The day started very gray, but as has happened more days than we can count, the skies cleared up after lunch, turning the ocean back to brilliant blue. Our tour was of the French Ancestors Route. The French had settled this cove in 1881, and were living quite well off the sea and the land, which was more fertile here. But the French government wasn’t doing as well, and decided that there was more money in coffee beans from Africa than cod from Newfoundland, and sold the fishing rights to England. The French evolved into a community, not Acadian and not European, but Newfoundland French. The communities do more yard art here than in others we have seen, and the one café we found had more of a European flavor in its décor, although the menu was strictly Newfie. There are high cliffs and more crashing waves than anywhere else we have seen so far. Parts of the peninsula are quite barren – the winds are strong. Once again, we found a lovely little park and trail at Sheaves Cove. The only mishap, other than Dick falling over a rock, was that I shut my camera in the car door, breaking the screen. The camera still takes pictures, but since it has no viewer, I can’t see what I am taking……so be patient as you view the pictures for the rest of the trip.

Our next stop was Codroy Valley, the most agricultural area in the province – we even saw a field of corn – field corn, unfortunately. We stayed at a lovely private park – Doyles Grand Codroy RV Park. As usual, we spent the afternoon driving up the peninsula to get a feel for the area. We found a cute little café just before the Cape Anguille Lighthouse. We had what has become our ritual of coffee and a treat every afternoon. Dick gets the treat, I get a bite. They had a nice sheltered deck with a beautiful view – would like to have dinner there next trip. We had been told about a nice picnic area on the water outside the town of Searston on Highway 407, but it was a bit windy to enjoy that.

Time was getting short, so we moved on to J.T. Cheeseman Provincial Park, just outside of Port Aux Basque. We found a sandy beach and a interesting little road that followed the coast. After a good half hour of slow and bumpy going, we got to the end, just to find a barrier blocking the entrance to the highway. Luckily, Dick moved enough for me to get around it, and only then did we see a sign saying “No street vehicles allowed”…Oh well…

We had been warned in Newfoundland that we could not take root vegetables or Newfoundland dirt into Nova Scotia, due to some potato pest. I called the port to ask about my three herb pots that I have been carrying for 6 years. They said to bring them down to the dock a day early and perhaps they would be approved. When we got there, they put them on the ground and walked around and around, just looking at them. They could clearly see that these were not new plants, but said I would need to prove it. I asked where they thought I would buy fresh herbs in Newfoundland. They just laughed, but neither would they approve them. I asked if I could wash the roots really well and take them over in plastic. The guy thought I was nuts, as did my husband, but said that if I could show them clean roots the next day, they would probably let me through.

We drove another 40 miles along the south coast to see the Rose Blanche Lighthouse – a historic old lighthouse that was built in 1871, abandoned in the 1940s, and reconstructed fully in 1999, furnished with 19th century reproduced furniture and local antiques. It is unique for its granite construction, the only one restored in Atlantic Canada. Well worth the drive.

We were talking to a woman who worked in the café next door. Her family was hit hard by the cod moratorium, and both of her sons now live and work in Alberta. She and her husband almost had to leave, but at the last minute he was offered a position – they were already packed. I thought she summed it up well, when she quoted her husband as saying, “There is nothing here, but so much to leave behind.”

By the time we got back, we were tired and hungry (this full time vacation life we lead is not as easy as you people think!)…..and the bleedin’ herbs still had to be dealt with. We were dry camping, so had no water near our site. My dear husband, in a pure act of love and with minimal grousing, helped me carry the two window boxes and round pot to the river, where we squatted by the river trying to wash the herbs and the pots clean. My only complaint about the southeastern area was the profusion of little gnats that were driving us crazy. Finally, I took my soggy little mess of herbs in a dishpan to the front of the campground, where I covered them in clean water, carried them back to the picnic table, and left them there to soak overnight. The next morning, I wrapped them in wet paper towels and put them in a plastic bag. When we got to the ferry, the agent was waiting for me. I am not sure she was convinced they were dirt free, but just didn’t have the heart to take them away from me. When I re-potted them in Nova Scotia, only 3 of the seven were there – I guess the little guys got washed out with the water – and those three are not doing so well……another traveling related casualty…

We reluctantly left our home of almost two months, already with a list of what we missed and must see next time. It was a remarkable journey and one I would recommend highly, although next time, I think we will come in at Port Aux Basque, get to the northern peninsula in June to see the wild orchids bloom and the icebergs, and then work our way east, with the icebergs and the whales, leaving out of St. John’s 2-3 months later. This is a place that needs to be experienced, not just seen, and you can’t do that if you move every day or two.