My Middle Name is Anne

Trip Start Jun 06, 2004

Trip End Jun 30, 2004

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Flag of Canada Cavendish, Prince Edward Island, Canada
Sunday, June 20, 2004

The sun is shining when we finally awake. I hadn't realized that everything in the tank bag was wet, too, and it had stayed simmering in its juices all night, so we spread the contents out in the strong wind while packing, hoping to at least halt algae growth. We finally get the whole shebang repacked and leave at 10, one of our latest starts. We decide to do a combination of fast highway and slow but scenic coastal route, since I am determined not to miss PEI. I am named after Anne with an "E" (my middle name)and have read the whole series repeatedly throughout my life, including a recent read-aloud to Henry and his daughter, not to mention almost all of Montgomery's other books. Besides, how could we claim to go across Canada and miss an entire province? We follow the sunny Miramichi back to the coast and enjoy a marvelously dry run to Cocagne, where we stop for lunch. I have a chicken pie which is yummy but contains absolutely no vegetables. They do give me one iceberg lettuce leaf and 2 olive-sized tomatoes

A few of the lupins

. Henry's burger is just meat and bun. I don't see why they don't all die of malnutrition.

The roadsides are covered with purple and pink lupins and the sea is sapphire blue. Suddenly we spot the long, flat arc of Confederation Bridge, looking too big to be real. We pull into a nature reserve/tourist info at the base of the bridge to see if it is safe for us to cross, since the wind is so strong. They say yes, the sides are 4 feet high solid concrete. We climb the observation tower for a glorious view of the strait, wend quickly through the exhibits, take a path we think will take us back to the main building, and end up exactly where we started, laughing. We finally find the right path and buy a NB decal and a NS decal in the gift shop. We scrupulously refrain from putting on the NS decal until we actually get there.

The bridge is scary! I hold on tight as the wind buffets us. Unlike car travellers, we can see right over the side and far, far down to the ocean, which we fervently hope to avoid toppling into. Gateway Village at the far end of the bridge is a tourist trap wart on the beautiful face of PEI. We go in solely to get a PEI decal and map. There are shirts claiming to be dyed with red PEI soil, and when we see the actual dirt we can believe it

Confederation Bridge

. It is SO red! The land is beautiful, with rust-red ploughed fields going right down to the deep blue sea, and bright green trees and bushes lining the sides. But I wish I was wearng my leather pants; Montgomery's Wind Woman is all too evident. We try to follow the Blue Heron scenic route, but it is not nearly as well-marked as the NB ones. Our meanderings take us past many beautiful houses anyway. We drive past a big factory--no need to ask what it makes, as the delicious smell of cooking potatoes fills the air: we have found McCain's. The tourist places have cute russet "potatoes" made of PEI dirt. Having crossed the island to the north coast, we see a barn with "Green Gables Museum" on it, and a sign by a pretty lake: "Lake of Shining Waters". Opposite is a white house labelled as that of Montgomery's grandfather, "Ingleside". It is nowhere near as big as I had pictured Ingleside, and I had always thought of it as brown. These are all prime Anne locations, but we are nowhere near Cavendish, which is the real-life Avonlea of the books, so we think they must just be tourist traps and don't stop. Later, though, I realize that these were the original locations which Montgomery had transposed to other places, and I regret missing them a little. But really I am just interested in getting the overall flavour of the island. The shore is very corrugated and lovely. We see a town built way out on a very narrow spit. Finally we come to "Cavendish"--really just a bunch of tourist traps, with no actual village that we can find

Too windy to look at the bridge

. We go to the national park and decide to camp there, setting up the tent amid wind and mosquitos. It doesn't really seem fair to have both at once! We go to see Green Gables itself, which is mercifully set away from the road with trees and fields around it, looking exactly as it should. Since it is Sunday and after hours there is nobody else around, and I pay contented homage from a distance. Then we find one of the more respectable-looking stores and I buy a copy of "The Road to Yesterday" to read to Henry. It is a collection of short stories I have never read nor even heard of. A grocery store yields the ingredients for a stew supper and a porridge breakfast. Back at the campsite, a brazen raccoon comes right up to our table. Henry chases it away temporarily, but it is a good warning and we string our groceries up on a tree branch, since we have no car to lock them into. We walk along the ruddy sand dunes for a little, but the wind defeats us and we retire to the shelter of the pines and our tent. The cellphone works for once, so Henry calls his daughter and I leave a Father's Day greeting for my dad before we snuggle down for the night.