Bill & Ed's Excellent Adventure...Day 31...Friday, July 15, 2011

Plop
Plop
Plop
Plop
Plop

Oh yea...that's what I'm hearing this morning. This morning that Weather.com said was going to be sunny...not. So...we're doing gloomy, cold, damp and overcast again.
I'm making coffee in the back of the camper...some relief from the rain.
Ed's up, but breakfast is out of the question...until...there's a short break in the clouds. Eggs, ham, cheese...all together...toast, coffee, OJ, milk...ah...things are looking up.
But looking up after breakfast, the rains is back...no hiking today. Instead, we drive back west...towards the town of Margaree. There's a small artisan operation that makes cutting boards from local larch wood. Pricey, but very, very nice. Ed and I both buy one...a nice souvenir.
After, we stop at the bank...the Post Office...the local grocery. At Cote Harbor, there's a lobster pound...dinner is soon in hand.
Then we're back to our favorite local watering hole, Le Gabriel for beer and WiFi...more blog posts...some interesting conversation with a few locals...friendly people they.
Back at camp, it's still cold and damp, but at least it's not raining. While I'm boiling up a nice two-pounder, Ed chops up leftover pork tenderloin for tacos..there's a salad. It's all good...the better for a bottle of Jost Pinot Grigio.
After dinner, one of our camp mates, Kurt from Switzerland, stops by with a few beers to share. His wife joins us for awhile as well, and we learn that tomorrow will be their first anniversary...so we toast that.
I'm up much later than usual...it's almost midnight when I head off to the tent. Ed stays with the fire...until 2:00AM actually, when he wakes up. By then, I'm long asleep.
I expect a tough drive tomorrow.


Ed's Sidebar, Day 31:

The Winds of Blomidon have struck tiny Belle Cote near the Cabot Trail. The cold and wet assail us. Waves pound the seawall. We will head north again on Sunday, deeper into Summer where lobsters are jumping into pots for warmth.

People are speaking French behind me, beside me, at the grocer, at the pub, everywhere is French. Everyone can switch to English effortlessly. I am the unschooled, here in rural Cheticamp.

The last time it was this cold in July, there was a mile of ice on Nova Scotia, and July had not been invented.