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October 9 Sunday Bicycle touring from Trois Pistoles Quebec to Matane Quebec We are finding conversing with the natives to be tough. The accent combined with slurs and vocabulary and grammar make understanding almost impossible. And that is when I know what the word means ... it still takes me a while to figure it out. People should learn however, that sticking their face into mine and talking louder isn't going to help. That only works for English. I am not deaf. Yes, I can read your lips but I still don't understand what you are saying. After cycling all day, I need a shower. But I haven't been able to make myself ask for a douche. We are sleeping in a cemetery. But I'm not afraid of the ghosts. I wouldn't be able to understand what they were saying. It is very windy. Our little cycle touring tent sides are pushing and swaying all over. I didn't put the fly on, since it would flap too much. Sharon is sitting up in the tent with her arms outstretched, trying to keep the tent from collapsing. It is incredibly clear with a myriad of stars dotting the night sky. We are 260 kilometres from Gaspé. It should be another couple of days to get there. The wind has mainly been from the west. It was warm and sunny enough today to take my fleece off while I was bike riding. There was lots of traffic out today, admiring the leaves on a Sunday drive. We are cycling alongside the St Lawrence River. It is massive at this point. It looks more like and ocean ... and it smells like one too, especially when the tide is out. We are often cycling about twenty feet away from it. Not many people know English in this part of Quebec. Sharon bought a 2-litre bottle of Pepsi-Max at a store today. I hate the stuff so much I went in to exchange it for regular Pepsi. At a cashier I gave it my best "Bonjour. Exchangé Pepsi-Max pour Pepsi ordinairé?" She replies "Une moment. Je ne parle pas anglais." Hey, wait a minute! That was my French, dearie. She got a guy from the back who understood enough (barely) to make the exchange for me. We rode our fully loaded touring bikes though Rimouski. It is quite large. After cycling all day, we bought supper in Matane. It was almost dark by the time we tried to find a place to camp. A guy out in his yard said "Hello" as we rode past, so we stopped to ask him if we could camp overnight in his yard. His reply was "I don't think so." Thank you very much. There hasn't been too many times that we've ever been refused camping wherever we've cycle toured. But this was definitely one of them. And here I thought all Quebecers loved cyclists. It is very windy. Our little cycle touring tent is shimmying and shaking. This is a wind test. We should have lift off soon. We will probably get snagged on a tombstone. While writing in my bike touring journal I had to stop momentarily to make a quick dash outside the tent. No, not for that. Remember all those stars in the clear night sky a moment ago? Well, I must have angered the weather gods big time by leaving the fly off. A squall just blew in. We put our little cycle touring tent close to a cemetery fence to use the fence as a windbreak and now I can't stake the fly out on that side. Great. I was freezing and shivering in the frigid wind while trying to get the flapping fly put on and drive the stakes in. Of course, this was one of the first times we hadn't bothered covering the bikes and now they are getting soaked. Oh well, it is too windy to keep the plastic covering them anyway. The poles are bending and the little bike touring tent walls are caving in. Sharon is now sitting with her back against one side to keep it from blowing in further. This could be an interesting night with a madly flapping fly, howling wind and jangling zipper pulls. It is midnight. Whooooo!! |
