Going over the bridge back to the mainland from St Joe this morning was a little melancholy, but that was offset by the excitement of heading for somewhere new to lay my head tonight.

After the compulsory stop at Timmy’s in Blind River (a new improved Timmy’s since my last visit there) I retraced my steps east on Highway 17 almost to Sudbury. I turned south on highway 69 toward my eventual destination of Toronto. But just 35 or so kilometers south of the turnoff I turned east onto Highway 637 bound for Killarney. I had heard great things about this place and was looking forward to an exploratory overnight diversion.

I was surprised a little by Killarney. It was more bustling than I thought it would be. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the middle of summer though so really, what was I thinking?

I drove down the main drag and could tell from the line up that the most popular stop in town was the Fish and Chips window at Herbert Fishery. (The picture was taken at 8 am the next morning, so no line). There were lots and lots of families enjoying the lovely weather and the amazing scenery. Killarney is situated on Killarney Narrows between a mainland peninsula and George Island. The narrows is really narrow! So it’s a logical and very effective moorage for the boats sailing, paddling and motoring through the North Channel of Lake Huron. I over heard people who were off a tour boat whose next stop was Little Current, on Manitoulin Island. How lucky they were for this fabulous day. I don’t imagine, as pretty as it is, that it would be quite to gorgeous on a rainy, cold, windy day, not to mention a winter one!

I headed to the Killarney Mountain Lodge at the west end of the narrows where I would be staying tonight. My room wouldn’t be ready for some time, so I grabbed a table on the patio and enjoyed a Caesar salad with smoked trout. It was really lovely.

Then instead of just wandering through town or enjoying the pool and other hotel facilities, and despite the fact that it was 28 or so degrees, I decided to take the opportunity to hike out to the lighthouse on a trail I’d read about. I was not as prepared as I should have been and despite the clouds of mosquitos, mud, slippery rocks because of my muddy shoes and the sun/heat, it was an awesome hike. Finding the trailhead was a little iffy because of the construction of a new conference centre on the property, almost exactly where the trailhead started. But with the help of one of the staff members I found it. Aside from the start, the trail was really well marked, with fluorescent paint spots and ties on trees, with older yellow arrows on the rocks, and with the most artistic markings painted in red (for the direction of the lighthouse) and white (for the direction home). Between all of the indications I managed to find my way to the lighthouse and more importantly, home.

The trail started out in the forest and fortunately the shade, but the mosquitos were a little ferocious. Eventually the path started up hill and there was some scrambling on the rocks and boulders to a perch high on a hill where you could look over the forest, into the narrows and out to the lake and see there in the distance, the lighthouse. I eventually figured out that the drumming I was hearing was not local indigenous peoples but my heart pounding hard with the exertion. I actually had a moment of considering taking a picture and heading back, with only half the hike done, but I decided to persevere and make it the rest of the way.

The reward was a great view of the lighthouse and a well deserved rest nestled in the smooth rocks of the shoreline. (Also dessert at dinner tonight!). As always the return trip didn’t seem as long. Why is that? And I was back, with lessons learned as usual. Don’t forget the bug spray, sunscreen, water and maybe go early or later, and not in the heat of the day. Sigh. I’m 62. When do you suppose I’ll learn these life lessons.

I was finally able to check in and made my way to my cute little bungalow. It’s just a bedroom and bath, but boy did the bed look comfortable! I looked in the mirror and wondered why on earth the front desk actually gave me a key. I had a streak of mud down my cheek, my hair was practically standing on end from the breeze and my face was a fluorescent pink. Wild man of Borneo comes to mind. Not sure where that expression even comes from.

After a shower and bit of a rest, I headed to the dining room for dinner. I had heard how great the food was, and that boats come up to Killarney just to eat at the Lodge. And they weren’t exaggerating. I had an all fish protein day. I started with smoked trout salad which was just a small portion of fish and lettuce in a nice dressing. Then I had a Canadian Two Fish dinner. Pickerel and Whitefish pan fried, with a sweet potato and wild rice mash, and a kale salad. My reward for the hike was a lemon pound cake with lemon curd and blueberry compote on the side. Yum.

A walk along the narrows was my last treat of the day and now I’m going to really enjoy my luxurious bed in the complete quiet and darkness of the Canadian wilderness.

In 2000, Dave and I bought a treed lot with 100 foot frontage on the North Channel of Lake Heron. It was on Canoe Point Road on St. Joseph Island, near the tiny community of Hilton Beach, Ontario. How did we come to be there? you ask. Dave had spent summers in the area because his maternal grandparents had a home on Kensington Point Road on the mainland, just across a narrow straight from the island. After decades of having not been back, Dave visited the area in the fall of 1999 while at a sales meeting nearby and his interest in the area was rekindled. We all visited again in the summer of 2000 and I fell in love with the area as well. Over the winter of 2000/2001, a summer home was built according to our specifications and in March of 2001 we (and by we, I mean Dave) spent spring break putting together something like 42 boxes of IKEA furniture. We spent summers at 2732 Canoe Point Road until our separation in fall of 2007. While that's a relatively short time in the overall scheme of my life, those summers have had a lasting impression.

St Joseph Island is the most westerly of a chain of islands that runs west from Manitoulin Island. The channel on the west side of the island, is part of the Great Lakes shipping channel and the shore across the channel is the U.S.A. These islands are actually a continuation of the Niagara Escarpment and a ferry even joins Manitoulin Island with the Bruce Peninsula, also part of the escarpment. You may recall I was in Tobermory at the tip of the Bruce Peninsula as part of my tour of Ontario last summer.

The island has an interesting history, having been on the main route of the early fur trade, and being in a strategic location during the War of 1812. Fort St Joseph was the most westerly British fort in 1812, and it's here that the British staged their troops for their attack on American Fort Mackinaw, the first victory in the War of 1812. The fort was burned to the ground and not rebuilt but Parks Canada has an interesting presentation centre, some of the foundations remain and there are still archeological digs of the site when funds allow.

The summer people almost double the population on St Joe and they come from an amazing variety of places. A lot of people from Sault Ste Marie have their places here, but people come from as far as Vancouver (us!), Ottawa, Ohio, Texas, Illinois Georgia, Windsor, and Michigan. There is a significant American population among the summer people who have been coming to their summer homes, mostly on the small islands dotting the North Channel and St Joe for generations. The sailing is magnificent, with all sorts of interesting exploring, and races are regularly organized.

St Joe is covered in maple trees and some of the earliest homesteaders were the Norwegian Gilbertson family. Bernt Gilberston established a maple syrup business on St Joe before becoming a Progressive Conservative Member of the Provincial Parliament (MPP) for the area. Gilbertson Maple Syrup Products is still in business and is the largest producer of Maple Syrup in Ontario. In the fall the island is a riot of colour as the maple trees turn to shades of rust, orange and red.

The island and area is rich with artists and one of the Island's best known characters is Doug Hook, a watercolour artist who often paints island scenes. I love his work, and we often attended his annual art show in Richards Landing. We bought a print of one of his paintings of a lighthouse near our cottage, so we had something in common with His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, since he also owns one of Doug's paintings! Although I guess his is an original.

A unique thing found on the island is "puddingstone". This area is the only location this jasper conglomerate is found. It gets it name because it looks somewhat like pudding with raisins and plums in it because of the colours of the inclusions.

While we had the cottage, I drove out from Vancouver in May each year, with the SUV full of "stuff" we'd accumulated over the year for the summer place, and I stayed until Labour Day when I made the reverse trip with a now empty SUV except for the litres of maple syrup produced on the island. I usually made the trip in 3 and a half days, although now I don't think I'd be able to manage that. Dave and Gill would fly out once school was out, and Dave would travel back and forth as business required. I worked on business and politics (mostly) from there, often taking conference calls while sitting on the deck watching the boats on the lake.

Those summers were some of my happiest. Something about driving over the Bernt Gilberston Bridge on to the island that allowed stress to miraculously disappear. Things don't change much on "St Joe" from year to year and maybe that's part of it's charm. The businesses stay pretty much the same, and many of the annual events and activities have been happening for decades. The people, both locals and "summer people", are just lovely.

This summer I wanted to visit with my friend Marilyn (who you would have met twice already if you read my blog on my North America No Fixed Address Tour), and so I decided to come to the island timed to coincide with the Richards Landing Community Night, which is where I first met Marilyn several years ago. The drive from Deep River yesterday, where I stopped over night, was fabulous. The weather was absolutely ideal to enjoy the amazing scenery and last evening's community night.

There are two community nights held every summer on the Island, one in Richards Landing and one in Hilton Beach. They are only a few kilometers apart but two distinct and some might say, competitive communities. We usually also took in Community Nights or Canada Day activities in a couple of the surrounding communities of Desbarats (pronounced Debra), Bruce Mines and Thessalon. Community night traditions include a parade, with first responder vehicles, vintage cars, kids on decorated bikes and those dressed in costumes, floats from some of the island's businesses and groups and always leading it off, the Sault Ste Marie Pipe Band. There is even a train ride for the kids. There are food booths, run by the various service and interest groups to raise funds for their activities. There is always a quilt raffle. I never win. There are games of chance and of skill, along with a dunk tank. All evening, for the cost of a single ticket or an arm full, there are chances to win huge stuffed animals. I never win that either.

But I think most of all, community night is about islanders and those from around these parts getting together to chat with their neighbours. I saw some people that I've become friends with over the years (including Elizabeth and Andy who live in Ottawa as well) and that was happening all over the grounds. The weather was a prime topic of discussion since farming is one of the mainstays of the local economy. The farmers couldn't get on the fields to get the hay crop cut when it was at its prime and while they're able to get into some fields now, the crop is of far lesser quality.

Oh wait, I forgot to mention PIE. One of the hottest food booths is always the pie booth and once again last night they were sold out before the evening was over. I hardly ever eat pie, but those pies made by the folks on St Joe are to die for. I always go for the wild blueberry ones and last night was no exception and I wasn't disappointed. Marilyn had rhubarb which looked amazing as well.

I had forgotten how quiet it is here on St Joe until I got into bed last night and with the windows open to take advantage of the cool breeze, I heard nothing, absolutely nothing. Quite amazing. This morning was bright and sunny and cool. Just the way I like it. Marilyn picked me up and we were off to get some breakfast and go exploring. Another day in paradise.

Before hitting one of my favourite restaurants, Bobbers, right on Highway 17 in Bruce Mines for breakfast we stopped at the Farmers Market in Desbarats. There is now a purpose built roof under which vendors from the local community were selling everything from locally made soap to hand made items knit from alpaca wool (the animals are bred locally) to the usual and great looking produce. Things were bustling! Then it was over to Bruce Station a small community just minutes away for a live auction. It's been a while since I've been to one and you could see how easily you could get caught up in the excitement. People really were getting extraordinary deals on all sorts of house wares. Then it was back to the island and a tour of the gift shops in Richards Landing, a drive by Sailers Encampment to see how high the water is there, and we lucked in to seeing a freighter going through the channel on it's way to the Sault. We ended up at Hilton Beach where we strolled along the marina, listening to the soft tinkling of the stays on the sail boats and enjoying the warm sun. We stopped to visit with a friend of Marilyn's on his boat to wish him a happy 93rd birthday. He had just come back in from a sail with his family.

We had dinner on an outdoor patio overlooking the marina and then headed back to Richards Landing where Marilyn and I sat quite happily and watched the boats come and go from that harbour. Some were coming in to gas up, others tied up while their passengers headed up the main street to the ice cream shop. We sat for at least an hour, just soaking in the warm evening and the fabulous views. What an incredible day. So much fun and so relaxing. Now I remember why I love this island so much. I'm totally at peace here.

A huge thanks to my friend Marilyn for such a lovely day spent in easy companionship and for letting me sit back and be the passenger.

 

 

Sunday night I was too tired to finish up my blog so I left if for today so it would be somewhere near coherent.

Sunday morning dawned cool but beautiful and it warmed up in no time.  We were so fortunate to have such grand weather for our adventure to Quebec City.

We were up and out by 7:30 a.m., but it’s guaranteed that the crews of the 40 Tall Ships were up well before that. After four days in the port of Quebec City welcoming thousands aboard their ships, the flotilla got ready to sail down the mighty St. Lawrence for Cornerbrook, NL, and then on to Halifax, NS and Saint John, NB. Most of the ships had already pushed away from the docks and headed upriver under power by the time we got down to the boardwalk just in time to see the last of the largest ships heading up river. We joined the other spectators anticipating their arrival at a spot along the boardwalk railing at the base of the Chateau Frontenac.   Upriver and out of sight, the ships came about and set and hoisted their sails despite the only 5 mph winds.  We spent the next hour clinging to the railing and hoisting ourselves up onto the angled top of the wall.

Leading the flotilla was a Canadian Navy Ship, followed by the fire boat with its amazing water pumping capacity. The majestic beauty of the ships sailing by was a sight to behold. There were “ohs” and “aws” from the assembled masses as each new ship came into view.  The best response from the crowd was reserved for the one below that included music loud enough to hear high up on the famous Quebec City bluff that Wolfe’s troops had scaled 258 years before in their attack on Montcalm.  As you can see, many of the crew were aloft standing on sail yards, ready to set the square sails.  I wonder how they decide who has to go all the way to the top one.  Or maybe it’s a privilege.

We watched for over an hour as single, double, triple and even 4 masted ships passed us. It’s one thing to see them tied up in harbour, and even to tour onboard as we did for 6-8 of them. It’s something else to see them under sail and in flotilla. I forgot at times to take pictures, enraptured by the sight of it all. You can see how huge these ships are in relation to the sailboats and yachts following along.  At one point a freight ship came steaming around the corner, irritatingly getting in the view.

As you can see from the puffs of smoke in some of the pictures below, some of the war ships were also demonstrating their arsenal.  In this case, thankfully, it was a salut to the host city and the adoring crowds.

Sad that it was over, we headed back to our lovely B&B, Hotel Chateau de Pierre, for another fabulous breakfast.  We checked out and hit the road back to Ottawa.  However, today instead of taking Highway 20/30/417 we stayed on the north side of the St Lawrence and followed the river for much of the way on Highway 138.  We were not alone.  The road was quite busy with lots of motorcyclists enjoying the great weather and there were several fresh fruit and veggie stands as well as many yard sales along the way. We traversed through many small, picturesque towns, most with an amazing church. We just had to stop at one in particular because it was absolutely huge especially in the context of the small town of Sainte-Anne de La Pérade, in which is was located. The church was bustling with activity getting prepared for a reenactment of the visit to the church of Charles de Gaulle. Who knew.

With just a quick stop at one of the ubiquitous Casse-Croutes for a great grilled hotdog, we arrived home just as it was starting to get dark, tired but so happy with another successful adventure.

Next up, northern Ontario, and the Big Smoke!

Here’s one more picture for the road…………taken into the rising morning sun.

Malta, NY

I hadn’t really looked at my chosen route for today too carefully other than to be sure I knew which Interstates to take to make the best time. Turns out that I started in Virginia, ended in Upstate New York and in between I went through West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey! Who knew. It was an uneventful trip aside from watching all the “Welcome to ….” signs go by.

I have pulled out some pictures from the whole trip to add to this post since it’s really a recap of the trip itself.

As you can tell, the circle on the map is almost complete. This is it. This is the last night on the road. Tomorrow at this time after 298 days on the road (with 3 weeks break in September for a trip to the Balkans), and 58,344 km I’ll be tucked in at Gill and Phil’s house. It’s been a dream come true and I can’t believe it’s over. Up until the last few days I’ve been absorbed by my last few days in Charleston, getting the trailer ready to be dropped off at the manufacturer for some minor work and preparing for my re-entry into the real world. But the past couple of days with my route planned I’ve been a bit on auto-pilot with lots of windshield time for thinking.

I am a firm believer in life-long learning and so I have thought about all the things that I have learned on this amazing voyage. Of course there have been many practical things, such as to make sure the hitch is on properly before going over the Confederation Bridge, and don’t pull the black water tank out without flushing the toilet first. I’ve learned so much about history, culture, geography and the people of the places I’ve travelled. I’ve learned (or had it reinforced) that travel is so broadening. Not only for me, which is obvious, but in talking to people along the way, I found those who have travelled are generally more outward looking and open to new ideas. But most of all, I’ve learned a lot about myself.

I learned to live in the moment. That’s always been an issue for me. Spending time thinking about the past or the future instead of focusing on the present. At the beginning it was a self-preservation tactic, since hooking up and driving the trailer in traffic took my total focus. And as time went on, I was busy planning, seeing, learning, doing, or writing about my travels and that’s what consumed my waking hours. So now it’s become a habit and I hope one I can keep.

When I thought about doing this trip, one of the things that worried me was the possibility of loneliness, being on the road for such a long time without a travel buddy. So I knew that I’d have to put myself out there and go beyond my comfort zone. And I learned I can do that, and to a degree I enjoyed it. I only experienced one real bad time of loneliness, and that was over the US Thanksgiving weekend. I guess because the campground in San Diego was full of families who had gotten together for the weekend. But it quickly passed and Gill joining me for a week over New Years really helped. BTW, I discovered that I am more willing to do silly stuff when no one I know is watching. i.e. picture in the Texas welcoming centre, with the astronaut at the Space Centre, etc.

I learned that it’s important to me that I continue to make a difference in this world. From learning about so many amazing people in a historic or cultural context, or just in talking to people along the way, I realize there are so many people with such important projects or passions in their lives. I know that’s been missing from my life for a few years and I need to find something about which I can be passionate. BUT, I also know that I have to have balance in my life and family and friends have to come first.

People have asked me what my favourite spot was on my trip. I started to write a list of some of my favourites and I ended up just listing the places I’d been because I liked them all for one reason or another. Many of the places I went I had visited at least for a short time or in part before. The south, however, was totally new to me and I absolutely loved it. The people are so warm, generous, open and the hospitality truly is amazing. It was where I was most moved by the history of the past. Walking over the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma I was moved to tears. How do you respect what happened in the past without forgetting it, and move forward without assigning or feeling the guilt of the past? I thought about that a lot. And no, I don’t have the answer. Everywhere I went I stayed mainly on the beaten paths for safety sake, but from what I saw, the poor in the south are more poor than anywhere else. But joy was expressed so easily and so loudly. It was an interesting dichotomy.

Some of the experiences I had will truly be remembered forever. I’ve written about most of them: in NOLA when the bead thrower called me out and said my smile made what he’d paid to be there worthwhile; the first airboat trip on Lake Panasoffkee; walking over the Pettus Bridge; being on the Mardi Gras float at Universal throwing beads with MJ and Tina; and being invited by one of my neighbours in Georgia to join them for a fish feast dinner after the men came back from fishing with a huge catch. For the most part, the thing that stands out are the great conversations that I’ve had with all sorts of people everywhere I went.

It was so much fun to hear from those of you who sent me suggestions for things to do, and places to go and to hear you recount the times you visited the places I went. I would especially like to thank my friend Dane, who was born in the south and who travelled vicariously through me for much of the trip. His insights and knowledge of the places and people were invaluable. I enjoyed, so much, having him along for the ride.

Many of you have said how brave I am to have done this trip. Some of you have said you’d love to do it but wouldn’t have the guts. Well, it would not have been possible for me to do it without the support and love of my family and friends. As I said to them:

“Knowing that they all worried about me allowed me not to worry myself.

Knowing that they were all supportive of me doing this made me more sure I could. Even during those times when doubt crept into the recesses of my consciousness. (or expressed itself as melt downs, both private and public)

Knowing that they were waiting to hear from me kept me focused and on track and kept me going on those days when I’d much rather just crawl under a rock.”

Thank you to all of you for being along for the trip through reading my blog. I really did feel like you were all with me. I hope you enjoyed it.

I’m sorry it’s over, but excited to find that thing to be passionate about again.

Harrisonburg, VA
It’s been an emotional day. Sadly, I packed up camp for the last time on this epic journey this morning. While I’ve got a few more days on the road to get back to Ottawa, I have had the trailer winterized and so I’ll stay in motels from here on.

I got on the road early and put in a day twice as long as usual. It was a beautiful sunny and warm day, and a lovely drive. I traversed several Interstates, from 826 to 26, to 77, to 81 and through South Carolina, through North Carolina and through a good chunk of Virginia.

Virginia is really lovely from what I’ve seen from the Interstate. Rolling hills, pretty bucolic vignettes everywhere you look and a point of historic interest at every exit. I crossed over the Blue Ridge Parkway several times as it follows along Interstate 81. It’s definitely on my bucket list to explore. I expect to spend more time in this area before long.

It was especially nice along the way to watch spring happening practically before my eyes. In South Carolina, spring is in full swing with the azaleas already finished and the trees in full leaf. In North Carolina the trees are starting to get foliage and in Virginia the trees aren’t greening up yet, but the grass is and the pink blossoms on wild trees along the countryside were beautiful.

For the first time since I returned from Europe at the end of September (and for only the second time since I started the NANFA Tour) I’m tucked into a motel tonight. I have to say that I am enjoying the “luxury”, and we’re talking the Holiday Inn Express. It’s all relative. I just grabbed my backpack, registered and walked into my room and there it was, all set up. No un-hitching the trailer, putting down the stabilization legs, plugging in the electric cord, hooking up the water and sewer. The shower is only 10 steps away, I don’t have to wear flip flops in to the shower and 10 other people haven’t already used it today. And I don’t have to put my jacket and shoes on to go to the toilet. And WIFI – it’s lightening fast.

So yes, those are some of the downsides of trailering for 10 and a half months. But my view from my motel is of a parking lot, not a cute little lake or under the live oak trees. I couldn’t smell cooking bacon while I ate my toast and peanut butter at my picnic table this morning because I ate it in the car on route. I don’t know if I can sleep indoors tonight after sleeping in the fresh air for so many months. I haven’t seen any of my neighbours never mind had great conversations with them. I certainly haven’t been invited to enjoy fresh fish with three couples from western Georgia. I saw the signs for some interesting things today, but didn’t go see any of them. And I don’t have far to go to the restroom, but I won’t be able to look up at the stars in the dark sky on the way there.

So, yes, the NANFA Tour is winding down. Two or three more days on the road, but just getting from point A to point B rather than experiencing it. I’ll have some final comments when I have the time and patience to sit down and write it.

P.S. Oh and I have a TV in my room! And watching CNN talking about Trump’s lack of a ground game despite his strong air game and chuckling. His team not knowing the system, etc.

Charleston, SC
Today I visited Magnolia Plantation and Gardens, the oldest plantation on the Ashley River, one of oldest tourist sites in the Carolinas, and one of the top 25 most visited historic houses in America according to their brochures.

It was a late start for me, so I didn’t get to the plantation until just after noon. I was not the only one that thought this would be a good thing to do today. The ticket sales were painfully slow. There are several efficiencies at the entrance to the property that could be made to make it more pleasurable for everyone. Once inside I had a great day.

There are several activity choices at Magnolia. There are nearly 500 acres of gardens, woods areas, ponds and lakes to self explore and that comes free with your admission. In addition to that you can chose to pay extra to do any of the following: tour the house with a guide, take the nature train, take the nature boat, take a “Slavery to Freedom” walk, and visit the Audubon Swamp Garden. I chose the house tour and the nature train.

One of the unique things about this plantation is that it has stayed in the Drayton family and has not been turned over to a foundation like all the others I’ve visited. It is still owned by the 15th generation of the family. The house I toured was the third house built on the property. The first, built by Thomas and his wife Ann, newly landed from Barbados, was completed in 1680. It stood for 130 years but was struck by lightning in 1811 and the wooden interior burned and the brick skeleton fell inward. The second was burned to the ground in 1865, likely by Union troops.


This third house was started in 1874 with an addition made in 1891. It was planned to be much more grand, but because of the civil war the fortunes of this branch of the Draytons were diminished. Like other plantation owners in this area they had made their fortunes growing rice in fields worked by slaves, which was no longer profitable after they were freed.

The time came when some of the amassed acreage had to be sold off to save the gardens. They had been developed in the early 1800’s, primarily by John Grimke-Drayton and were well known before the Civil War for their azaleas and live oaks. In order to provide income for the estate, they opened the gardens up to the public for the first time in 1870 for an admission charge of $37.50 in today’s money. They had many well known visitors during the 1900’s including George Gershwin, Henry Ford, Eleanor Roosevelt, Orson Welles and John James Audubon. The last owners to live in the house were John and Fernanda and after John’s death, Fernanda made the decision to open up the house to tours and became it’s first tour guide in 1975.

The house tour was my first activity and it is interesting to see how humble it is compared to so many of the other plantations I’ve visited because of their diminished wealth. It was after all the “country cottage” because they lived most of the year in their Charleston home. Most of the furniture is from the house or from other properties the Drayton’s owned. Sorry, no pics allowed inside.

Immediately following the house tour I was scheduled on the nature tram tour. It took us through much of the nearly 500 acres, many wooded areas, and past ponds and lakes. We spotted several alligators, one about 8 feet, and the others smaller and numerous turtles and various birds and geese. Then I walked through the garden itself. Unfortunately most of the azaleas have passed their prime but it was lovely to walk along the pathways zigzagging through the garden. There are statues, and bridges and ponds and the river to discover around various bends in the pathways. And I even encountered a racoon coming my way as I rounded one corner. He immediately turned and hightailed it in the opposite direction before I could get my camera up and focused so the only picture I got is pretty dark and blurry.

Near the end of my garden walk, I came across a wedding dress hanging from a tree limb in the pathway. Not far away was a photographer taking its picture. Seems there was a wedding on the property this afternoon. Sure enough on my way out I came across chairs set up on a lawn for the ceremony and by the time I passed by the house the caterers were in full flight getting set up on the outdoor veranda.

It was a lovely afternoon.

Charleston, SC

Yesterday I had an absolutely thrilling day. Not. It had rained over night and the forecast was for rain so I designated it to be a clean and organize day. I need to get things organized because when I leave here I’ll be heading straight to drop off my trailer in St Jerome and then on to Ottawa. It turned out to be a really nice day which was great for getting things organized and cleaned but there are so many other interesting things I could have been doing!

With as much done as I could before I actually pack up, I was back to touring today. I started with a bus tour focused on the Gullah language and culture with a Gullah guide, not surprisingly called Gullah Tours. It was incredibly interesting and the guide was hilarious. Not only that, but he was a great entrepreneur. The tour costs $18 which is very reasonable and he said you don’t pay until the end and if you’re not happy with the tour, you don’t have to pay. I watched and almost everyone gave him $25 netting him a $7 tip. And he sells his book on the bus and points out all the locations throughout the city that sell his book.

I can’t for the life of me remember any of the Gullah that he spoke or told us. It originated in West Africa and is similar to Creole. It’s spoken very quickly and they use a lot of euphemisms. For instance, to describe someone that is a thief they would say “she has busy hands” and instead of telling someone to be quiet they say, “Quit cracking your teeth”. They have no “th” sounds in their language so when they are saying English words “dey” end up dropping “dem”. They seem to be very superstitious. They believe blue wards off evil spirits so often they will paint the roof of their porch or door frames blue, or they wear something blue. (origin of the saying, “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue).

One of the characteristic architectural elements of Charleston homes is the ironwork, both forged and cast and one man’s name keeps coming up associated with the best of the 20th century work. More than 500 of the forged iron gates, fences, balconies and window grills in Charleston were done by a blacksmith by the name of Philip Simmons. One of his gates is on permanent display in one of the Smithsonian Museums in Washington and he has received many tributes both local and nationally for his work.

He died in 2009 and his home and workshop were turned over to a foundation to be turned into a museum. We visited it with our Gullah guide and were able to watch one of the blacksmiths that he mentored, his nephew, work on some plant hangers he was making.

After the tour, I finally got in to see the movie about Charleston a the visitor’s centre that Marsha had suggested I see, and I’m glad she did because it’s kind of tucked away in a corner and I would have missed it if I hadn’t been looking. It did a good job of putting things in context as these films always do, and the pride Charlestonians (?) feel about their city shone through.

Then I walked and I walked and I walked, until I could walk no more. I wandered down King Street, the main shopping area, where you’ll find locally owned shops along with the usual higher end national retailers all housed in magnificent historic buildings. Then over to East Bay Street and along the east side of the peninsula, through Waterfront Park, and then zig zagged back north. I stopped for an iced tea because I needed to rest my poor feet and legs and then headed back to the Visitors Centre to head for home. I took some pictures, but everywhere you look is another beautiful garden or cute little alleyway, or neat architectural detail. One of the guides said that even after walking down these streets all their life they still notice new little things all the time, there’s just so much to take in. I get that.

Charleston is another of the places that I can’t remove from my bucket list because I’ll want to come back and I haven’t even left yet.