Terri and Peter's RV Adventures

There are times when you rely on your GPS and there are times when you rely on your heart and mind. Today I if I’d relied on my heart and mind it would’ve saved me a lot of running around. But I met a nice guy in the process, so who cares?

This was the second night since we left home that it was warm enough to leave windows open overnight. With the campground almost empty, it’s like having a private, grassy park to ourselves. It’s a dream come true for Lily.

After recommendations from our Newfoundland camping friends who live in Shediac, Peter stayed back with the dogs and I took off for Bouctouche Ecocentre, a long boardwalk over a stretch of dunes along the Atlantic Ocean. My GPS doesn’t recognize French so despite my heart and mind telling me to turn right and continue towards the water, I opted to follow my GPS which took me in the opposite direction. I got to “Reserve” which I thought might be a close guess to where I wanted to go only to discover a dead end. As I was trying other options on my phone, a burly guy came over and said, “You lost? I looked over at my house and didn’t recognize the truck.” Fortunately, his tone was unquestionably friendly and light hearted. When I told him where I wanted to go, he said, “Turn left then right and head toward the water.” Duh.

The boardwalk was peaceful (except for the 50 school kids, but that was ok), and at the end, I went down to the beach for a final toe-to-ocean kiss and headed back. The next stop was, at Larraine’s suggestion, the Society Culturelle de Bouctouche, a cafe and art shop that was showcasing some of her art, yarn-hooked pillows and wall art.

It was a quaint little shop with creative, beautiful works and the perfect stop. I ordered clam chowder and a latte and discovered Larraine’s work. I couldn’t resist. Not only do I appreciate her artistry, I wanted something to remember her and her husband, Trevor, so I bought a pillow. That launched me into a conversation with Nicole, the young woman running the cafe. We had a fabulous discussion about Trump politics, immigration, women’s rights and the future for her generation. She said, “I’m 18 and have my life ahead of me but I feel like women’s rights are going backwards. And I can’t believe how they’re treating immigrants! Yes, we’re Canadian, but we still need to stand up for what we know America stands for. It’s so hard to watch from here.” She mentioned that her father and grandfather are Trump supporters. When I asked her where she got her ideas, she said while she hates social media, that’s where she gets her information. She talks to her dad and grandfather about facts and hopes they’ll come around.

(Above: Me and Nicole holding Larraine’s pillow art work. I’m pointing at my t-shirt which happens to be one I picked up at Grand Codroy, the Newfoundland campground where I met Larraine and Trevor. Nice symmetry.)

I told her about marching in the Women’s March during the first Trump administration and mentioned my age (as a reference to having to do this again), and of course she won me over as a lifelong friend when she seemed to genuinely think I was 20 years younger than my age (I knew I should have given her a bigger tip!). Anyway, it was a lovely connection and another example of how these exchanges elevate experiences and memories of a place and a trip.

The dominant language here definitely feels French but it’s remarkable how fluidly people switch from one language to another. It’s so impressive and interesting. I wonder how people know what language the other person uses, say, in a customer/service person situation or when meeting a stranger. I’m guessing there are some clues. like someone saying “Hallo” vs. “Hello.” I’ll have to ask someone.

Returning to camp, the dogs missed me. I think Peter did, too. We headed into Shediac to get gas and groceries at Sobey’s, where we’re pros by now. Shediak is a medium sized town that seems to be having an identity crisis. Part of it is old, charming, harkening back to some time in its history when it was a fishing port (I know it still is, primarily lobster, I think), but maybe also a desirable destination for summer vacationers? But the building styles are inconsistent and across the street from a charming victorian-style hotel or restaurant is an angular, module style contemporary three story apartment building or big box mall. It just didn’t hang together at least for me in terms of a consistent theme of a town. Maybe it doesn’t need or want one.

However, driving down a few residential streets reminded me of a small town in the midwest. The yards are large, well maintained, no fences, large swaths of green grass and a combination once again of older styled country homes and more mid-century ranch houses. The leafy streets felt very homey and safe. The humidity reminded me of my growing up years in a suburb of Chicago (in other words, hot and sticky).

On the way back to camp, we stopped at Parlee Beach. Making your way through sea grass and sandy dunes, there’s a clean sweep of sandy beach. Unfortunately for us, there was also a lifeguard despite the time of day (5 pm). We didn’t feel we could easily let the dogs off leash so we returned to what is heaven-for-dogs: our campsite. We have a complete corner of the campground to ourselves and Lily and Cali have clearly claimed this acre as theirs. Fortunately, everyone loves a lab and they are giving Lily (and us) a lot of slack, letting her romp around, chasing balls nonstop. There is a father/daughter camping duo about 200 yards on the other side of the grassy field from us. Fortunately, not only do they love labs and Lily, but they both have great throwing arms. So together we tag teamed and wore her out.

Tomorrow, we hope for a fairly early start for us, 9 am, as we officially begin our turn homeward. We are traveling north and west to what I think is the northwestern edge of New Brunswick, Grand Falls, near the border of Quebec. We’re spending two nights there where there’s a gorge that of course is expected to be gorgeous. (I had to get it out of the way.) Good bye Atlantic Ocean. I’ll miss you.