, and ended up climbing much higher than I needed to, before correcting my route and finding the correct path where, again, I needed to climb. I have at least a half dozen photos of stairs going up (!), but I will show only one.

Despite the exertion, I was very happy and took my time. It was Easter Sunday, and as I walked I enjoyed the exceptional landscape all around me. Several small patches of daisies caught my eye and they were just so perfect. I stopped to photograph this one,

because to me these flowers represented the real miracle and mystery of the day. This, to me, is what should be celebrated and revered – nature and our very precious Earth. I carried on, and the climb finally ended at a plateau where I walked first through the welcome shade of a path lined with rock walls and many trees.

The path ended at the chapel of Agios Varvara where there is an ancient well.

From the chapel, there was a view up to the Monastery of Agios Ioannais Theologos, at the very top of the rise,

and the walk between here and there was truly spectacular. It was a beautiful, small, and verdant plateau,

with much evidence of previous cultivation and habitation. Just below the monastery there was one building currently inhabited, where a donkey and dog waited patiently for their master.

I climbed the last little rise to the monastery,

and, wow, what a place!

I called “hello” as I entered through an archway into a back courtyard but all was quiet. There were multiple individual cells, behind the church, and I wondered how many monks might have once lived here, and how many might live here now. I walked all around this beautiful monastery, and its church, with its round tower and east-facing church window.

The monastery was founded here in the 9th century AD, and these buildings date from the 1300s, with some carved stones, set in the altar, indicating that a pre-Christian temple once stood here. And, it is easy to understand why this site was chosen, with views to the sea in the west at Aegiali,

and to the sea in the east,

and over that beautiful small plateau.

I explored north of the monastery where there were many remains of old farmsteads, field fences, and a threshing circle, and in the near distance I heard the bells of sheep and goats, and the whistles and calls of a shepherd, as he led his flock. It was all rather emotionally overwhelming, in the best way, as I turned around and around and every single thing I saw was beautiful. I sat for a while, near the monastery, for food and water and a rest. Part of me wanted to continue to Stavros, about two kilometres distant, and part of me felt that this was the place to stop. I could certainly understand why this place had been chosen, all those centuries ago, and by so many, as a place to settle, and to give thanks.

I began my return back to Lagada, and absorbed all of the beauty again as I left the monastery, walked back through the gorgeous pastoral plateau to the chapel, then along the shaded level path, to the start of my descent on narrow paths and uneven stone steps. My eyes were necessarily focussed on my foot placement as I made my way down, until I noticed the geometric beauty of a thistle plant. That made me stop, and I became hyper-aware of the plants around me. There was yet another new kind of wildflower, in varying shades of pink and white,

and great mounds of euphorbia, oregano, and purple-blooming sage.

The most skilled gardener would be hard pressed to improve on the shapes and arrangements of the trees, shrubs, and flowers all around me along the steps,

and across the hillsides.

I couldn’t go forward more than ten steps at a time without finding another exceptional view to photograph.

It was truly spectacular, and I was feeling euphoric on that hillside, in that natural garden.

Finally, though, it was time to leave, and I set my sights back on Lagada below,

and on Aegiali Bay beyond that, knowing that I would travel there the following morning for my last day on Amorgos.

That evening, I went for a walk through the village. It was surprisingly very quiet, with only a few people sitting together at several tavernas and cafes. I had fun taking many photos of windows and doors, and of whatever else caught my fancy. Here are a few collages from an evening walk in lovely Lagada.

The following day was to be my last day on Amorogos, and I had no ambitions beyond, possibly, braving a swim. I took a taxi down to Aegiali, and again was able to check in early to another wonderful, clean, and inexpensive accommodation that included a seaview balcony.

I took a walk to the village, and was not in the mood to take any photos until I saw a small windmill down by the harbour, so then I had to take a few!

I wandered into a few shops, perused taverna menus, and then returned to my accommodation to be lazy for awhile. Later, in the afternoon, I put on a bathing suit under my shorts and top, and headed down to Aegiali’s long sandy beach where many families were enjoying the holiday Easter Monday, with young children playing in the sand, and a few older ones swimming, while their parents sat in family groups chatting and enjoying the lovely weather. I lay for a short while on the sand, and then went in to the sea up to my knees. My swimming ambitions had deserted me, and I happily strolled barefoot, back and forth along the beach, collecting small flat gray and white pebbles as souvenirs of Amorgos. A short concrete pier extended into the water near the centre of the beach, and from there I took a photo towards the village of Aegiali,

and one to the other side of the bay.

It was a peaceful and relaxing afternoon, and at dinner I treated myself to a sit down dinner at a taverna where I ordered the roasted goat, stuffed with dill and lemon rice, that had been cooked on Easter day. It was delicious, with a side of tzatziki, and a glass of local wine. My island time was ending, and as the sun set I reflected on my week on Amorgos. I was so glad that I had chosen this place for a longer stay, and yet it wasn’t quite long enough.

Perhaps I will be lucky enough to return again one day, for more glorious hillside hikes, on this very special island.