travel – OldPlaidCamper

Station to (service) station

We don’t travel by train all that often, and when we do, we think “why haven’t we done this for a while? It’s such fun!”

We went from Quebec City down to Montreal a couple of weeks ago (perhaps I’ll write about why we went in a separate post) and opted to take the train. Why the train? Why not! Also, lovely though Quebec as a province is, have you ever driven one of the two highways north or south of the river, Quebec to Montreal? Not ugly or dreary, but, to my mind, one of the most boring stretches of road to drive. There’s a train for that journey? Sold!

Not hugely interesting (most boring photo ever? Just wait…)

I don’t say that about the MTL- QC road being a challenge to me lightly – after all, I’ve driven the M5. If you’re ever on the M5 and find yourself thinking “time for a rest stop?” please don’t stop at Taunton Deane service station. There are never, ever, any good reasons, and that includes running out of petrol or needing a bathroom. What about Bridgwater services as an alternative to TD on the M5, OPC? Fair question, and sure, at least Bridgwater service station isn’t Taunton Deane. I guess it’s up to you – Bridgwater or Taunton Deane? Hemlock or arsenic? You decide! M5 services… shudder… (with a tip of the hat and a very close second place awarded to a certain pre-glasnost Soviet style service station found on the M6. If you know where, then you know where and you know to do all you can to avoid stopping. The M6 one is pretty grim, but the patrons at least appear to be alive, unlike the pod people encountered near Taunton Deane. Another shudder…)

Back to the not-so-bad-now-I-think-about-it road between Quebec City and Montreal. It’s not as though the road is particularly problematic. It’s not completely straight and flat, there are large fields, wooded stretches, glimpses of river, and an occasional spire reaching above the trees and towering over small settlements. We’ve never been unduly delayed due to construction. There are ample gas and coffee stops, and, on a sunny day, some of the outdoor rest areas are delightful, pleasant enough to stop and enjoy a picnic. As we sometimes have. Yet the road itself, to me, well goodness, it’s such a boring drive. (On boring, this tedious piece seems to be rather long on roads and such, rather than trains. For a post titled “Station to (service) station” could we get back to trains and stuff? I’ll try – sorry about that!)

Anyway, it was fun to take the train, knowing I could enjoy feeling drowsy without having to stop for a coffee. In fact, if you’d like a coffee, there was service at your seat! Same for a croissant. Or a selection of (slightly dubious looking but not Taunton Deane levels of dubious looking) sandwiches. Yeah, the train sandwiches did trigger M5 flashbacks, so I passed on those…

The departure station in Quebec City is not too shabby. Station? No, it’s a palace! The Gare du Palais – what a gem! Not all railway stations are created equal… I accept that there are plenty of wonderful, even grand and central(!) railway stations all over the world, but for a small city, the Gare du Palais is grand enough.

When I was a teen, and pretending to grow up, I’d sometimes travel from Reading to London Paddington on the train. It was a reasonably quick journey and always exciting to be headed to the big city. Paddington Station is a mighty terminus! Reading Station (it might be different now) is/was an important junction on the rail network, but could never be described as a palace. Or mighty.

My most memorable British Rail station has to be Stockport. My parents lived near Stockport for a few years, and I’d travel up by train from London Euston. Even if the UK was experiencing a heatwave, even if it was the sunniest day in the northwest of England since records began, I can assure you Stockport railway station would be the coldest place on the planet. Freezing in winter, and even colder in summer. Penguins shiver at the mere mention of Stockport station. I always had a wonderful time in and around Manchester and Stockport, but it often seemed quite cold. And it always seemed colder than anywhere else near Manchester on the platform of Stockport railway station. Manchester Piccadilly? Balmy! Cheadle Hulme? Tropical! Alderley Edge? Break out the sunblock! But Stockport? Brrr! I’d rather summer on north Baffin Island…(I’ve not been to Baffin, and I understand it gets coldish there, but not Stockport station cold…)

Chilly here, but warmer than Stockport railway station

Let’s warm up! To Europe, and let’s take the train! Our favourite railway journey – I may have mentioned this before, but if I can’t remember, then why would you? – was an overnight rail and ferry and then rail again trip from London Victoria to La Rochelle. We’d sent our bicycles on ahead the week before – so very trusting – and after a mostly sleepless Saturday night, and a bleary-eyed Sunday lunchtime to mid-afternoon wait (nothing, and I mean nothing, was open in Poitiers on a sunny June Sunday back in the 80s) we caught the the onward train to La Rochelle. Happy to have arrived, and clutching our little cardboard ticket stubs that proved we’d been foolish enough to post our bikes to who knew where, we set off in search of the luggage office in La Rochelle station. Well, to our great surprise and relief, there was such an office – and it was open! Our bikes were there, intact and ready for a week of cycling and camping adventures. (I’ve definitely written about the cycling and camping before, so to your great relief, I won’t go on about that again!)

“You know, if neither of you want to drive? I’ve seen PC at the wheel, so how hard can it be?”

Well, although this post appears to have been about travel, we seem to have gone nowhere in particular! Before we completely run out of road or go off the rails, here’s one more thing to share. I’ll leave you with a favourite somewhat railway adjacent track. Track, hehehe… (Oh, enough rattling on, PC – worse than a rickety carriage on old sleepers. Time for you to be shunted into a quiet siding. Off you go!)

Almost forgot the music: I travel – Simple Minds. It reminds me of all the times in the 1980s and into the early 90s when I could have but never did travel a lot more by train in Europe, and particularly to the newly opening Eastern European places. This song (and much of the entire album if you’ve the interest and stamina) reflects that period. Cue my moody and not at all pretentious European look to camera – in black and white, on slightly scratchy film stock please…

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Brightening up?

We’ve just returned from a flying visit to SW England (with a bit of NW England thrown in at the end) and what a trip it was! Being happily tired this week, here’s a quick report and a tangent or two. Perhaps I’ll include a few extra bits and pieces in future posts as and when my brain untangles the wonderful whirlwind of highlights and events.

After landing in London we travelled down to Cornwall to celebrate my mother’s birthday – one of the landmark ones. “A landmark birthday? How old?” I hear you ask? Or did you? (I’ve not lived in Britain for almost two decades, and even when I did could never be bothered to understand the stifling intricacies and eccentricities of how one “should” behave. I’m not too sure, in the post Jane Austen era, if it’s yet entirely acceptable to reveal the age of a lady, particularly the age of a lady of a certain age. I’ll simply say it is a number between 79 and 81 and leave it at that…)

By the way, some of the above will certainly influence the title of my new, and, dare I say, difficult second novel. “Portrait of a Particular Lady of a Certain Age and Certain Sensibilities in a Particular Age, An Age of Intricacy and Eccentricity”.

Catchy, hey? A comedy of manners with no funny bits. My hope is for it to be published soon after my first (also difficult) novel is completed. This will be a more modern tale, based on almost real events, and is definitely not a comedy. It attempts to capture Britain today. The title? “Black Coffee Please. Black Coffee? Of Course Sir. Milk and Sugar With That?”

Eventually I’ll write a sequel to Black Coffee Please called “Please-Thanks, Thanking You, Please-Thanks, Yes Thank You, Yes Please-Thanks and Thank You. Milk and Sugar? No thanks!” Bestsellers all, if only they existed. Order and pay for a black coffee in England and count the please-thanks. Honestly, you could write a saga poem…

Where was I? Why, in dear old Blighty! Mother had a splendid time, and it was great to catch up with family and friends, enjoy a meal or two and a drink or three in comfortable surroundings. It might have been the drink or three that had us heading outdoors every now and then to take in the bracing sea air and help a head that needed clearing.

The “brightening up” title this week is from what some British people might say as they decide to go for a walk. This makes sense if you know that often in Britain it’s just stopped raining, about to start raining or is actually raining.

I exaggerate, but not by much. “I think it’s brightening up so shall we head out?” “Nah; it’s raining. Another pint?”

A Porthleven Pale you say? Oh go on then!

Clearly my brain is travel-befuddled, so let’s leave it here for this week! Please-Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Sunny small town stuff

Shall we hang out in a friendly small town on the panhandle of WV? Well, ok, particularly as it is somewhere we’ve visited many times over the years. Berkeley Springs is a great place to while away a few hours, and we did exactly that for a sunny day or two earlier this month.

It has a microbrewery or two (nope, not this time, would you believe?!) great coffee shops, an antique mall, and a number of little stores selling arty crafty stuff. If you like cinnamon scented candles, handmade birthday cards, and knitted/quilted/beaded/stitched stuff, then you’re well catered for. Next visit, and if you’re there, I’ll meet you in the microbrewery (‘cos by then they’ll have very sensibly adjusted their afternoon opening hours so I can skip out on the knitted/antique stuff…)

We’re not really leisure shoppers, but we browsed and had a couple of great conversations with storekeepers who couldn’t get enough of those cute accents. “You’re from Australia, yes? No? Texas, then?” Close enough. We usually agree on Canada via Europe. Folks we chat to south of the border always love Canada, which is reassuring and neighbourly. I mean neighborly.

The guy selling Native American beadwork and blankets was a road warrior with hundreds of thousands of truck miles under his belt. He knew of and had driven through most north of the border places we mentioned, east to west and also north, right up onto the ice roads in deep winter. He was now enjoying his warmer retirement years in his often sunny small WV town. I’d love to share his stories about the “cat” that kept him company on many of his trucking adventures. He described what sounded like a small mountain lion, one that scared many a border guard into waving him through rather than get within close up claw distance to inspect any paperwork… (Next time I’m down that way, I’ll visit with him, see if he wants to elaborate and maybe get his permission to tell a tale or two. I suspect colourful isn’t even close…)

The park in the centre of town has to be one of the smallest state parks ever, and is a delightful spot to sit in the sun and drink coffee. In season, there’s a wonderful outdoor pool – Junior PlaidCamper spent many happy childhood hours splashing about on hot days. In and around the park there’s some (civil war) history to the place if that’s more your thing. For something less bloody, how about George Washington’s bathtub? Yup, really:

I can recommend staying at The Country Inn, a friendly hotel complete with dining room and tavern. We had a spacious room overlooking the park, and if an inch of wall was unpapered (a bright flowery design), I didn’t find it.

We scoped out the dining room and tavern to decide where we’d prefer to eat that night – reservations had been strongly recommended by the check in staff. The helpful person taking dinner reservations looked me up and down and suggested the tavern rather than the dining room as we’d be a better fit for the lively crowd found in there. That’s us, always found hanging with the lively crowd.

Good beer – a lively pint for a lively me

We returned at 7pm and it was busy enough already, most of the tables filled with revellers at least twenty five years our senior. Many seemed to be enjoying the local draft dark beer, a stout called The Miner’s Daughter if I remember correctly. After a couple of pints I was tempted to sneak away from the youth set for a moment and peek in at the dining room, but thought better of it – wouldn’t have wanted to startle (awaken) the octogenarians (nonagenarians?) in there.

My brother joined us for dinner, looking relieved we were hanging out in the hipster bar – he might have mentioned it being the hip replacement bar, but relented when he heard about the dining room – and we had a great meal. So great we had to slump, almost comatose, in the nearby and very elegant reception room to allow for recovery before tackling the stairs to bed.

Anyway, I think we’ve discovered why I’ve never been paid or sponsored to write trip reviews… Let’s leave my dreadful ageism aside, and finish by saying if you ever find yourself near Berkeley Springs, WV, you’ll have a fine old (stop it, PC) time.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Bienvenue à Quebec!

We kept heading east, sad to see Ontario fall behind in the rear view mirror (already planning for a return trip – that beautiful backcountry) but what’s this ahead? Quebec? Why, yes, yes it is! Bienvenue à Quebec! For now we’re taking some time to slow down after quite a long road trip, for what we hope will be an extended stay. (We will continue east at some point in the future, part of our wooly notion that we should, as fairly new young Canadians, explore as much as we can…)

Road trips are great – I enjoy the planning almost as much as the actual trip – but stopping awhile is also good. Planning spontaneity isn’t easy…

A little cabin just outside Quebec City is set to be home for a few weeks. A base to unwind, unpack and head out to enjoy the museums, art galleries, and history – all the great culture of an amazing region. (Perhaps a warning here: what follows may not meet some cultural expectations…)

History (family history – Mrs. PC was a Frampton before PCdom) The owners feigned interest…

Let’s move on from history to some highbrow artwork:

Pou-pou! Snigger…(I do actually like the label artwork, and the beer was great!)

Scout here, readers! Sorry about Old PC’s puerile sense of humour. Personally, I love it here; the old buildings, lovely statues, and grand squares… I’ll try and encourage OPC to grow up and write something more akin to his age and not his shoe size for next time!

Puerile?! Let’s pretend over excitement was the cause, and next time I’ll see if I can measure up to Scout’s higher standards. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

(But c’mon… allez pou-pou! Mrs PC laughed as well…)

“Can we not just enjoy where we are, and appreciate the culture? Someone, please, make him stop!”

Ontario north woods – fully completely

We left the Great Plains behind, (good song here) sad about that, nodded at the 100th meridian, and continued east (most of those nineteenth century settler wagons went the other way – ever the contrarians our wagon is a Tacoma – many horses carrying our camp kitchen loaded with various tinned and dried goods…) aiming for Ontario and the north woods. A land of lakes and trees. And lakes and trees. And lakes and trees.

Lakes and trees? Probably going the right way…(photo by Mrs PC)

For this stage of our trip, the cool and groovy mixtape DJ had spent ages curating an appropriate track list. Or he just downloaded a comprehensive Tragically Hip essentials playlist from Apple. Forget the details, it worked and that’s the main thing.

The wagon. Parked under trees. Near a lake.

The best Ontario driving day for me on this trip – and there were many days as Ontario is quite large – was the stretch east of Thunder Bay to Kapuskasing. Rolling hills covered with trees, lakes every three seconds, and if there wasn’t a lake, then a river or wetland, glimpsed through the trees. The entire day was one beautiful sight after another. The roads were pretty good, better than I’d expected, mostly empty and that made for a great drive. Gosh, that lake was pretty! Through the next bend and surprise, gosh this lake is pretty. And so on. Loved it! All in for this patch of Canada. Fully Completely.

Lakeside stop. Time to rest the horses, and water the livestock.

“Did you just call me livestock?!” Offended face.

If not for the destination further east in mind, we might have been tempted to slow down and hang out for longer in the Ontario north woods. We’re already planning some camping trips for another time – it really was spectacular country!

Near Kapuskasing, not long after sunrise

The road is calling, so we’ll leave it here – or back there, in lovely northern Ontario, with Gord and the boys on the radio. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Prairie songs

Prairies or plains, plains or prairies? It doesn’t really matter – either way, they’re great! Well, that’s what I think…

We were driving through Alberta (Alberta Bound – Paul Brandt) and Saskatchewan last week, enjoying the delights, much missed in recent years, of a road trip.

Our destination for the journey was beyond the Great Plains, and when friends heard about our trip, a few muttered something about how the days can drag traveling through the boring middle western provinces. You know, there’s nothing to see out there.

Drag? Nothing? Huh?! I respectfully disagree! On this trip, once we passed Calgary and the smoke from wildfires north of the trans-Canada corridor – hope that they get big rain and less windy days soon – we enjoyed bright sunshine and big blue skies. A drag? Nothing to see? Um, where to begin? How about the rolling green and gold hills?

Blue, green and gold – the interesting nothing! (Photo by Mrs PC)

Or the sight and sounds of a train rumbling and clanking, parallel to the road?

Then there are hawks above, geese at eye level, and water fowl on the ponds – a drag? The sparkling ponds and newly green early spring trees? Dreary?!

From a parking lot (probably a Tim’s, somewhere in SK) I did clean the windshield soon after

What about seeing horse paddocks and corrals, mighty farm machinery, and the intricate wrought metal ranch gates? I’m always thrilled by the older style grain elevators, and the newer vast – perhaps not beautiful but certainly impressive – modern equivalents. Empty space?!

A splendid sight (taken on a different trip)

Empty? Ok, then how about the joy of an empty open road in front of you, stretching into the distance? For me, this is a road trip prize to savour when it happens, and it often happens on the prairies.

Damn traffic (photo by Mrs. PC. Cuss words all my own)

So, if the prairies are a bore, something dull and simply to be endured as you pass though, then colour me dreary, because I love the plains. It helps when you can fuel up at Tim’s (dark roast, always the dark roast) and Ian Tyson or Paul Brandt are doing their thing on the radio. Oh, ok, not the radio – on the road trip mixtape that some nerd might have thrown together before leaving. Can I say mixtape when it’s an Apple playlist? I think so. (Navajo Rug – Ian Tyson) Great songs for the Great Plains!

Always the dark roast. And maybe some TimBits.

So there we are or there we were. I love the coast, I love the mountains, and yes, I love the prairies!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Traffic again?! (I did clean the windshield earlier, honest!) Photo by Mrs PC.

Tiny home

We needed to be across the island earlier this week and opted to stay overnight in a tiny house. I’ve been fascinated by tiny homes for years, and have spent many a happy hour poring over design details and reading stories of folks living in small dwellings.

Our temporary residence was very well put together, and included a kitchen, bathroom, living room and bedroom squeezed into a tiny footprint. My question has always been “but could a person (or two adults and a dog) really live in such a small space?”

With housing costs rocketing, some demand could be met by smaller and more affordable housing. I think this is to be encouraged, although it seems tough on younger generations that these are the only options when earlier generations had a wider choice. Most start small, but there’s small and then there’s small. Although I might have jumped at the chance! An invisible first world problem perhaps, but it’s there…

Enough of the furrowed brow stuff. This isn’t meant to be a piece about solving the housing crisis, but I will say if more jurisdictions gave permission for tiny houses to be built, they could be one piece of a housing puzzle solution…

I said enough of that! Setting all the debate stuff aside, we really enjoyed staying in a small home, and I also enjoyed fantasizing that yes, I could live like this all the time. (Especially if we had maybe one more room, and perhaps just a touch more storage?!) Oops, tiny house fail for that man…

The entrance into the home site had a large white lilac growing beside and over the gate – what a perfume – so our morning coffee on the small deck was caffeine and lilac flavoured, making for a bright and strong start!

Must leave it here, as I’m pretty sure I’ve got some tiny house plans and costings stashed away… Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Bank business!

Here we go, how about a financial advice column hosted by the mega wealthy OPC? No, that’s not going to happen. I wouldn’t wish the advice, or mega wealth for that matter, on anyone. Something about the root of all evil…

Still, as you’re here, you’re maybe wondering – bank business? Here’s my not so high financial advice: if you’ve got a few dollars and some spare time, invest it in a visit to Crew Collective Cafe in Montreal. Situated in an old bank building, it’s an absolute delight. You won’t make money but the returns will be of a different nature. There’s hardly a ceiling on your investment if you like an ornate ceiling, decent pastries and good coffee. The people watching and caffeine bustle are excellent bonuses.

“Excuse me, teller, I have $5:00 – what’s your advice?” “Can I recommend the double espresso as a wise investment sir?” “Yes you can. Sold!”

Oh, you do want some sound financial advice? Ok, this is all I really know. It isn’t easy, but I was once told if you spend less than you earn, you’ll likely be fine overall. Doubtless we can all think of many caveats to that, but, generally, it works for me – small print bit – I can’t guarantee it will work for you.

The other piece of advice is something I heard an education colleague share with a group of boys who were admiring (and astonished that the colleague owned) a shiny classic vehicle. His response when asked by one youth how he could afford such a vehicle? “It’s called a budget, boys!”

Enough! I can’t help you amass a huge fortune but I can say there’s wealth of a more enjoyable kind to be found in a decent cup of coffee, good company and a great location.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

What’s all this?!

Got back to the warmer west coast last weekend after a brief and chilly (but chilled) eastern Canadian trip, and hoped to see early spring signs – nope, not for now. Hmm…

A very short placeholder this week, before getting back to more complete posts next week, once we’ve defrosted/dug ourselves out!

Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend – I’ll leave you with a taster and unsubtle hint as to where we were for a few days last week:

Bridges, beer, boats and blue skies!

We took a short trip to Victoria last weekend, hoping the forecast for sunshine and blue skies might actually be accurate, and would you believe it, it was!

The days weren’t the warmest, but they were certainly the driest we’ve experienced in a little while, so it was all good. Almost forgotten how great it can be to tilt your head up and feel a touch of warm sunshine (ignoring the chilly breeze!) on your face. Almost smiled…

Dark skies, bright lights and a blue lit bridge!

For various reasons, January this year has been a real drag, grey and gloomy, and not always just the weather. What a relief then to finish the month on a bit of an uptick.

I’ll keep it brief this week, and end by sharing a couple more photographs showing a highlight or two or three from the past weekend. Farewell January and hello February – you’ll give us a sunny day or two, won’t you?!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

	Sherry Felix on Station to (service) stat…
	Miriam on Station to (service) stat…
	plaidcamper on Scout, inside out
	plaidcamper on Scout, inside out
	plaidcamper on Scout, inside out