Gasp -- Gaspe

GSeptember 6, 2009

We’ve arrived at Farillon National Park of Canada located on the Gaspe Peninsula. The campground is really nice in that it is wooded, quasi-secluded, with ample room for a picnic table. It is electric only, but we have plenty of water and plenty of room in the holding tanks. This evening after dinner, we walked down to the shore. To what I believe is the southeast is a protrusion of rock which drops straight into the sea. It marks the northern terminus of the Appalachian Mountains. I think the morning sun will highlight it and produce some great photographs. So we will venture there in the A.M.

The Drive. It is only 180 miles from Matane to des Rosiers campground were we now reside. Less then three hours on route 5; closer to three hours on route 99; and, an eternity on highway 1. We spent most of the day on the Canadian version of hwy 1. What began as a typical two lane road slowly disintegrated into a narrow, winding road with severe elevation changes and numerous stretches of road construction, also known as “travaux”. This was not “slow down, we are working on the road” construction: this was “there is no road, we hope your shock absorbers work well” construction. And, we are not talking about a couple of hundred yards of no pavement; we’re talking about half mile segments. One stretch was one-way only and controlled by lights at both ends. By the time we reached the far end, the light had changed. Thank goodness, we were big enough to see or the on coming traffic may have started our way. It wasn’t all bad; we had a wonderful lunch at one of the road side parks. The vistas along the route were spectacular. So was the occasional 15% downgrade.

The Observations. There is a WalMart in Matane, do you have a shopping list? And so it started. We did shop. We needed a new toaster as ours bit the dust somewhere in N.Y. and we thought it having an electric heater might offset the problem of buying propane for the R.V.

I wrote yesterday that most of the farm land had disappeared once we were north of Quebec City. Well the first stretch north of Matane proved me wrong. There was distance between the shore and the mountains and that land was farmed. They even grew “corn”; imagine that. By the time we had reached “Mechines”(there is a grave on the e, but I don’t know how to do that) the ruggedness of the peninsula began to show. From this point on the road is at only two places: either on the seashore with vertical mountains on the opposing side; or on the mountains. Along the seashore the road is buttressed by a seawall. Every quarter of a mile is a small sign indicating a latter from the sea up to the road, or vice versa. I think it is probably more important to know the first then the latter about the ladder. There are also road signs indicating the sea waves may crest the roadway. Ominous indeed, but it was low tide as we journey today and no storm on the horizon. Where the engineers deemed it more economical to move the road inland (inland being with in a half mile of the water), we were greeted with a grade of between 10 and 15 percent which we could generally manage around 35 mph. Reaching the crest, we could look forward to some gentle up and downs, followed by a steep descent into a coastal village where the speed limit was 30 mph (I know, we’re in Canada and I’m supposed to do KPH, but….).

Coastal villages exist because there are on villages inland. Everywhere a river flows in to the sea, is a coastal village. Because of the river, there is generally a bay where a sheltered harbor can be constructed. Because of the river, there is a supply of fresh water. Because of the river, there is a salmon run in the spring. And each coastal village has two things in common, actually three things. One, they are clean. There is no litter, no graffiti. The homes are maintained and the yards are mowed. Two, they each have a roadside park, usually with a view out over the water, and gardens of flowers. Three, and you should know this given we are in French Quebec, each has a Catholic Church. The spire of the church is usually the tallest structure in the town.

One more observation before I turn in for the night: Color. While not predominate, color factors in to a high percentage of the houses built here. There are white houses with bright blue or red roofs. There are houses of blue, not just blue, but navy blue, powder blue, sky blue; aquamarine, etc. There are yellow houses trimmed in red or green. There are green houses. There are houses which are white, but have porches of purple or orange or neon green or electric yellow. We saw one house which had what appeared to be flagstone walls. Not stacked stone as you see in some façades, but flagstone as if you took a patio and tilted it vertical. The stone was close to white, but it was interspersed with stones of blue, red and yellow as if a child had been instructed to color every fifth one.

It has been an interesting day. On our walk this evening, we met a couple from Ireland. It was nice to be able to speak English with someone for a change. Though the language has not really been a problem, French is all that you hear. The couple has to attend a wedding in Florida towards the end of October and is just touring until then. We wished each other safe travels. Perhaps we will see them again tomorrow.