Category Archives: strawberry moose

Monday 19th September 2011 – WHAT A LOVELY DAY

I took the back road into Fredericton to go for a look around today, and I came across this company. I couldn’t resists the idea of going into them and seeing if they would make one for me to my own specifications.

I need one made with a couple of rows of beads, rather like an abacus. And when I was asked why, I replied that, having had the kind of life that I had, I can only count on my own support.

But there was nothing happening in the town so I head back northwards towards Centreville

I took the old road out of the city and a few miles after the turning to Mactaquac I encountered this beautiful suspension bridge.

I couldn’t see a date on the bridge so I couldn’t see whether it was built before the valley was flooded when the dam was built in the 1960s. But looking at the clearance underneath the bridge you would only just paddle your own canoe underneath it today.

The day was really beautiful today and the views along the Saint John River were stunning. I took dozens of photos of the route and it’s really hard just to pick out one as an example.

I’m about 5kms from Kings Landing just here when I crested the brow of a hill and and this view presented to me. It looks absolutely magnificent in the sunshine but it does make you wonder what it must have been like before they flooded the valley.

This is the largest employer in the area, the AV Nackawik mill. And that must be the biggest pile of sawdust the world has ever seen.

The mill was built in 1967 to provide employment for the people who had been displaced from the valley due to the building of the dam. But in 2004 the company that owned it closed the mill in circumstance that can only be described as “controversial”. It reopened under different ownership 18 months later.

Nackawik is home to the world’s largest axe – the Giant Axe of Nackawik – and so seeing that we were here, Strawberry Moose and I went for a look at it.

The handle is 15 metres long and the axe was built in 1991. It’s purely symbolic and is said to represent the importance of the forestry industry to the area. And that’s just as well that it’s symbolic as I wouldn’t have liked to have met the lumberjack who was able to wield that in a forest.

There’s a time capsule embedded in the stump, but I’ve no idea what might be in it.

His Nibs and I had a quiet uneventful drive up the eastern bank of the Saint John River as far as Woodstock, which is over there on the far bank, swathed in the sunlight.

The bridge that you can see in the foreground is the old railway bridge. The station building remains but it’s lost in the trees to the right of the bridge. It’s a shame that there’s never going to be another locomotive running up and down that track

In Woodstock I went to the machinery place to see if he had and second-hand brushcutters but there was nothing doing. But what he did have was a selection of D-i-Y machines such as drills and the like powered by small petrol engines. I’ve never seen that before.

And back at Rachel’s, she didn’t feel like cooking so I made a mega-vegan-curry for everyone. And, surprisingly, everyone survived.

Sunday 11th September 2011 – SAINT ANDREWS

Dawn rose early over the Bayside ferry terminal, and so did I. It was rather cold in fact – a mere 8°C and that was probably what did it. But I do remember being completely comfortable last night and I didn’t feel a thing.

Anyway, I’ve made a note of this little place and added it into my little mental directory of suitable places to stay the night.

back down the road along the Saint Croix River, I can have a better view of Saint Croix Island, the Ile de Sainte Croix, than I did last night.

One thing that I could never understand however was the attitude of the British Government in giving so much away to the USA after the end of the War of Independence. Even though the Ile de Sainte-Croix was the site of the first-ever French colony on the coast of North America and thus by all accounts and rightful claims a French (and subsequently British by right of conquest) possession, the British allowed the USA to occupy it due to the fact that it was south of the main water course.

From here I went to Tim Horton’s for a coffee – and I wish that I hadn’t. 6 members of staff on duty, but only one serving and she was a trainee. And the guy in the queue in front of me orders, would you believe, 16 breakfasts. I was there for hours.

It’s the 11th of September today so Strawberry Moose gives the Americans a timely reminder, and also something else to think about.

A 21-gun salute across the Saint Croix River into USA territory at Eastport in Maine is just the thing for this morning and as usual, His Nibs is always keen to oblige whenever the need arises.

I’m at the blockhouse that’s situated on the bank of the Saint Croix River just outside St Andrews. This was one of the ones that was built in response to American aggression on the border here during the War of 1812 but by the time it was finished, the panic was over.

Just like everywhere else in Canada, it was badly damaged by fire in 1993 but was subsequently

There’s a long pier that goes out from the quayside here, and from there, there’s a very good view back towards the town.

The town dates from 1783 and was another United Empire Loyalist settlement created after the end of the War of Independence. In fact, it’s often said that some of the settlers brought their houses with them, floating them across the river on rafts.

This was where I was last night in the dark.

The town is laid out in the typical North American grid pattern that you will find in almost every city. And since then, it’s been a ferry port connected to Grand Manan island, a centre for irish immigration and, latterly, according to some tourist stuff that I had read, “Canada’s first seaside resort community”.

Talking of tourists, while I was wandering around, a tour bus from the USA pulled up and disgorged a load of passengers.

half an hour later, this boat sailed past me with a full load of passengers, presumably from the aforementioned, on their way to do a bit of whale-watching.

And I don’t know why the leader of the party needed a microphone to speak to his passengers – I could hear him quite clearly from over here.

Another thing that I do when I’m in a strange town is to look at the house prices. And I reckon that I might just be able to afford this kiddies’ garden play house.

Cheapest property in the Estate Agent’s window is a mere $63,900 and that’s just a small cabin, so residents of St Andrews can now breathe more easily. I will not be coming to join them. I can do better than that for a quarter of the price up on Mars Hill.

There’s a lighthouse here too at St Andrews. It’s the Pendlebury Lighthouse, right at the entrance to the Saint Croix River and dates from 1833.

It was disaffected in 1938 and gradually deteriorated. Some time in the early 1960s the sea wall was washed away and the lighthouse tilted over. It was eventually righted and in 2002 was moved 50 feet inland to protect it, as another section of the sea wall was observed to be on the point of collapse.

And that was just as well because in the following winter, the sea wall and the site of the lighthouse were washed away. Since then, there’s been a thorough restoration of the lighthouse and the sea wall and it’s been restored to its original location.

My route took me round by Passamaquoddy Bay and down a road that was signed as a “dead end”. The Lady Who Lives In The SatNav told me to do a U-turn in 500 metres, but she was clearly joking – or so I thought at the time.

It turns out that the island over there is called Minister’s Island and its claim to fame is that Covenhoven, the summer home of William van Horne.

And who might William van Horne be? Well, he was the power behind the Canadian Pacific Railway and this was where he came to relax.

And why is The Lady Who Lives In The SatNav not pulling my leg about this U-turn? That’s because you will have noticed the ramp over there on the island. It’s not a ramp as such, it’s part of a road because there’s a road that runs over there that is accessible at low tide. It’s only at high tide that the island is cut off.

A few times today, an old car that I thought might be a Ford A drove past me while I was wandering around. A short while later, I happened to stumble across it and I reckon that I may well be right.

It was sitting here in the drive of a house just outside St Andrews and it was not alone. It had several other old vehicles to keep it company, one or two of which will be quite exciting when they are finished.

There were a lot of roadworks going on here so I went for a closer look to see what was happening.

It’s the Digdeguash River that flows by here and it’s crossed by a bridge that has the date 1938 carved upon it. Although it crosses the river no more as it has collapsed. And it looks as if it’s been collapsed for quite a while too. hence all of the roadworks.

Next town down the road is St George and it has the most beautiful post office that I have ever seen.

St George is known as the “Granite Town” due to the fact that it had a granite quarry that for over 60 years gave up some of the best granite blocks ever seen in this part of Canada. What we see here in the post office, and some of the other buildings around here, are just seconds, believe it or not.

Just down the road at L’Etete is a ferry that goes over to Deer Island. I don’t unfortunately have the time to do over on it, so I’ll content myself with admiring it.

But interestingly, one of the members of staff told me that there’s another ferry on the other side of Deer Island that goes over to Eastport in Maine. Now isn’t that an interesting idea for an unusual crossing into Great Satan?

Down at the end of the road at Green’s Point is another lighthouse. It’s through the channel that ships travelling to St Andrews and St George used to travel and so it was logical that a light should be installed here.

At first, there was just a steam-powered foghorn installed, and the light followed as recently as 1903. The light was automated in 1996 and the keepers cottage is now used for holiday letting.

Whilst admiring the view and the water flowing by, I fell in with a guy from Toronto who was renting the cottage. He comes here every year and when you see the view you will understand why

While we were having a right old natter, our attention was drawn to three boats circling around about a mile or two offshore, with a disturbance in the water in the centre of the circle.

I took a photo with the telephoto lens and although I couldn’t see much, a little crop and enlargement produced something quite spectacular. According to my new friend, who was looking through his field glasses, we had been watching a Minke whale.

I had to dash back to St Andrews to meet Colleen but yet again I was sidetracked. I was having a good day for old vehicles, wasn’t I? In fact I’d seen many more today than those that I’m featuring on this page.

The engine was still in this one so I could tell that it’s a 6-cylinder side-valve (flathead) engine and judging by a few bits and pieces in the cab, it’s an International. And it’s just sitting here.

On a final note, Colleen and I went out for a meal (good job that I had some vegan cheese for my pizza) and we met a few of Strawberry Moose‘s admirers.

I stopped and took a few photos of them while His Nibs went over to make their acquaintance. Colleen gave him directions to her house and we went home for a coffee.

What a nice day!

Saturday 3rd September 2011 – CHARLEVOIX

This is my spec from last night – the big Tourist Office on the slope down from Cap Tourmente into the Charlevoix. And it was just like home too with a huge hanging cloud hovering over me.

And while parking up at a place like this might be a good idea in theory, it falls down in reality because there is no coffee machine, and that is unthinkable. What kind of welcome is this for tourists?

By the time that I had driven down the hill, through the town of Baie St Paul and up the hill on the other side, the hanging cloud had gone.

There’s a big parking place just along there with a magnificent view of the bay, the interior and also the town, and anyone standing on this point for more than 30 seconds will immediately understand why it is that the Charlevoix is the most beautiful place in the world.

A beautiful drive along the coast brought me to the town of La Malbaie. I came past here on my first journey to Canada but I was in a little hurry and so never stopped. However, today I took the opportunity to stop and go for a wander around.

It’s a really nice town, quite pretty too, and its claim to fame is that it was here that I handed out my first business card to a potential client.

As the mid morning sun cleared away the fog in the river, the views became spectacular. especially across the St Lawrence River.

And there is the distance is the St Lawrence Ferry that crosses between St Simeon and Riviere du Loup. We sailed on that on my first trip here too, smashing through the ice on the way across. But this year, I have another ferry crossing planned.

And I don’t mean this ferry either.

We’ve been on this ferry quite a few times and we are going on it again. It’s the Saguenay Ferry that crosses the mouth of the Saguenay River on the north bank of the St Lawrence at Tadoussac. It’s a symbolic ferry in that the river formerly marked the unofficial dividing line between “civilisation” and the backwoods.

It’s symbolic for other reasons, because look what else I’ve found here.

This is called a T-Rex and it’s a car, believe it or not, made in Quebec. About 50 of these are produced every year and if I lived here in Canada I would be the first in the queue for one of these. And of course, it would have to be called “The White Swan”, for the most obvious of reasons.

And that’s not all of the excitement either. There was a mobile home and caravan on board the ferry and you will notice the number plates. It’s come all of the way from Munich in Germany.

I went over to interrogate the owners and it appears that they have crossed the Atlantic with a company called Seabridge, the vehicle being shipped by Atlantic Containers in a service that runs from Hamburg and a few other places over to Halifax and Montreal.

I shall have to look into this.

This rusting hulk that has come sailing into Les Escoumins is the boat that is taking me over to Trois Pistoles on the south bank of the St Lawrence.

It’s quite an interesting ferry. Tickets are sold in the petrol station in the town, check-in is done by a man who drives up in a car, uses the inside of his hatchback as a desk, and then drives off again afterwards

As for the ship – well, she’s seen better days, and that’s what makes this crossing really interesting. Anyway, I pick up my oar, I’m chained to my seat and off we go.

Just by way of a change, there were all kinds of exciting people on the ferry and I fell in with this American couple from Massachusetts.

Strawberry Moose won some new admirers of course, because he is such a gregarious moose, and the feeling was mutual.

We had a lengthy chat, during the course of which they mentioned that they just driven the Trans-Labrador Highway. They had done the trip in reverse, so they said, which made me think that they must have had a really good pair of rear-view mirrors, because there was no obvious crick in the guy’s neck.

As the sun goes down on the St Lawrence River, Strawberry Moose surveys the scene.

Trois Pistoles is getting closer and closer and night is drawing in, so I won’t have much chance of finding a home fortonight. What I’ll have to do is to drive over the mountains tonight to the other side of Quebec on the New Brunswick frontier and see what presents itself.

I’m full of optimism, so all is well.

This is just a short account of everything that happened today. I took tons of photos and wrote loads of notes, so if you want to see it all, you need to go to this page and follow the account from there.

Friday 2nd September 2011 – TROIS RIVIERES AND QUEBEC

here’s where I spent the night last night – in a lorry-weighing station about 15 miles south of Trois Rivieres. And had it not been for the workmen going past with strimmers at about 07:30, I would still be asleep there now. I was really comfortable here.

It was crowded with trucks when I arrived last night but apart from the gardeners, it was as deserted as the Mary Celeste.

On my brief passage by here on the motorway on my first journey here, I first saw this bridge – the Pont Laviolette – but couldn’t stop to take a photo.

When I was here in 2010 I tried my best to find a good view of the bridge to photograph it but with not much luck. But this year, on the north bank of the river on the edge of Trois Rivieres there’s a little park here and there’s a place here where there’s a lovely view of the bridge.

First appearances can often be deceptive, and in Trois Rivieres that is certainly the case.

When I came here first, I wasn’t all that impressed but I spent a good couple of hours wandering around the city and that changed my point of view completely. If you would like to go on my little misguided tour of the city, you need to follow this link and you can form your own opinions.

This building is quite worthy of note, because it represents an irony that has gone completely over the heads of everyone around here.

Not too far from here is a chapel and the priest here back in the mid 19th Century wanted to enlarge it. he bought a pile of stone to bring across here when the river was frozen but the river never froze. So when he decided to cancel his plans – and almost immediately, the river froze over.

This was classed as a miracle and the crowds began to flock here, and so they built a bigger church – the irony being totally lost upon them.

How about this for an impressive construction? It’s the Tracel de cap Rouge, a latticework viaduct built at the turn of the 20th Century to carry the railway line over the valley here.

The valley around here is also of interest, for it’s the site of the first French colony in North America, although the colony didn’t last all that long.

After my vicissitudes of last year, we finally made it up to the top of the Plains of Abraham on the outskirts of the city of Quebec.

The battlefield here is ringed with old cannons and field guns from various wars and Strawberry Moose took the opportunity for a photo call with a cannon that had been recovered from the river, presumably from a sunken ship.

It was not much longer after this that I had a couple of encounters with the farces of law and order. Consequently I decided to leave the city and head for the hills. But if you want to see the city of Quebec, you can follow this link.

These are just a few photos and a brief recap of my day’s travels. For a fuller account, and to see more photos, you need to follow this link.

Saturday 9th July 2011 – There’a an old French saying …

… to the effect that “il faut etre vu pour etre connu” – which roughly translated means that “you have to be seen in order that people will recognise you” and this is what I keep telling people. You need to get out and about and visit all kinds of events possible and make sure that people recognise you, so that you stick in their memories.

I take it to extremes of course – I drive a yellow-and-black van and all the clothes that I wear are yellow and black – corporate clothing. And it works too. Some people came up to me in LIDL today – “you’re Eric, aren’t you? From the Anglo-French group. We recognised your van on the car park”. And of course, being colour-coded, they knew whose van it was. Works every time.

But with the idea of being out and about, and going to all of the events possible, some times you come up trumps as well.

Francois, the local environmental activist from Barrot at Le Quartier, was having another one of his events and he’s asked me to go along. I like Francois very much and his friends are quite friendly too and interested in what I’m doing, and so I went along with pleasure.

But I never expected the French television chain TF3 to have a camera and a reporter there

.

Luckily Caliburn is sign-written and so I parked him in a strategic place. But I’ve learnt something of a little lesson here ahd what I’m now going to do is have a banner made – one that I can keep in the back of Caliburn together with a few bits and pieces of samples just in case anything like this happens again. You live and learn.

And so it just goes to show – you need to be prepared for all eventualities and have everything to hand. You never know who you are going to meet when you are out. Nothing like this would ever happen if you stayed indoors brooding and sulking.

And I wasn’t the only one who goes in search of publicity and seeking a presence in front of the television cameras.

Strawberry Moose was pleased to see the television people too and took the opportunity to have his views aired on television. Appearing in public before his fans and making new friends has always been top of his priorities

Interestingly, one of the guys at this meeting was talking about building his own wind turbine. Even more interestingly, this American company I was talking to yesterday sells all of the complicated machinery that you need that you can’t manufacture yourself when you are building your own wind turbine.

I have a feeling that I might well be on to something here.

Sunday 19th June 2011 – I’m going to bed in a sec.

Yes, I had an early night for a change. But then again I needed it for I’ve been busy today at Francois’ event at Le Quartier today.

I met loads of interesting people, picked up loads of interesting ideas, and even sold some product, so it was definitely well worth while my going even though I smell of wood-smoke seeing as I was set up next to a guy selling woodstoves that he makes out of old gas cylinders.

Strawberry Moose was moose-napped again by a young admirer – he certainly has more luck than I do – and came back decorated with flowers. He liked that very much.

I met loads of friends too – too numerous to name – and I was reminded that there’s a chantier at Karl and Lou’s on Saturday.

It was quite a good event and my stall worked well but I didn’t stay for the dance and disco stuff – I feel much better curled uo with a glass of warm wincarnis at my age after my exertions just recently. And if a couple of these apparently-genuine enquiries come off I’ll be able to eat next week too.

In other news, another thing that I foretold has truly come to pass. Yes, the Septics are in talks with the Taliban. And who is surprised by this news, except the UK of course whose public position that “We will never negotiate with terrorists” (although in that case what the Good Friday Agreement is all about is a totaly mystery) is now in tatters and revealed as the farce it was always going to be.

The USA is pulling out of Afghanistan shortly and the whole basis of these negotiations with the Taliban is that the Yanks have no confidence that Khazi’s government will last 5 minutes after they have gone. The fact that Khazi’s writ runs no further than the walls of his palace is something that I have been saying for years – now it seems that the USA agrees with me.

And so what does this mean? It means that the west is fleeing from Afghanistan with its tail firmly between its legs. Not only did the Yanks lose all these people at the World Trade Centre, they have lost 4000 more in Afghanistan and the Brits almost 400 dead and for absolutely nothing at all, and as well as they they have stirred up a hornet’s nest of hatred that won’t die down in a lifetime.

The West’s campaign in Afghanistan has been a failure, and it’s been a failure since day one. Serve the badgers right as well.

-1

Tuesday 14th June 2011 – I LEFT YOU …

… last night as I was pulling up outside the Library at Cambridge University.

Today, I was battling, and battling unsuccessfully as you might expect, with one of the most classic examples of incestuous Academia that you would ever have the misfortune to meet.

There’s a really big car park at the University Library, as I knew. What I didn’t know is that it’s locked during closing hours. Parking in the street outside is controlled during working hours, but it’s a nice wide verge with plenty of free spaces and in a quiet area.

The plan would be therefore that I would park up for the night outside in the street, wake up really early, and be queueing in Caliburn at the gate to the car park when they came to unlock it.

Here’s Strawberry Moose queueing up to enter the library.

He was quite keen to teach a couple of courses at the University until I explained to him that the word is Lecturers, not Lechers.

Rather like the time that he tried to charter a plane to come home from Canada – but changed his mind when they told him that it was spelt L-E-A-Rjet.

So in I walked to the University library.

And I had a reason to be here too. Someone in Pionsat had heard of a story that an Eton teacher by the name of William Johnson Cory had visited the Auvergne and made a reference to the Chateau de Pionsat in one of his letters.

Before setting out, I had done some research into the aforementioned and discovered that on his death in 1892 he had bequeathed his letters to the Cambridge University library.

So here I had come to read them.

But I was failing to take into account the incestuous nature of Academia at the UK’s top-drawer University.

Yes, his papers are here. But no, I can’t see them.
“Why not?”
“Are you from the University?”
“No I’m not”
“Well, you need to have a letter from someone connected with the University validating your research project”
“But I’ve just come from France – I don’t know anyone here.”
“Well we can’t let you consult our papers until a researcher connected with our own University has had the opportunity to examine them”
“You mean that no-one from the University has examined them yet?”
“That’s right”
“And they’ve been here since 1892?”
“Yes”.

No wonder that mainstream Academia has such a poor reputation when the Universities are prepared to sit upon piles of unrecorded papers until the cows come home rather than let researchers from outside their own sphere of control have a peek.

Who knows WHAT treasures these Universities might be sitting on? When you read in some of these journals things like “a rare 7th-Century poem by Caedmon has just been discovered in an Oxbridge Library” you can understand why, now.

But I had nothing better to do and nowhere else to go, so I raided the University library just the same, seeing as I was in.

And here I hit the jackpot.

On the shelves was an original version of all of the volumes of Sir Walter Raleigh (not him, the other one)’s The War in the Air – totally original and un-defaced, even with all of the maps and plates. And I’ve never seen that before.

This was the book commissioned by the British Government as the Official History of the Royal Flying Corps (later the RAF) from its inception until the end of World War i.

I’ve been trying to find a copy of all of the volumes but the only ones that I have ever seen have had their maps and photograph plates removed, and the books are of much less interest without those.

But here I was in my element.

Later that evening I went for a drive to the outskirts of town where I cooked a meal (not practical to do that in the street right outside the Library) in a layby.

Having eaten, I then went on to a Motorway Service Area on the M10 – quite a drive and after all of that, the internet was down.

So I came back to my my spec outside the Library and had an early night.

Saturday 11th June 2011 – HIS NIBS IS AT IT AGAIN!

Here you can see him dipping into his Auntie Caroline’s cod and chips.

To pass the evening, I went to see Caroline again.

We ended up going out to the chippy (not half as good as a traditional Belgian fritkot), I have to admit, and that was where His Nibs joined in the (af)fray.

But Caroline’s cat Bigsy is very poorly and she might not pull through. I wanted to make sure that I saw her and gave her a stroke.

So after many vicissitudes, not the least of which was parking up for the night in a zone where there was no mobile phone signal (something that only I can do), I finally made contact with whatsername and, sure enough, my wallet was there.

That was just as well as I would shudder to have to think what I would have had to do had it not been there.

She was making breakfast for the family (it was quite early) I was also invited to eat there and that really put an end to my journey to Ilkeston and Vehicle Wiring Products, as they would have been closed by the time I would have arrived.

Instead I went to DK Motorcycles in Newcastle-under-Lyme.

As well as selling road-going machines the company also imports classic motorcycles from the USA. They arrive in all states of repair and I always like to go along if I can to see what’s arrived.

They had a few mint Hondas, including a couple of rare 1970s 350-fours as well as a pile of other stuff as well that was fit for renovation, including a 95%-complete Honda 160.

As an aside, I passed my motorcycle test on a Honda 160 belonging to my mate Ray Stigter.

Many of the machines that arrive there are only suitable to be broken up for spares and I always go to chat to the guys there because many of you might not know that I own probably one of the rarest of all Japanese motocycles – a CB92 “Benly” from 1961.

It’s basically complete and after we assembled it we even had it running after a fashion, but that was back in 1974 and that is a long time ago.

It desperately needs an overhaul but spares for it are impossible to find now – hence the regular visits to DK Motorcycles.

They might one day have one in that is only fit for dismantling but to date the guys in there freely admit that this is one motorcycle that they have never ever seen and don’t ever reckon that they will do either.

One regular feature of this blog in its previous incarnation was something to do with poorly-sited solar panels.

But we gave that up when we were overwhelmed with them. Some of these solar panel salesmen have no shame of course.

We’ve seen some dreadful ones on our travels in the past but this must be pretty near the bottom of the pile.

It’s all about the salesman’s income and nothing whatever to do with the reputation of the product that he’s selling

Lunch was at Waitrose in Sandbach and then I went to B&Q in Crewe to see if they had the doors that I need for my house. My house is dark and gloomy due to the small windows and if I’m putting partition walls in, this will cut the light down further.

What I need is some dirt-cheap glass-panelled doors and finding them in France is impossible. However B&Q does a nice cheap line in exactly what I want.

The door that I fitted into the attic came from there and you can see what a good job it does as well – hence a requirement for another half-dozen to match.

B&Q came up trumps in more ways than one.

they had enough in stock.
they had some that were only 650mm instead of 750mm and that’s what I need for the bathroom and the office.
with my trade card I had almost £100 off the retail price – £240 for 6 instead of about £335 or so.

When you think about it … “you are always thinking about it” – ed … that’s just 20 weeks of rental on my mailbox paid off in one swell foop.

You can see why it’s important to have a UK address if I am buying stuff over here.

Now Caroline and I are having a coffee on Sandbach Services. In a short while I’ll be dropping her off at home and making my way in the general direction of Bacup.

I have to go to see a digger there tomorrow morning.

-3

Monday 6th June 2011 – THIS WAS A HECTIC …

… day, and there have been quite a few of those just recently, haven’t there?

I think that I left you at Washington Services the last night, and from there I went on to Whitburn to spend the night by the seaside.

Unfortunately my little hidey-hole there was otherwise occupied so I had to search elsewhere.

There’s a nice cul-de-sac just across the road from the promenade that is a useful place to park up.

And that’s where I should have been last night – somewhere out by that headland over there near Whitburn.

But I’m not complaining at all about where I ended up. It was nice and quiet – much better than I anticipated.

This an area that I know very well from when I used to spend a lot of time up there in a different life, and so I took the opportunity to go for a wander round.

It’s what early mornings are for, isn’t it? Especially when those early mornings are as nice as this one.

A little dull at first but the sun soon came out and I had a lovely walk along the promenade.

And I was swamped with telephone calls too – it seems that word has spread about that I’m over here right now and I seem to be in great demand.

I walked down almost as far as Sunderland – only about a mile or so, it has to be said.

Sunderland is a port at the mouth of the River Wear and the entrance – the Roker Pier – is protected by a beautiful Victorian construction that despite everything that the modern world can chuck at it, still retains most of its contemporary charm.

No ships though. It’s been … ohhh … a whole week since I’ve seen a ship! That’s no good!

This statue here is known as Bede’s Cross. It commemorates the life of the aforementioned and was designed by Charles Clement Hodges and erected in 1904.

He was born sometime around 672 just down the road in the town of Wearmouth and died in 732.

He was a monk at the Abbeys of Monkwearmouth and Jarrow and his claim to fame is that he wrote a book An Ecclesiastical History of the English People of which several copies survive today.

This is the book which provides most of the History of England from the departure of the Romans until his death.

This afternoon I drove down to the big ASDA on the old Boldon Colliery site.

Here, Strawberry Moose met up with his sister and her friend Natasha and they had quite a chat about their adventures and what had happened to them since they last met.

While we were there I took the opportunity to return to her her coat and another one or two things that be had brought back with him

Another opportunity that I took was to have a little wander around the shop. Amongst the exciting things that I found were some 75-watt inverters for just £7:99. They had three in the shop.

After I left, there were none. Handy little things, those.

It’s not finished yet – not by a long chalk.

Later in the evening saw me in Hexham, round at at Dave’s. He needed his Detective Agency website bringing up-to-date and so that was another task that had been on my list of things to do.

We had a really good chat about this and that for quite a while.

And despite the lateness of the hour, I still had things to do. I have to be on my way to Edinburgh.

Well, Rosslyn actually. Something about my trip to Canada in 2010 had come up.

Sunday 5th June 2011 – HERE’S AN INTERESTING …

… notice.

I was always under the impression that the 21st Century was going to be all about doing away with sexual and gender discrimination, and promoting equality and all of this lark.

So what part in modern society does a “gender-discriminative” event such as this have to play?

And not only that, it is a blatant ageist-discriminatory event and even worse, it discriminates against single parents who are prevented by this ageism from bringing along their children – but yet no childcare or creche facilities are on offer.

The Sheffield City Council and its employees should hang their heads in shame. An event such as this has no place in modern society

This was photographed at one of my habitual haunts – the Forestry Commission car park at the Ladybower Reservoir. That was where I spent Saturday night.

We’ve been here on many occasions in the past as it is one of my favourite spots. And you’ve been lucky enough to have seen the photographs in winter when there have been no leaves on the trees to obscure the view.

But I’ve known this area for much longer than that. It was here that the 1971-72 North West Schools Orienteering Championships took place and Yours Truly finished 18th – and no, there were many more than 18 entrants.

Having dropped Caroline off last night, I come over the top via Axe Edge, Buxton and Castleton to arrive here. A beautiful drive in the dark and even better in the daylight.

It was quite late by the time that I arrived so I treated myself to a lie-in (well, it IS Sunday) and then off to Towsure in Sheffield for some gas and some other assorted bits and pieces.

One thing that I wanted was a new mounting for the jockey wheel on the Sankey trailer. I want to tart that up a little this year. It’s showing its age

This afternoon I went to Morley, just off the M62 to meet Helena, one of my friends from school. Something else for which Social Media has a lot to answer.

We haven’t seen each other in … oohhh … 38 years I suppose; so we had a lot of news to catch up on over a coffee or two.

Of course Strawberry Moose took the moment to have a photo opportunity like he does. He’s quite a hound for publicity.

Right now I’m at the Motorway Services at Washington on the M1 not too far from Newcastle-upon-Tyne heading to the seaside at Whitburn where I’ll be staying the night if all goes well.

Tomorrow His Nibs is being reunited with his sister. It’s been a good few weeks since they have seen each other and he has some things to give her.

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Saturday 4th June 2011 – HAVING ORGANISED …

… most things around here, I’m moving on tonight.

Last night I slept in comfort and tranquility on the fishermen’s car part at the back of Moston near Sandbach. If there’s no night-fishing going on, that can be a nice peaceful spot, as indeed it was last night.

There was tons of work to attend to today – all kinds of paperwork that I had been letting go which needed bringing up-to-date.

There was also some stuff that I needed to check up with on the internet and so that involved removing myself down to Sandbach Services, for whose assistance I have long been grateful.

For lunch I nipped into the supermarket in Sandbach – a Waitrose, would you believe – to pick up some stuff and then went and found a quiet corner in which to eat it.

Later that afternoon I went back into Crewe. It was probably 20 years or something like that since I’ve seen Cassie, Joanie and Malcolm. it was only meant to be a brief one-hour visit but we had so much to say that it was gone 20:00 by the time I left.

That took me round to Congleton and Caroline’s to rescue Strawberry Moose after all of his adventures in North America, and we all went out for a pizza, a coffee and a good chat too.

Dropping Caroline off, I hit the road for the North.

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Monday 8th November 2010 – I DID OK …

… with last night’s motel here on the edge of Orangeville. 58 dollars it was, and no-one waking me up in the middle of the night. But I was up early and gone by 08:45.

However, you will have noticed the frost on the roof. Yes, winter is following me around now.

The drive down to Windsor was absolutely uneventful – I can’t think of anything at all to say about it, even if it was a rather circuitous route that I was obliged to follow.

I was back in Windsor by 15:00 and I found yet another cheap motel- 39 dollars a night and with internet too. I worked out that staying for three nights here (which is what I’m doing) is costing me less than one night in Labrador City.

Mind you the paintwork in here could do with a really good clean and there one or two channels on the TV that are what might be described as … errr … interesting but there’s no Monday Night Football which is rather annoying.

I met up with Katherine and we went for a coffee and a chat. And Strawberry Moose is now making up for lost time, recounting all his adventures to his big sister. And now I only have the SatNav to talk to.

Tomorrow I’ll be emptying out Casey and giving him a thoroughly good clean, and that will take a good while. Then I’ll be posting off all my purchases back to France.

I’m shuddering at the thought of the cost of that.

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Monday 25th October 2010 – I’M IN A BAD MOOD AGAIN.

Yes – I went into Truro today.

Now if Truro were ever famous for just one thing it would be the Teachers’ Training College. If you have been following my journey you will know that Nova Scotia is a province of mainly small villages in isolated situations and until the road-building process that started in 1918 and is still not yet finished these villages had no connection to any other.

But if you can’t bring the children to education the province realised that it needed to bring education to the children and in 1876 it created a small College in Truro to train teachers to educate children in the wilderness.

These teachers, once they had qualified, were sent to these isolated villages, lodging with parents and teaching children in empty fishing sheds and generally integrating into the village to which they had been sent. And this programme continued until 1960.

The college itself is a magnificent building crowned with a copper dome and spire, and features as the centrepiece of the Truro Heritage poster. And when I came here in 2003 I had a quick look for the building but couldn’t find it.

However today, with more time on my hands, I wandered around until I found it. And I had to find it too, because the people whom I asked, including the lady in the Tourist Office, knew nothing about it.

So here’s the building – the most significant in Truro and probably the most influential in Nova Scotia.

And the reason I couldn’t find it is that there is a huge concrete bunker – a public library – right in front of the building, built on the lawn, and a huge modern building – the police station – built in the old courtyard (this photo was taken around the back).

And of course the copper dome and spire have gone – sold for scrap, I shouldn’t wonder.

The building has been abandoned for probably 30 years and there’s a notice on the wall – “The Truro City Council is actively seeking new opportunities for this building”. So how about using the money spent on the new police station to refurbish the building and moving the police into here? Or demolishing the library and ……

But I’m not going to go on and on about this because I’ll get more and more depressed. My opinions about Canadian preservation efforts is starting to sink to the same depths as those of the USA. Or of France. Or of the UK. People no longer have any pride in their heritage.

So to cheer myself up I went in search of what may well be the oldest intact steam railway locomotive in the world.

My route north out of Truro took me along Highway 311 and Highway 326 took me over the watershed between south-western Nova Scotia and north-eastern Nova Scotia and I encountered some views that were truly beautiful.

However, it also took me into a load of traffic as you can see and I’m not at all used to this. Still, you can’t have everything, I suppose.

You can’t have this either, because the owner has no interest whatever in parting with it, although Strawberry Moose has a good go at driving it.

It’s basically a standard 1930s Ford 2-ton chassis with twin rear wheels, a single-wheel front and a Ford V8 flathead (sidevalve) engine and formerly belonged to a small paper mill out on the coast in British Columbia, a mill that was isolated from the main road network.

They built it themselves after a fire in the mill during the 1940s had caused considerable damage because they had no means of extinguishing it.

And the next fire, in 1994, he fire engine had been out of use for so long that it wouldn’t start and so the mill burnt down again. Consequently they junked it and the present owner rescued it and, having fixed it, drove it back here.

At least, that cheered me up considerably.

I eventually tracked down my steam locomotive, thanks to the owner of the fire engine who put me right.

A group of engineers have liberated it from its depressing situation on a plinth outside in all kinds of weather and, having restored it to something resembling working order, it’s now in the Nova Scotia Museum of Industry and I was lucky enough to be allowed in to see it.

The locomotive is called Albion and came to Nova Scotia from Newcastle upon Tyne in 1854.

For a long time it was considered that 1854 was the date of manufacture, but I would find this hard to believe without convincing evidence. If you compare this design with any other design of 1854 and the evolution has been considerable.

I’m not going to go into a long discussion here because I have expounded at considerable length elsewhere, where you can read at great length exactly what I think about this locomotive.

What is comforting about this is that the people who, while they might not know exactly what it is that they have, are fully aware of the fact that they are in possession of something that is truly special and they have gone to considerable lengths to take care of it. That can only be commended.

And that cheered me up considerably too

Having been bundled out of the museum with indecent haste because it was closing time, I wandered off to have a look at New Glasgow.

This was another town with quite an impressive past, growing rich on all of the industry and coal mining that took place in the vicinity, but now all of this is long-gone and the town is a shadow of its former self.

There were houses on sale here for as little as $26,000 which, for a European such as myself, is an astonishing price. You couldn’t buy a garage for that in the UK, never mind a house.

That down there is a new theatre, so if you did come here to live, there would be something to entertain you.

But on the site of the theatre and its car park, between 1821 and 1918, there were 5 shipyards and a total of 210 sailing ships were built there. The largest was one of 1400 tons, would you believe.

The ships were built by local men using local materials and from here they went out to sail the world. You would never believe that now.

You’ve all seen this before. This is the Lionstone Motel up the road in Pictou and I stayed here in 2003.

Time was marching on and I didn’t have time to look for another motel (I believe in spreading my largesse about) so I came back here. No reason why not, after all, I was quite comfortable here last time.

The restaurant that had served me a decent meal last time had closed down, so I bought some chips and went to look at the Bowater paper mill – one can’t escape the smell of wet paper around here.

With a better camera, this photo worked much better than the one that I took in 2003.

So having accomplished that task, I went to heat up some beans in my slow cooker. Pour them over my chips and I’ll have a meal fit for a king.

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Friday 22nd October 2010 – SO WE WERE ALL DISCHARGED …

… from the “Caribou” … “He wasn’t discharged, he was expelled” – ed … at 07:30. We weren’t torpedoed during the night after all. And the first thing that I did, after getting a coffee from Tim Horton’s, was to go to have a look around Sydney.

I’d been here in 2003 but with not being very well at the time I’d never really seen the place and so I resolved to rectify the matter.

So here’s a photo of Main Street, just to prove that I was here. This is actually North Sydney, where the harbour is and I drove all around the harbour and I didn’t find a flaming Opera House or a blasted bridge anywhere.

Nothing for it but to head into Sydney itself, and that’s quite a hike away. And the road down to there has grown a roundabout. 10 years ago you could drive all around North America and not find a single one. Now they are all the rage and everyone wants one.

There may not be an Opera House here at Sydney but this is the next best thing to it.

Someone has certainly been on the fiddle here and I’ll probably find, if I were to go in, that it would be quite a vile inn. But there’s no chance of that at this time of morning.

But anyway, now you know that I’ve been here and seen it. That’s dealt with that outstanding issue.

Climbing up Kelly’s Island, where in a space of 7kms the road climbs 240 metres, we can pull up at the viewpoint and take a good look at one of my favourite works of engineering, the Seal Island bridge.

It’s a shame that I have the early morning sun to deal with, but never mind. Lurking in the shade of a convenient pine tree, I can still manage something and the bridge still looks quite impressive regardless.

On the other side of Kelly’s Mountain there’s a lookout on the way down and I missed that completely in 2003. And it really is beautiful too.

There’s a ferry down there that goes across to the start of the Cabot Trail and I went that way in 2003. I’m going to go down there and cross over on the ferry and then do the Cabot Trail in the other direction.

I had to take a little deviation to visit the cemetery at Englishtown. Here is the grave of Giant MacAskill. A normal-sized baby, during adolescence he just “grew and grew” and reached a height of 7’9″, a height that puts him well up in the ranks of the tallest men in history.

Born in Berneray in 1825 and christened Angus, he came here to Nova Scotia with his family in about 1831 and died in 1863.

Baddeck is said to be the birthplace of canadian aviation, with the flight of the “Silver Dart”, and it was also the home of Alexander Graham Bell.

There’s a museum here that is open for visits, but if you want to see the home of Bell, you can’t because it’s still occupied by his family and so is off limits to tourists. But out of pure interest, it’s over there on that headland where that tower is.

Cape Breton Isle was formerly an island as you might expect, but it’s been joined to the mainland of Canada by a causeway which carries a railway line and a road, as you can see down there.

There’s a canal through the causeway so that ships can still pass from one end of the Canso Strait to the other, and the bridge swivels out of the way whenever a ship needs to pass.

I followed the western shore of the Canso Strait southwards for a while and it really was a beautiful drive, far too nice to ignore, and I must have taken hundreds of photos.

This is Pleasant Street, a very apt name I do say, but I forgot to record the name of the town in which it is situated. But the whole area was as beautiful this and I was having the right weather for sightseeing.

And as well as beauty we were having plenty of history too.

All around here was a very important area 100 years ago, being the part of the North American continent nearest to Western Europe and several submarine trans-Atlantic telegraph cables came ashore here. This was the Hazel Hill terminal of the Commercial Cable Company and the story goes that the company built its offices and staff houses in brick in order to attract employees from urban areas to come and settle here

But after my marathon drive today, I began to lose the light. Here on the Good Ship Ve … Stormont, Strawberry Moose took the helm with his assistants Seaman Staines and Roger the Cabin Boy while I worked out my next move.

According to the crew of the ferry, there’s a place down the road where they take in boarders – “what do they tell them?” … ed – and that’s where I went.

And if I could find more places like this on my route – nice friendly and cheerful proprietors, bed and breakfast in a comfortable room with use of cat and kitchen, for $45 cash, all of my troubles would be over.

>No internet though, but you can’t have everything I suppose.

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Tuesday 19th October 2010 – THE BIG ISSUE …

… with fulfilling your lifetime’s ambition is “what do you do next?”

I reached St John’s today and had a good wander around. But I found hardly anything much to hold my interest,apart from a couple of things below.

The view of the harbour from up on the hill at the entrance to the harbour is impressive though and it showed you why this was such a key harbour during all of the events that took place on the north-eastern seaboard.

Last night I stayed in a little B&B that was excellent. The brother of the woman who ran it came round – he’s a teacher and we had a good chat about the aviation history of the area.

Now in a book that I once read, it stated that there was a little aviation museum that kept the bits of- the 5 attempts to cross the Atlantic in May 1919 – the undercarriage that fell off Hawker’s plane for example. But try as we might we could find nothing anywhere that looked like it might be anything.

But then this guy told me that a good while back a new museum had been built and all of the relics from a load of small museums were collected there, and there had also been a Transport Museum created.

And as my book was dated 1970 or something, long before the consolidation, he suggested I try those places.

At the Transport Museum, one of my major assumptions was verified. Up in Central Newfoundland I’d seen traces of what looked like railway track bed – I would have staked my mortgage on it – and sure enough there had been a railway in Newfoundland and one of its tracks did go where I saw it.

So that was that. And a fascinating museum it was too – I spent ages there and learnt a lot but they had no trace of these aviation exhibits.

At the new museum, “unhelpful” is a word that I thought that I would never ever have to use in the English-speaking Maritimes, but unfortunately, here we are. The … errr …. young people on the reception desk knew nothing at all and wouldn’t be bothered to ring up to ask any elderly colleague to see what he or she might know.

But they did encourage me to visit the exhibition of a sculpture depicting the car-bombing of a street in Iraq – to see the “senseless destruction”.
“How appalling” I commented. “It’s a disgrace. It clearly made sense to the Freedom Fighter who detonated the bomb so I find your comments juvenile, offensive and patronising. When might there be an exhibition of some of the senseless American bombing of streets in Iraq?”

Yes, I was in a bad mood. I suppose these early aviation exhibits have been long swept into the obscurity of the distant past and probably won’t ever see the light of day again, which is a shame.

I did however manage to track down what I reckon is the crash site of the “Raymor” – the aeroplane piloted by Raynham and Morgan. They took off from some land at Pleasantville, near Quidi Vidi Lake, and crashed at the end of the runway, heavily overloaded with fuel.

I once saw some photos of the aeroplane on the runway and I could identify the hills in the background, and I also saw a photo of the crash site, and I was also able to identify the hills in that location too – so I’m pretty sure that I’ve got it right.

It’s really the only place that it could be because everywhere else is either totally uneven terrain or the hills are too close.

But it was still a hell of a place to try to take off with a new and untried aeroplane with an enormous load of fuel. Alcock and Brown, who had drawn to take off next from that field, immediately went around to look for another field rather than to try from there and in the end they used a field that had been allocated to another competitor but who had withdrawn. That, unfortunately, is now a big housing estate.

There were still a few other sites that I needed to track down, Hawker’s being the most important, but the light went and I needed to leave. I’ll have to come back again to Newfoundland, but I won’t be sorry. it really is a beautiful place even if the east coast does average something like … errr … 216 rainy days per year

So now I’ve turned back and sad as it is to say it, I’m on my way home. I’ve reached the apogee of my voyage.

But I did see at St John’s, a sign that said “3940 kms to Paris”. And when I fuelled up just outside the city I noticed that since leaving Toronto not quite 3 weeks ago, I’ve driven far enough to have gone to Paris and come back, and still had mileage to spare.

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EPIC HALL

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality

Category Archives: strawberry moose

Monday 19th September 2011 – WHAT A LOVELY DAY

Sunday 11th September 2011 – SAINT ANDREWS

Saturday 3rd September 2011 – CHARLEVOIX

Friday 2nd September 2011 – TROIS RIVIERES AND QUEBEC

Saturday 9th July 2011 – There’a an old French saying …

Sunday 19th June 2011 – I’m going to bed in a sec.

Tuesday 14th June 2011 – I LEFT YOU …

Saturday 11th June 2011 – HIS NIBS IS AT IT AGAIN!

Monday 6th June 2011 – THIS WAS A HECTIC …

Sunday 5th June 2011 – HERE’S AN INTERESTING …

Saturday 4th June 2011 – HAVING ORGANISED …

Monday 8th November 2010 – I DID OK …

Monday 25th October 2010 – I’M IN A BAD MOOD AGAIN.

Friday 22nd October 2010 – SO WE WERE ALL DISCHARGED …

Tuesday 19th October 2010 – THE BIG ISSUE …

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