There are a couple of other things that haven’t fit in very well anywhere else in the last couple of days.

 
Words do not do that dirt road to Meat Cove justice. I just read a description of a “stunning scenic drive of 4.5 miles to an overlook that takes the breath away.”  What they actually meant however, (and this is from a motorcycle touring guide) was that the road would take your breath away, and you’ll be stunned when you get to the top to find there’s nothing to see.

 

 

Smokey Mountain rises 725 feet and has some of the best hairpin turns (not counting that dirt road…I think I’m traumatized by that whole experience) and we had plenty of chances to stop and get pictures we weren’t able to get yesterday.

 
We were talking with a couple of bikers who had ridden through Cheticamp, which is predominantly French.  They had stopped into a pub to get lunch, and when they first came in and greeted the owner behind the bar in English, a patron stood up, gave a thumbs up sign, and said “English, Only.”  The rest of the customers at the bar immediately switched to English and spoke only English for their entire visit.  Now, compare this to the Province of Quebec, and in particular, Montreal, which seems to be universally despised for their unwillingness to accommodate anyone who does not speak French.  Canadians as well as others have said that riding through and/or staying in Quebec is exceedingly annoying since all the signs are in French and service personnel in hotels and restaurants show little desire to be of assistance.  Were Quebec to secede, they would be forced to absorb all of the costs for social services, no longer being able to rely on Ottawa and the rest of the country.  (I can’t remember if I said anything about the students of University there in Montreal demonstrating over raising the tuition to $1400 annually, but it is a perfect example of the situation.)  Maybe it’s just part of the charm of Montreal and the province as a whole.

 
It’s bad enough when you go to a party where someone is wearing the exact same dress. (I personally have no knowledge of this, but I have heard it said.)  But can you imagine the devastation you must feel when you learn that you’ve worn the exact same car?  In front of a restaurant here in Baddeck, there were two black, convertible, T-Birds, same model year and everything.  Oh, the horror.

 

 

I meant to tell you that on the ride back from that dirt road, yesterday I saw two whales crest and dive at the same time.  Being somewhat occupied, I filed it away for future reference.  This would be future reference.

 

 

The seafood moratorium lasted approximately 24 hours.  That night I had steamed mussels and shrimp pesto.  In true Anglo-Saxon fashion there was absolutely no seasoning of any kind.  I’m not sure what the pesto was made of exactly but there were no pine nuts and no garlic.  I’m pretty sure olive oil wasn’t used either.  I didn’t realize basil could be so bland.  Then last night, we found seafood nirvana. If you’re not a big seafood or shellfish fan, bear with me for a moment.  Imagine spending $30 on a very nice lobster, all the trimmings, baked potato, salad, veggies, and the meal includes your non-alcohol drinks and all the dessert you can eat.   Such a deal, eh? Nowwwww, throw in all the steamed mussels, seafood chowder,and  crab legs  you can stomach, and there you are, NirVANA!!!!  Holy lobster claw Batman!  Fifteen pounds of mussels, two bowls of chowder, AND strawberry-rhubarb crisp, Sweet  Mary, Mother of Clams!  How can one person go wrong???

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