My Blue (Red & Green) Heaven!

June 9 – 12, 2006
The Confederation Bridge between New Brunswick and PEI is an awe-inspiring structure – nine miles long and we were oh so glad it wasn’t windy. As a matter of fact, the clouds were miraculously clearing and blue skies lay ahead of us in PEI.

We used our Passport America membership at a campsite not too far from the bridge. We planned to stay for three or four days so didn’t want a Walmart. The central location of the Sun ‘n Shade Campground made it easy to do day trips around the three designated scenic drives in PEI, using the Honda. I don’t think I’d like the campsite in tourist season, because the grassy sites are very narrow. We didn’t have anyone near us at all which gave us a lot of privacy and an outlook of velvety green lawn. The owner/manager who signed me in, was a very dour woman. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get her smiling. She spoke in a monotone and narrated her spiel as if she’d said it a million times before. “The Confederation Trail is at the rear of the campground and if you walk that way for 15 minutes, you’ll get to a Tim Horton’s. If you want seafood, go to the front and 100 yards down the road is a good seafood shop with good prices”. Friday and Saturday nights, the owners have entertainment in their community lounge. She and her husband belong to a bluegrass band and jam it up. We were invited but got back so late each day, we were just too tired – and anyway we’re not really bluegrass aficionados.


Our first day, we circled the central portion on the ‘Blue Heron’ route. Our initial impression of PEI is somewhat like that of Jacques Cartier – it is one of the most green and beautiful, pastoral places on earth. The red earth furrowed with newly planted potatoes contrasted with the bright lush green of the fields spread like carpets to the azure shore. The shallow water of the ocean was blood red reflecting the colour of the clay coloured sand; marshes full of herons and other water birds surrounded the meandering rivers; rolling hills with tall gabled and shuttered houses peeking through the trees; church spires – some pointy/some blunt could be seen here and there; coves sheltered fishing boats; quaint and peaceful little villages. It is a province of such vivid colour, like precious gems – ruby, emerald and sapphire.

Cavendish, where ‘Green Gables’ is situated has been turned into another tourist nightmare with all those ‘attractions’ to throw away their money on. In 1970, there was just the house and the expanse of lawn.
Just a few miles down the road from Cavendish, we stopped for dinner at a huge restaurant called ‘New Glasgow Lobster Suppers’, one of many such establishments around the island. We had a meal to die for, starting with delicious lobster chowder, a huge bowl of steamed mussels, fresh baked buns, cole slaw, potato salad and green salad. All of the preceding was in unlimited portions. Fernie had more chowder and I had an encore of mussels and I put a few mussels aside for Caesar who was waiting patiently in the car.

The piece de resistance was next – our one-pound each of lobster with dipping butter. It melted in our mouths. Fernie chose a Nova Scotia Chablis to accompany it and it was surprisingly good. Julie, our friendly server entertained us with tales of the island as she brought us each course. This wasn’t the end of our over-indulgent feast – huge slabs of lemon meringue pie, Fernie’s with a mound of vanilla ice cream on the side. The ice cream was made ‘just down the road’ – from those Guernsey cows we see all over the place, I guess. Fernie, the ice cream gourmet, gave it a score of 10 out of 10. When we were offered a plate of assorted cakes, we both groaned in unison “Noooooo thank-you” but we accepted the offer of tea, which was brewed – not a teabag in the cup. The price of this food orgy was just $27.95 each – a terrific bargain.

Caesar snoozed in the car while we had dinner but his head popped up when he smelled the mussels I’d brought for him. At least, his injury hasn’t taken his appetite. He slurped them down quickly with drooling delight.

The second day, we decided on the ‘Points East Coastal Drive’, which twisted and turned along the north-east coast to East Point at the tip of PEI and back along the south coast. We awoke to a warm and dry but misty day. The sun managed to burn through the mist every now and then but it wasn’t as glorious as yesterday. The north coast is the wild blustery side of the island and is not so developed. Shifting dunes border the long stretches of wild desolate powdery sand beaches. The sand is lighter in colour than the red sand of the south shore from the pounding of the open sea waves. Greenwich National Park protecting the dune environment had an interesting interpretation centre where we spent an hour learning about mussel culture, lobster fishing, animal & bird life in the dunes, 10,000 years of PEI’s habitation; Miq-maq culture. You might think it all sounds tedious but it was quite stimulating. We were the lone visitors.

North Lake on the remote north coast is a fishing village that bills itself as the ‘Tuna Capital of PEI’ and it’s a busy little port, boats coming and going. Deep-sea fishing charters were available from every available fisherman, it appeared. It seems that every farm in PEI has cottages for rent or a B&B, so I’m imagining that the island in July and August is just teeming with visitors and wouldn’t be anywhere near so appealing. The whole island is riddled with cottages and B&B’s so there’s a huge market.

We felt such an affinity for this exquisite little island. Never before have we seen a place where every citizen takes such pride in his or her surroundings. Every lawn was manicured even when the homes were surrounded by acres of grass. Every homeowner had a ride-em tractor lawn mower and they’d mow before any shaggy appearance marred the perfection. The houses echoed the pristine surroundings – sparkling white or fresh pastels, which blended with the environment. Even the verges beside the roads were mowed which lent a neat and tidy park-like appearance.

We could easily imagine buying a piece of oceanfront property and building a Victorian gabled house with a wide porch surrounding it – and a high tower with a 360-degree view. The property is so affordable – oceanfront lots for less than $100,000. The lifestyle wouldn’t have suited us when we were younger and craved more civilized and sophisticated diversions but we’ve mellowed with age. However, we looked at Maggie and realized that she could give us a share of everywhere we love in North America. I don’t think we’d be content for long in one place --- not yet anyway.

Charlottetown, the capital has a population of only 64,000 which is 50% of the island’s total. We found parking spots without meters just off the main street in the residential area near the waterfront, which is still full of the grand old mansions of yesteryear.
The main street was lined with cozy coffee shops, enchanting little bookstores, charming restaurants and there was ample diagonal parking all along it.

In the afternoon, as we returned along the south coast, the weather changed and it started to rain. The rain got heavier and heavier so we beetled for home where we did our laundry and settled in for the night. No lobster tonight – a mushroom omelette instead.

It just poured torrents in the middle of the night. . I just love to be tucked in warmly with the rat-a-tat of the rain on the roof, which made our cocoon so cosy. It was dreary when we started off the next morning but it didn’t rain much and every so often the sun would force its way through bathing us in its warmth.

We headed for the ‘North Cape Coastal Drive’ the final of the designated drives. In the middle of the cape stands the ‘Potato Capital of PEI’, a town pioneered by the Irish from the family O’Leary and was thus named O’Leary. You might have noticed that my ‘pen-name’ for this blog is O’Leary – my maternal grandmother’s family name. Having been brought up by an Irish mother who regaled me with stories of her heritage, of Ireland, of the Potato famine, of her mother who was a suffragette, I was drawn to O’Leary, PEI like a moth to a flame.
A charming farm town, it houses the ‘Potato Museum’ in front of which stands the ”World’s largest potato”. I don’t know why they put a hockey stick in front of the big spud though.

As we had missed visiting (on our first day) the PEI National Park on the north coast near Cavendish, we returned in the afternoon. The park includes Green Gables, which is now a National Historic Site and with our annual pass, do you think I’d miss a ‘free’ entry? Green Gables was not the home of Lucy Maude Montgomery, the author of Anne of Green Gables, but it belonged to her distant cousins. She lived just down the road with her grandparents and loved the idyllic home so much that she based the house in the story on it. The house is lovely in the style of the day – early 1900’s but the property is even more so. They have copied the ideas from the book and incorporated them into the forest, stream and paths making it a delightful hour spent prowling around. It made me want to re-read Anne of Green Gables.

The remainder of the National Park stretches along the beach just north of Cavendish – with miles of dunes held together with Marram Grass. Caesar was still unable to walk and so we didn’t take too many hikes along the trails. He’s just too heavy and we feel guilty leaving him in the car. He is learning to get along on three legs in an awkward gait but he tires easily and is a bit afraid of being too far from home. He’s in good spirits in spite of it and accepts his injury with patience.

We stopped at a pub in Stanley Bridge, the Oyster Capital of PEI and naturally had oysters. They were much smaller than our BC ones and not half as tasty. I think we’ll stick to the lobster in future.