Mon, 21 July 2014 - "...From Fortune he did run"
Another song, another destination: this time "French Perfume" by Great Big Sea, and the smuggler from Fortune who "made for Spanish Room". So South it is, to Marystown and around the bottom of the peninsula.
The way was barren and desolate, but there was a big rock farm:
There were "ponds" - what we'd call small lakes, but I do think pond is more appropriate:
Finally I got to Spanish Room, and was sorely disappointed:
St. Lawrence was somewhat quaint, but appeared to have a hydroelectric plant on the river. Finally I find some quaint at a little village called Lawn:
Then things went from quaint to downright desolate: the town of Lamaline. It was COLD, the wind was screaming across the barren land, there was little shelter that I could see in the wide bay open to the south. Why anyone would live here is a mystery. Unless... the French islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon are VERY close to here - perhaps the chief occupation here is smuggling? At any rate, it's on my List Of Places I Wouldn't Want to Live.
On to Fortune, where a few trees blocked the wind and made life a bit more bearable, and then to Frenchman's Cove Provincial Park. At first I was wary of a campsite right beside the water, but this was a lagoon so there was little wind, it was quite warm, and since it was salt water there were no mosquitoes.
I was just making dinner when a nice French-Canadian guy came over, offered a glass of wine, and we chatted (in somewhat halting English) for a while. He certainly helped change my opinion of Quebecers!