Tag Archives: edmundston

Friday 28th September 2018 – BANE OF BRITAIN …

… strikes again!

And in spades too. The kind of thing that only I can do, and I’m pretty good at it, having had years of practice.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves right now. Retournons à nos moutons as they say around here.

Having extolled the virtues of a really good night’s sleep yesterday we returned to our customary habits by being wide awake at 01:45, for a reason that I can’t fathom, save as to say that it disturbed me.

From there on in I drifted in and out of sleep until the alarm went off. And then I dashed out of bed because I wanted to see Hannah. It’s homecoming weekend at St F-X so she’s off to Antigonish to meet up with her former colleagues and do a little celebrating.

And quite right too. It’s a kind of end of a long goodbye to an important period in her life. She’s graduated (with distinction, I’m proud to say) from the best University in Canada with enough certificates to cover her bedroom wall and she’s ready to move on into the big wide world.

But she needs to say goodbye in this one before she goes.

She’s like a typical young University graduate – torn between home and family on one side and what the big wide world has to offer on the other side, and so why make your own mistakes when you can listen to the mistakes that other people have made?

And as a result we had a good chat for several hours. After all, no-one has made as many mistakes in their life as I have in mine.

I hadn’t bought her a graduation present because, after all, what do I know about people’s tastes? I gave her some cash and told her to choose a really nice piece of jewellery that she likes, and wear it for me. And then I bunged her a bit more cash to go and have a party.

With having had a bad night, I was ready to go back to bed for half an hour or so. And that turned out to be a couple of hours or so. I still can’t shake off this health issue. I might be feeling better than i was earlier in the week, but that’s a long way from saying that I’m well.

Once I was back in the Land of the Living I had a shower, packed my suitcase and had a very late lunch. Following which I leapt aboard Strider and we went down to the office.

Zoe was there, telling us about her wedding plans. She’s Rachel’s eldest daughter and decided a few years ago to make her own way in the world. She’s finding it tough going and struggling along, and this wedding is proving to be quite a problem.

She’s seen a wedding dress that she absolutely loves and which is apparently beautiful, but she has to pay a 50% deposit to secure it and have the fitting done, and she can’t rustle up the money.

No girl should ever have to settle for second-best on the most important day in her life (a comment which will have made Nerina’s eyes pop out on stalks wondering how she managed to end up with me) and so I gave her her wedding present in advance. Tomorrow she can go and sign up for her dress.

There were a few of us down there this afternoon, with people coming and going, and we ended up having quite a chat.

So much so that we were down there long after closing time, which was just as well because quite late on, someone phoned up with a speculative enquiry about tyres to solve a crisis, and we could actually help out.

Tea was, basically, everything that was left over from earlier in the week and you would be surprised at how nice you can make stuff like that when you have a good imagination and some culinary talent. I certainly enjoyed mine!

Time to hit the road now and so I said goodbye to Darren and Amber. And not wishing to leave Amber out, I slipped her a little present so that she could go shopping. I also had a little word or two in her ear about something or other.

Rachel and I trundled off to Florenceville and the Coach Atlantic bus. Plenty of time to wait and so I started to search my pockets to see what I had forgotten to leave behind.

I found the pot of glue that Darren had given me to look after, and then I boarded the bus.

We stopped at quite a few places along the route, and at the coffee pause at Edmundston I realised that I hadn’t continued the search of my pockets.

And so I did – and found the keys to Strider and Rachel’s spare front door key.

D’ohhhh! That’s really the kind of thing that only I can do, isn’t it?

At Rivieère-du-Loup where I change for the Orleans Express bus to Montreal, I had a chat with the Coach Atlantic driver. She’s doing the return to Moncton tomorrow afternoon and, as luck would have it, is having to call at Florenceville on her way down.

So I negotiated an envelope from the guy in the ticket office, put the keys inside and she dropped it on the dashboard of her bus.

And I settled down ready for the next stage of my journey.

Saturday 19th August 2017 – WE PULLED …

PREVOST COACH MONTREAL QUEBEC aout august 2017… into the Sainte-Foy coach interchange about 15 minutes early having missed out on Longueuil on our way down.

Not that it did us much good because the café was closed up.

I can’t believe the commercial opportunities that people are turning away these days – and then they are complaining about a recession when they have captive clients and they are turning them away.

But enough of my rant for the moment. The wait of 45 minutes was quickly over as the bus out of the city down the Gaspé puled in early too so we all clambered aboard for the next leg of our journey – alighting at Riviere-du-Loup.

prevost coach atlantic edmundston new brunswick aout august 2017A two-hour wait here even though the bus was already in and waiting. No electricity either and a “confused” internet set-up too.

I curled up on my seat and tried to sleep, but not that it did me much good because I couldn’t drop off very easily.

With arriving 15 minutes early in Florenceville I had to wait 5 minutes for Rachel and she drove me down to the tyre depot. With Ellen being ill, Rachel is having to work today.

It was quiet there today – Darren and Hannah are away tractor-pulling in Bowling Green with Perdy in the Pink, but there was plenty of coffee on offer. And I needed it after my overnight Odyssey.

Amber and her boyfriend were going back to the house at lunchtime so I cadged a lift, made myself some toast and coffee and then had a nice hot shower.

And, as you might expect, crashed out completely. According to the fitbit I’d had 1:06 of sleep during the night on the bus.

Rachel was back at teatime and we spent a long time putting the world to rights, and then made a mega-soup for tea. We were joined by one of her friends who is helping out with the accounts at the moment while Ellen is indisposed.

She had made a really good salad that went down a treat too.

But I wasn’t up for long. It’s cold and wet outside, not at all like a Canadian summer, and I was feeling quite tired so I made my excuses and had an early night.

Tomorrow is Sunday and the legendary Taylor breakfast brunches. I need to be on top form for that.

Friday 7th October 2016 – ABSOLUTE, COMPLETE AND UTTER TOTAL B*****D

And that’s putting it mildly. There has been a major blow-up here tonight and there are going to be some serious repercussions about all of this.

But first, let’s put things in the correct order.

This morning, I was totally dreadful. I wasn’t going anywhere at all. Despite Hannah having returned from University last night I wasn’t up to very much – just leaving my bed to tell Rachel that I was going back to bed again. I was totally incapable of functioning.

I struggled to my feet again round about midday and Amber, who was staying at home told me that I had a few things to do, such as going back to the border and handing back my entry pass to the USA. That was quite important as I’ve had problems about forgetting to do that in the past.

So I set off down there, with my head slowly clearing the farther along the road that I drove. And at the Canadian border post I had a piece of luck in that I could hand it back there without having to cross the line.

On the way back down the road into Centreville I stopped by the river and ate my butty in the sunshine, having a little doze as I ate. But I can’t stay here for ever – I went back to the tyre depot to say goodbye.

Much to my surprise, my permanent insurance certificate has arrived. I put that in Strider and now he’s 100% legal (not that he wasn’t before of course but now I have all of the paperwork to prove it). I was able to fax to the insurance brokers the registration certificate and a copy of my French driving licence so they now have all of the information that they need. All I need now is for this insurance company not to change its rules and regulations and to keep me insured.

Just so that there’s no mistake or misunderstanding, with what I would have had to pay for hiring a vehicle over the last two occasions that I’ve visited Canada (2015 and just now), then if you calculate the cost of buying Strider, taxing, insuring and maintaining him, I am now in front. And if I do come back next year, I shall start to be well ahead. Buying Strider was definitely the right decision, as I knew that it would be.

And not only that, I have had an e-mail from the insurance company to say that anyone with a Canadian driving licence and with their own vehicle insurance can drive Strider too. I printed out a copy of that and stuck it in Strider just so that it’s there for the record.

But by now it was 15:00 and I had gone again. Completely. To such an extent that I fell off the chair on the office. Rachel picked me up, dusted me off, gave me the key to the house and sent me home where I crashed out completely. I should have gone to Darren’s sister’s husband’s birthday party at 18:00 but I was going absolutely nowhere.

I had to haul myself out of bed at 20:45 because this was the time that I had to go to catch my Maritime Bus back to Montreal. It leaves the Irvings petrol station at 21:3O so I wanted to be there by 21:15.

And so we were. And so we waited. And 21:30 came round, but the bus didn’t. And neither was it there at 21:45. The petrol station closes at 22:00 and so I went over to the girl to ask about the bus and … it had arrived at 21:00 and because there was no passenger there, he had cleared straight off without waiting for me.

The b*****d.

So we rang up the Maritime Bus headquarters using both the numbers provided by the girl in the petrol station – and as you might expect, “we are now closed. Please call back during office hours” – which is of course absolutely no use whatever when you are running an overnight bus service with overnight passengers waiting in overnight bus stops in isolated locations.

And so we phoned the Maritime Bus stop at Grand Falls. And he had just left there too, half an hour early. I thus called up the coffee-stop at Edmundston (a mere 140 kms away) and asked them to hold the bus, and we set off to give chase.

Rachel drove like the wind – I shan’t tell you how fast we were going in case the farces of law and order are reading this – but when we arrived at Edmundston he had left. It seemed that he had refused to wait.

The double b*****d.

We stopped for a coffee at Tim Hortons and Rachel had some business to, which must be done before midnight. And then we set off for the next 110 kilometres to Riviere du Loup. Here is the bus interchange where I need to board the Orleans Express that comes down the Gaspé Peninsula to Montreal. I usually have an hour’s wait there and so at least we had plenty of time to do the final leg.

Although the Coach Maritime Bus was at the bus depot, the driver had long-gone to his hotel, so I wasn’t able to tell him what I thought of him. But the ticket agent was quite interested in my story. He wondered why the bus had arrived at 23:50 instead of the more usual 00:15.

The triple b*****d.

Rachel ended up having to drive a total of 520 kilometres and a journey whereby she would be home at about 21:50 took her until 04:30 the following morning, just because some Coach Maritime Bus driver wanted to get to bed half an hour early. By the time that I finish with him and his company he can have as many early nights as he likes because he won’t be driving a bus again.

The quadruple b*****d.

So now I was ensconced in the bus terminal waiting room waiting for my bus back to Montreal. There would be no confusion about this one.

Wednesday 7th September 2016 – WHAT A GOOD DECISION …

… that was, to book into that hotel at the back of the coach station.

I was stark out as soon as I laid down my weary head. We did have an interruption at about 23:45 when a baby started to cry, but that can happen in the best of places and it was a thing of five minutes. And then I needed to make a trip down to the corridor at about 03:00. I finally came to my senses, such as they are, at 04:45, having had a good night’s sleep in this extremely comfortable bed. The night porter’s call at 05:00 was therefore rather superfluous but it was nice to know that it was available and that it works.

But I’ll tell you this – $30-odd less per night than sleeping out at an airport hotel and while the comfort is rather less, I don’t need most of the difference. For the time and money that I save and for the convenience of being in the city centre, if I do ever make it back to Montreal I’ll be coming here, even if it does involve a 500-metre drag of the suitcase. And remember – when I stayed in Lille the other year I dragged it farther than that – and uphill too!

Let’s face it. It’s seen better days, this hotel, but I had a good shower, a really comfortable sleep, and no-one stole my boots. What more do you need?

I was too early for breakfast of course, but that can’t be helped. My bus was more important. I was at the coach station in no time flat and a friendly security guard unlocked the door to the left-luggage room and took my voucher so that I could recover my suitcase and Strawberry Moose, and we took our place in the queue, chatting to a guy who said he was a scouser, although he sounded more Northern Irish to me.

The trip to Sainte-Foy, on the edge of the city of Quebec, took just under three hours and I spent the time in half-asleep mode. After all, it was quite early in the morning. And it’s a good job that I didn’t go to sleep (or is it?) because this bus apparently goes right out to Sept Iles, somewhere else where we’ve been before and where I can catch a train to Labrador.

But when we reached our destination – Sainte Foy, not Sept Iles – a couple of mugs of coffee and a few rounds of toast and jam revived my spirits somewhat, although I’m not sure that you really need to say more than once that you don’t want butter on your toast.

viagra condom machine st foy coach station quebec canada september septembre 2016But what’s this all about? That chewing gum was disgusting – $2:00 for three slices and it tasted of nothing but rubber. As for the viagra however, I tried that once many years ago whilst in the company of the much – maligned Percy Penguin, who didn’t appear in these pages anything like as often as she deserved to back in those days. And I clearly didn’t swallow the viagra quickly enough – I had a stiff neck for a week.

And you all know that the wish that I have about my departure is to go suddenly while in the arms of a nubile nymphet a third of my age. Were I to be lucky enough to find a willing volunteer, the viagra would come in handy in those circumstances. But it would take them three days before they could put the lid on the coffin.

ship of the day pierre laporte bridge st lawrence river quebec canada september septembre 2016Coming over the Pont Pierre Laporte, which we’ve visited before, there was a ship a-sailing … "a-dieseling, you mean" – ed … by, up the river towards Montreal. It’s too far away to see what it is, but it’s the only likely candidate for today’s Ship of the Day and so we’ll include it in here.

We’ll see if we can identify it at a later date when I can access the record of the Port of Montreal … "he couldn’t" – ed.

But on the subject of Pierre Laporte, the whole world is currently up in arms about what they perceive as brown-skinned terrorism, but never forget that Pierre Laporte, a leading Canadian politician, was kidnapped and brutally murdered in cold blood by white-skinned Catholic terrrorists during a major terrorism in Canada – and some of the perpetrators of the crise d’Octobre were given a free passage to Cuba by the craven Canadian Government.

And not only that, some modern-day Quebec politician proposed to erect a plaque in their honour. Yes, and the Canadians complain about brown-skinned terrorists. You couldn’t make this up, could you?

orleans express bus sainte foy riviere du loup canada september septembre 2016But now the bus is in, and it’s two hours from Sainte-Foy to Riviere du Loup.

So feeling a bit more like it after the coffee, I did a pile of paperwork on the laptop and listened to some good music to pass the time. I’m in Traffic mode right now and I had a good listen to Sometimes I Feel So Uninspired from the magnificent On The Road album, because that’s just how I’m feeling right now. And if he can play a lead guitar solo like the last four minutes of that track when he’s feeling do uninspired, whatever could he do if he were to have some inspiration?

holland hurricane express bus edmundston new brunswick canada september septembre 2016By the time I got to Phoe … errr … Riviere du Loup I wasn’t all that far behind where I wanted to be. But we were late and the connecting bus was already in so I had no chance to buy something to eat and drink. Luckily, I still had a packet of the vegan crisps that Alison had bought for me in Belgium and which had survived the voyage across the Atlantic. They didn’t survive the voyage down to Edmunston anyway.

And our Holland Hurricane has internet available and I can actually configure it to work. All I need now is a few people on line to talk to, but as soon as all of my friends see me come on line, they all clear off rather smartish-like.

We had a 15-minute stop at Edmundston (it’s nice to be back in New Brunswick anyway. Home Sweet Home, an hour in front of Quebec time of course) which was plenty of time to visit the gentleman’s rest room and to pick up a coffee. That’s me organised now for the two hour journey that remains.

Much to my – and everyone else’s – surprise, the bus was bang on time to the minute on its arrival at Florenceville. Rachel, my niece, was already there and waiting and so that was ideal. She had a few errands to perform and then it was off to Centreville and the tyre depot. Rachel went on to do some more errands and I came back here with Darren and Amber.

First task was to sort out Strider. He’s been in his little hidey-hole since last October and needed to see the light of day. Even though the battery had had the odd trickle-charge it was a little flaky so that will need to be replaced, and the tyres were down. And not just that, but some creature or other had made a nest with the soundproofing from underneath the bonnet. But it’s good to be back behind the wheel of Strider again – just like old times and as soon as I can resolve this continuing insurance issue we’ll be in business.

Darren and I had quite a chat but I eventually called it a night. It’s far too much for me these days. It’s amazing just how tired you become doing nothing but sitting around all day on a bus.

And it’s nice to see some friendly faces, but a couple of weeks with me will soon take care of all of that.

Wednesday 19th August 2015 – HERE I AM …

prevost orleans express bus montreal riviere du loup quebec canada… at 03:30 at Riviere du Loup, and this is the bus that brought me here – a Prevost.

It took that length of time for the bus to come all the way out here but to be honest I don’t remember all that much about it. I managed to have something of a doze.

But here, I had to change buses as this one that I was on is off down the Gaspe Peninsula. I’m waiting for the Coach Atlantic bus that will be here at about 04:00 ready to leave at 04:30 for Moncton, and that’s going to drop me off at Florenceville.

prevost coach atlantic bus edmundston new brunswick canadaAnd this is the Coach Atlantic bus, an older Prevost, that brought me to Florenceville. We’re at Edmundston when this photo was taken, stopping to pick up and drop off passengers and also parcels because the bus does a parcels delivery.

And that gave all of us the time to have a coffee and to visit the bathroom, which I for one needed after all of that drive.

Strangely enough, we arrived at Florenceville on time, and Rachel and Amber were there to meet me. And I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that is that I will do this bus trip again. It was extremely painless, and much more comfortable than I ever imagined it to be.

I was dropped off at the garage to pick up my new toy, Strider the Ranger, and then took it round for its safety check. It passed okay, but I’ve had a new spare tyre put on it. The one that was there was quite worn and in any case it was the wrong size. I may as well have it done first as last, and it gave me an opportunity to clean and grease all of the spare wheel fittings.

Armed with a valid safety certificate, I went off to the insurance and there I had to lie down in a darkened room while I recovered from the shock. North American motor insurance is horrendous, even worse than Belgium.

I took the certificate back to the garage so that he could have a copy and so that he could register the sale and obtain the number plates. At the moment, Strider only has a temporary registration certificate.

On the way back up here, I noticed that Strider has a chronic misfire on one cylinder so I’ve booked it in on Friday to have a full service – that’s something else that I may as well have done before I go too far.

The three of us (Darren and Hannah are tractor-pulling this weekend) went out for a meal later at Woodstock and a good old chat, to catch up with what we have missed since last October. And then I came back here and crashed out.

Hardly a surprise.

Thursday 2nd October 2014 – IT WAS FREEZING THIS MORNING.

And I’m not joking either. It might be a slight exaggeration though, for it was 2°C outside when I set out. And there was a huge hanging cloud everywhere that meant that you couldn’t see a thing.

hanging cloud centreville new brunswick canadaUp on the hill at the end of the road, you can see what was going on. It seems that Centreville is suffering the wrath of the Gods today and is swathed in this huge hanging cloud while the rest of the region is bathed in glorious sunshine.

I don’t know what we have all done to deserve that, but here it is and here’s the proof.

old railway bridge canadian pacific centreville woodstock new brunswick canada september 2014I set out to continue my exploration of the area and managed to find my way onto the old railway bridge that I featured yesterday.

It’s evidently seen much better days than this and it’s not the strongest bridge over which I have walked in my time. But at least it’s still here and not been swept away. And it was a beautiful day in the sunshine out of the hanging cloud.

bridge abandoned railway line canadian pacific woodstock new brunswick canada september 2014I mentioned … "a few times now" – ed … that there was a railway line that followed the Saint John River between the coast and Edmundston in the north, and it crossed the river just outside Woodstock.

I went for a prowl around in the area and found the old bridge. Much to my surprise, most of that is still here too. One span is missing but nevertheless, the main part of the bridge is still standing and that looks quite impressive even if it is in worse condition than the one at Centreville.

There are the remains of an old rural railway station near here and the goods yard has been transformed into a commercial vehicle scrap yard. I had a slow drive past to see what I could see, and attracted the attention of a couple of the employees who took a decided interest in what I was up to.

I had my lunch on the car park that is by the “lake” in the River Meduxnekeag (I hope that I’ve spelled that correctly) in the beautiful sunshine, and then read a book and had a play on the guitar for a while. I didn’t feel much like going anywhere else seeing how nice the day was and how good was my little spec here.

And why not? I’m on holiday and I should be relaxing. It’s what holidays are for.

And autumn is definitely here. No wonder they call it “fall” in North America because I’ve never seen leaves fall so quickly from the trees as I did today. And you will be surprised at the noise that they make too. I would never have believed it.

Thursday 5th September 2013 – I’VE ARRIVED …

… in New Brunswick now, at Rachel’s house. And arrived an hour late too because, although I know it better than most other people and I even have an extra clock programmed into my computer especially, it went clean out of my mind that the Maritime Provinces are in a different time zone to Québec.

MOrris 8 cabano quebecThe route itself is quite interesting. For example, when was the last time that you saw a 1940s Morris 8 in the UK? Seeing one over there today would be quite something so seeing one here in Canada is quite something else. This is an E series Morris 8, production of which lasted 10 years from 1938 to 1948.

It’s for sale too and I had a good look, but having the world’s worst body repair and the world’s worst spray job and with loads of bits missing, it’s something that doesn’t have too much of a future unless someone does something about it pretty quickly

lancaaster bomber kb882 edmundston new brunswick quebecSomething else that doesn’t have too much of a future is KB882, my Lancaster bomber at Edmundston in New Brunswick. THe owners of it have no idea what they have here – it’s one of only 7 surviving Lancasters and one of only three that flew active service on missions in World War II over Germany and it flew into this airport in 1964 when the locals stuck it on a plinth. And here it sits, 50 years after, having been looted and pillaged ever since.

I have called these people “clowns” and other uncomplimentary names and I know for a fact that they have read my remarks and so I shall continue to call them that until they swallow their pride and hand this aeroplane over to someone who appreciates its value and gives it the respect and repair that it needs. The treatment that KB882 has suffered at the hands of the good burghers of Edmundston is nothing short of a national scandal.

Monday 28th May 2012 – DOWN TO THE RIVER

It’s Monday today – time I was heading for the hills.

Consequently I went round to the tyre depot to say goodbye to everyone, and then I set off northwards.

wheel comes off trailer st basile new brunswick canadaThe first bit of excitement today occurs at St Basile.

It looks as if that pickup has pushed that trailer into the tyre place here at St Basile to have a tyre fitted or something, and as it’s drawn away from the depot, a wheel has come off and gone hurtling across the yard.

They are going to be there for a little while while they sort all of that out.

edmundston new brunswick canadaOn the outskirts of Edmundston is a big Ford garage, and there on the front they had a Ranger 4×4, black, 2000, extended cab.

It was a bit tatty, painted over rust and that kind of thing with a few new bits recently fitted, like a drivers side rear spring hanger rear mount. Sold as seen, they wanted $5900 which is flaming extortionate if you ask me.

Nevertheless I approached a salesman and he came over with the keys. And as you might expect, the Ranger had a flat battery and so he couldn’t start it up. And so he went to fetch the battery pack and it wouldn’t start with that.

His response to all of that was “il ne start pas” (he really did say that!), baissé’d his bras’es and wandered away from the scene.

So what is all of this for a garage? Cars on the forecourt at that kind of price and not only can they not start them up to show to an interested customer, they couldn’t even be bothered to make an effort. It’s a fine advertisement for a garage, that it.

degelis quebec canadaWhen I came by here in 2011 I somehow managed to miss out on visiting the town of Degelis, up in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains just over the Quebec border.

I needed to put that right, and so here I am, even if I don’t have a great deal of time to be diverted from my mission. This is the view of the town from the hill towards the north end of the town.

“Dégelis” in old French means that it never freezezs, and this is a reference to the volume and force of the local water which creates too much friction for the river to freeze over.

barrage de temiscouata quebec canadaAnd when you see a street called “chemin du barrage”, you know that there’s going to be a dam and hydro-electric turbine somewhere in the vicinity.

The road down to there follows the track of the old Temiscouata Railway that we encountered at Cabano in 2011, and this takes me after a couple of miles to the barrage and turbine. It’s a nice place to go for a wander, and also to eat my butty.

fort ingall cabano quebec canadaI drove through Cabano and out the other side and went to visit Fort Ingall, something else that I didn’t manage to see in 2011.

This is a reconstruction of a fort, built in 1839, after excavations in the 1960s had revealed its exact layout. Back in those days, the USA claimed all of the land up as far as the lake here and the British were having none of that – hence the area was quite heavily garrisoned.

fort ingall lake temiscouata cabano quebec canadaYou can see the attraction of fortifying this particular area. Not only is this the site of the main portage between the St Lawrence and the Saint John watersheddings, the view down the lake from the roof of the watchtower is stunning.

Any group of people fortifying this spot not only would control the portage, but would control the water traffic travelling up and down the lake and thus cut off all of the communications and trade between Lower Canada and the Maritime Provinces.

heavy traffic trans canada highway quebec canadaAfter much binding in the marsh, my road takes me back to the Trans-Canada Highway over the Appalachians.

When you look at all of these lorries coming along here from Halifax and Saint John, it really does make you think about the people in charge of the Témiscouata Railway who couldn’t make the railway line pay back in the 1980s.

Put the loads of just a quarter of these lorries onto the rails, powered by the electricity created by the hydro plants along the line, and not only would you have a thriving railway line, you would also have a great deal less pollution and environmental scarring of the landscape.

And the way that oil prices are going and all of the electricity that Canada can create, Canada will come to regret slashing its rail network to shreds.

junk yard aladdin's cave quebec canadaRegular readers of this rubbish will recall the yard of Les Oakes in Cheadle, Staffordshire. I always thought of that place being unique in the world,and so I was astonished to find the same place here in Quebec.

It’s another old guy who travels the country looking for “exhibits” to collect and restore, just like Les Oakes, and he took the trouble to show me around.

I was speechless (which doesn’t happen all that often, does it?) and I made a note of the address so that I can come back here again to scavenge stuff for my property.

wooden trestle bridge quebec canadaOooohhhhhh!!! Look what I have found!!!

At one time, the entire railway network of North America was built on wooden trestle bridges and viaducts but little by little, they have been replaced. You will have to look long and hard to find one that survived.

And here we are, in the Appalachians on an old dirt-track road and the trackbed of the old Temiscouata Railway passes overhead on a trestle bridge. This has cheered me up considerably.

stunning cloud formations quebec canadaMy route to the river is going over some impressive roads, thanks to The Lady Who Lives In The SatNav.

But it’s not just the roads that are impressive, it’s the weather, and in particular, the cloud formations. This is one of the most stunning cloud formations that I’ve ever seen, Spanish Plumes not excluded.

And you’ll notice that the light is now slowly starting to go. I need to put my foot down.

st lawrence river riviere du loup quebec canadaAt last I encounter the St Lawrence River – right down there between the towns of Riviere du Loup and Trois Pistoles, as taken from a ridge just outside the town of St Paul de la Croix.

Once I hit the shore, I’ll be looking for a place to stay the night and then head to Montreal. This will be my last night of sleeping in the Dodge as tomorrow night I’ll be in a motel so that I can properly wash all of my crockery and cutlery before I file them away in my storage locker until next time.

I can’t wait to come back.

Friday 23rd September 2011 – I DON’T REMEMBER …

rest area trans canada highway exit 253 kings landing new brunswick canada… switching off the car engine last night. I crashed out completely almost as soon as I pulled up on this service area at exit 253 on the Trans Canada Highway, just up the road from King’s Landing.

It was cold when I woke up, with a light drizzle coming down. But a cup of coffee soon warmed me up and I carried on northwards towards Rachel’s to say goodbye.

abandoned railway line saint john river new brunswick canada There’s an old abandoned railway line that runs from Woodstock to St Andrews, and these railway wagons over there might give me a clue as to where the tracks might have been – it’s not easy trying to trace abandoned railway lines in Canada, unlike in the UK where every last metre has been recorded.

The wagons here are for sale so that’s interesting, but I wonder if the railway line is included in the deal.

presque isle stream saint john river florenceville new brunswick canadaMy road round to Rachel’s took me past the Presque Isle stream. We saw that a few days ago at the other end of Centreville near the USA border, and here is where it flows into the Saint John River just a couple of miles below the town of Florenceville.

It’s quite a surprise not to see an kind of settlement around the confluence of a couple of rivers.

After all of the goodbyes and so on, I left Centreville at 21:30 to break the back of the journey to Montreal, but I didn’t make much ground. The nearer I came to Edmundston, the more my eyes started to close, and when I reached the big Irvings truckstop on the Quebec border I called it a night.

Friday 16th September 2011 – IT POURED DOWN …

… all through the night and we had high winds too, but I slept right through it – didn’t feel a thing.

It’s overcast and cloudy but they reckon that it might clear so with a light heart and a spring in my step, I set off for Fredericton.

GIT numberplate fredericton new brunswick canadaFirst stop was the big Atlantic superstore on the edge of the city, and this caught my eye. Vehicle number plates go up to 999 here in New Brunswick, which is just as well.

They also go up to 999 in the UK so it’s also just as well that this combination of letters would never be issued over there, because 999 wouldn’t be anything like enough.

coffee cup holder kiddie's pushchair new brunswick canadaAnother thing that they would never dare sell in the UK would be a kiddie’s push-chair with a coffee cup holder like this one here.

It wouldn’t be a coffee cup that you would find in the cup holder, and it wouldn’t be an ice-cream holder that you would find in there either. In fact, it’s quite surprising the things that you find on sale here in North America that would never be sold in the UK – or maybe it isn’t.

justice building fredericton new brunswick canadaThat building over there has “Justice” written on it, so it’s probably quite appropriate that it’s hidden behind a pile of trees.

It also has two dates on it. The first one is 1878 and the second one is 1930, and so maybe the first one is the date that Justice began in Fredericton and the second date is the date that Justice ceased. I dunno.

But I will really have to stop being so cynical.

british army barracks fredericton new brunswick canadaThese are the old British Army barracks here in Queen Street. The British Army were here from 1784 to 1869, and was chefly known as the home of the 104th New Brunswick Regiment.

They were famous for a forced march of 700 miles in just 52 days to Kingston, Ontario through the snows of winter in 1813 during the war with the USA

city hall fredericton new brunswick canadaThis building that we have here is the old Fredericton City Hall. Built in 1876, it’s the oldest Municipal building in the Maritimes that is still in administrative use, and has been a Canadian National Historic Site since 23rd November 1984.

It’s quite rare in that it was built with a market hall underneath and which survived until as recently as 1951. Nowadays, the Tourist information department is housed there

george street blues project harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaBy now the weather had brightened up a little and the festival was under way.

On stage at the Officers Square was a local band, the George Street Blues Project. Too many musicians on stage for me, unfortunately. They can lose the harmonica player for a start as I’m not a very big fan of those. Every blues band believes that a harmonica is essential, yet very few harmonica players can play one properly.

george street blues project harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaThe guy at the front had an enormous amount of stage present and knew how to move a crowd, and they rocked along with numbers such as Otis Redding’s “Hard to Handle” and the Smokey Robinson hit “Get Ready”.

For an encore, they played the Kix Brooks number “Sacred Ground”, and that was that. I quite enjoyed that set.

Next up was an act called Christine Crowell, but the saxophones, trumpets and sheet music looked onimous and so I made my excuses and left. I had business elsewhere.

First step was to find the Canadian Government department dealing with commercial visas for people setting up businesses in Canada. After much searching and enlistment of the Fredericton City Hall, we eventually discovered that I need to speak to the Population Growth Secretariat (but why them I have no idea).

Kings Tower is where I’m supposed to be, and it has a shopping centre in it. Yes, a shopping centre, not a shopping mall. There’s hope for these Canadians yet.

Eventually I cut through swathes of red tape and blagged myself an interview with them. Her first question was, surprisingly enough, “how would your project help the growth of New Brunswick’s population?”
Never one to hold back when the occasion presents it self (as I have done so often in the past to my cost) I replied “if I told you that you would probably have me arrested”.
She tried again “we are trying to encourage the growth of young families here”
“Well”, I replied, “just because I look over the hill doesn’t mean that I am, and I still have considerable expectations along that line. If a suitable young woman were to present herself, I shall certainly try my best to increase the population of New Brunswick”.

And so she had another go. “You need to show some kind of proof of ability to invest $75,000 in your project”
“Well, I can put on the table proof of about $300,000 in cash” I replied. “Would that do?” Yes, I’ve just sold my apartment in Brussels, haven’t I, and I still have the cheque, which I haven’t deposited yet.

I picked up her pencil and notepad from the floor and handed it back to her, and I have to come back for my visa interview next Friday.

I popped round to the Festival Offices and had a chat with one of the girls there. And during this chat, the subject of “Radio Anglais
” came up. She asked about it, and so I told her, and then she asked me why I hadn’t applied for a Media Pass. Apparently I’m entitled to one, being the representative of a Media outlet.

So armed with my Media Pass, I went back to the festival.

chevrolet corvette 1978 fredericton new brunswick canadaI was however sidetracked, as you might expect, by an old and interesting vehicle.

This is a Chevrolet Corvette, from 1978 if the number plate is anything to go by, but it is certainly one of the later “3rd-Generation” Corvettes, judging by the rear lights. But it’s a little bit scruffy with a few scratches on the paintwork.

mike biggar harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaIn the Barracks Square tent was a guitarist called Mike Biggar. He comes from Rothesay which apparently is a suburb of Saint John.

He played a number that went something like “You Come To Me Like Sunset On The Water” or some such, that I don’t recall having heard before but it really was superb. I wish that I knew what it was.

24 pesos harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaOn stage at the Officers Square was a band from London – that’s the UK, not Ontario – called 24 Pesos. They had won some kind of competition, the prize of which was to come over here and play at the Harvest Jazz and Blues Festival.

It was a sort of modern blues, not really my scene, but there was no disputing the quality of the band. Their music really was good.

lonesome line harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaI went back to the Barracks Square after that, and discovered a band called Lonesome Line on stage. They come from Edmundston up in Madawaska and so we had an interesting little chat in French.

I wasn’t convinced by the wisdom of having an acoustic double-bass in an act like this. It doesn’t work when you are backing a lead guitar solo as you have so far to travel and so you can’t react quickly enough. And you will have noticed that it’s the drummer doing the backing vocals.

barracks square fredericton new brunswick canadaA pause in the proceedings enabled me to have a good look around the Barracks Square. We’ve seen the Barracks earlier, and this is the rear of the premises. It’s a grassy lawn in the quadrangle that will produce an interesting situation for the spectators if we have heavy rain.

The ground floor of the barracks here is transformed into little boutiques occupied by craft artists and the like but there’s not very much of interest to me.

lonesome line winners of competition harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaApparently there had been some kind of competition between the bands that were playing in the Barracks Square, and the winners were Lonesome Line, those who we saw just now.

And I was outraged by that. Lonesome Line were indeed quite good but there was no doubt in my mind that Mike Biggar was 10 times better and should have won this competition by a country mile. Still, I’ve often found myself in a minority of one at this Festival, so no reason to suppose that today will be any different.

buskers with police interaction harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaThere were quite a few buskers here and there around the town, including this couple playing down underneath the footbridge at the back of the library.

As the police car turned down there and pulled up close to them, I prepared the camera ready to record an “interaction” between the farces of Law and Order and the musicians. After all, I’m from the UK

buskers with police interaction harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaAnd sure enough, the window came down, the hand went out of the car and then, much to my surprise, the fingers came out and started tapping on the door in time to the music.

Like I say, I’m from the UK. I was half expecting to see an arrest on “public order” issues, a knee in the groin and a truncheon across the back of the neck.

And that reminds me – that’s the third policeman that I’ve seen since the festival started. Just imagine that in the UK. Three policemen in a couple of days at a do like this. There would be thousands.

That is, if the event were to take place at all. The British Health and Safety Inspectorate would have a field day with what I have seen here this last couple of days and the event would be closed down in minutes.

I hope that the Health and Safety Inspecorate is never imported into Canada

fraser and the offspring irving steps harvest jazz and blues festival fredericton new brunswick canadaI encountered a couple more buskers around the corner. On the steps of the Irving Building in Queen Street. These are called something like “Fraser and the Offspring” or some such name – it was very hard to hear.

I’ve seen many an impromptu band like this and indeed I’ve played bass and sang in quite a few, and these weren’t all that bad at all. I quite enjoyed listening to them and so did the little crowd that had gathered around them.

From here I went off to watch Taj Mahal in concert. No photography allowed at the Playhouse Theatre, but not to worry – I’ll catch up with them again in a public venue.

Friday 29th October 2010 – THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE BEEN AROUND HERE FOR A WHILE …

avro lancaster bomber KB882 edmundston new brunswick canada… will know all about this aeroplane as you have seen it all before.

It’s KB882, a Lancaster from World War II and it is one of only three “combat veterans” still in existence. It flew to Edmundston airport under its own steam in 1964 and ever since then it’s been stuck outside in all kinds of weather gradually deteriorating.

I spotted it in 2001 and ever since then I’ve been fighting single-handedly (I do other things with my other hand) to persuade the clowns in whose hands this historic machine has fallen to surrender it up to the Imperial War Museum or some other worthy organisation who can put a stop to this disgraceful neglect and get it back into the air before it falls apart.

avro lancaster bomber KB882 edmundston new brunswick canadaIn 2006 I was told that things might be happening and so being only 150 miles away from it I drove out this afternoon to see what they have done.

And the answer is

  1. they’ve put a better fence around it
  2. they’ve raised it off the ground
  3. … errrr …..
  4. that’s it

What is happening to this machine is nothing short of a national scandal, a total disgrace and the city of Edmundston should be thoroughly ashamed of itself. In the 9 years since I last saw it it has simply rotted away even further.

So having expected that, my blood has been boiling all day and it’ll continue to boil for a while I suppose.


and that’s not all I’ve done. In order to cool off, I retraced my steps from 2001 and retook a few pics of the falls at Grand Sault.

When I was here back then, the falls were all frozen up (mind you, it was midwinter at the time) and so I wanted a few with the water actually unfrozen, as well as a few other photos of interest that I missed when I was up here.

mars hill wind farm maine usaBut I did get sidetracked a little … "no surprises there" – ed.

From Rachel and Darren’s house I could see a pile of wind turbines away in the distance to the north of Centreville and so I wandered off for a closer look. And at one stage I was so close to them that I could almost touch them, and my route towards them led off down a little country lane called Mars Hill Road.

international frontier usa canada maine new brunswick mars hill road upper knoxfordAnd here I came to a dead stop as here on this hill the road also comes to a dead stop.

This is a frontier between the USA and Canada, and an unguarded frontier at that, although I do suspect that the barbed wire, searchlights, man-traps and machine guns are in that forest somewhere and that the purpose of the wind turbines is not to power up the local villages but to power the spy machines lurking in the woods.

abandoned building for sale mars hill road upper knoxford new brunswick canadaThe actual border is that orange fence to the left and this building here, Darren seems to think, might possibly be the old Canadian customs post from when this was a manned … "personned" – ed … crossing back in the distant past.

>And it’s for sale, even though it’s totally derelict. And I have a cunning plan.

Now just suppose I buy it and demolish the property that’s on it. I could erect a huge billboard and use it to display Anti-American slogans and then set up some loudspeakers to broadcast propaganda messages into the USA from here.

If it works for the North Koreans who habitually do this to the South, no reason why I can’t do it from here into the USA.