Jason Brown is a travel writer who resides in Los Angeles. He has a webpage where you can find some of his short fiction and travel adventures: http://www.geocities.com/jasonconga
Howdy all,
I've just arrived in Toronto after 18 days on the road. The facts are these:
I drove 3,290 miles, averaging (god bless my car) 36 miles a gallon.
I left Saturday, July 8th early in the morning and headed to the Pocono Mountains to see Jennifer and for work. I had my first exposure to unnecessary toll roads called the New York Thruway...Question - why do they charge tolls once the road is finished? Who knows?...Anyway, spent five days with Jennifer and her family in Stroudsburg, a town I had heard much about and now can report on first hand.
The area is lined with backroads weaving and darting every which way and trees and creeks prevail. I had the opportunity to write an article for the Toronto Star on this area and hopefully it will be in Next Sunday's travel section. During my stay in Pennsylvania, we went to see the Black Crowes and Jimmy Page on Jones Beach on Long Island, a much anticipated explosion of rock. We had a blast, met some cool folks in the parking lot and then drove the two and a half hours through the lusciously "futile" state of New Jersey (no offense to natives).
I left on a Thursday morning for Medford, Massachusetts to visit a friend and write an article on Gloucester, MA, the town where the Perfect Storm was filmed (that article should be appearing this Sunday). The first night was quite mellow, going for a jog at the local university and watching a TV that continually kept going from widescreen to the extreme back to regular TV looking stuff. (Shave and Nate, you know what we do to TV's that start going unnecessarily widescreen).
The next day, however, was full. Maureen and I went to Gloucester, a quaint little fishing village and I interviewed some people, took some pictures and then we sat and had some beers in the Crow's Nest trying to get a feel for the locals. Needless to say I think I did. That night was a reunion of sorts because for the first time in three years I saw two roommates from Flagstaff, AZ, Tyler and Mardi.
We had planned on meeting at a bar near Faneiul Hall and when Maureen and I got there, it was packed to the gills. When we later met up luckily, I told Tyler that next time we should meet up at Times Square. We went to a place called the Purple Dragon and listened to an 80's cover band blast out tunes from the bowels of a forgotten decade. There was tequila and beers and some other drinks and an easy twenty bucks I made when I pinched a Navy girl's ass. Ok, I'll give background.
For someone not living on an eastern seaboard, these damn Tall Ships had been following me to Boston and to two more cities before I finally went inland and got away from them. They brought to port many seamen from many nations and they were there at the bar we were at. A drunk friend of Tyler's who had won money in poker from him and other people at the bar told me he'd give me twenty bucks to pinch her ass. Mind you, she's surrounded by about 5-6 Navy dudes in white and if you've ever met me, menacing stature is not the adjective you'd give to me so I tossed off the idea for awhile.
After the the already mentioned shots, I had an idea. I went up to the girl and told her the plan. I said she could split the twenty bucks with me if I could pinch her butt. She was totally up for it and Tyler and two other guys were very happy to see money come out of his wallet and into my hands whereby I gave it to her and told her to buy me two beers and she could have the rest. The night ended jaggedly, people filing into the streets at last call, people everywhere, walking in the streets, getting into cabs that suddenly were vanishing. Maureen and I walked 4 or five blocks before finding a cab and catching a ride, having a late night talk over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at about 3:30 in the morning.
I left the next day for Portland, Maine. Great town and when I got there, I found I could stay with my aunt's friend who lives in the STICKS. It was great, a house in the woods, very relaxing, goats, dogs, puppies, cats, everything a vacation needs. We went to a bean supper that night at the church. Sitting at long tables, people who were parishoners of the church fed us beans, salad, spaghetti, more beans, cole slaw, potato salad and then an array of homeade desserts all for five bucks. It was awesome. We ate at the Lobster Shack the next day but not before seeing a home someone had made from a Church. It was a great looking loft, with artist's paintings adorning the walls.
On Tuesday morning I left at 7:30am for Fundy National Park at the southern edge of New Brunswick. The hostel was in the woods, on the cliff of the bay with the world's largest tides. Had a great dinner with a guy from Idaho who was a biochemist who had quit his job and was headed for Newfoundland. I washed windows for 2 hours there for a free bed, it was barely worth it but definitely worth it.
I had planned on staying in Wentworth, Nova Scotia the next day because I had been told that my chances of working for a free bed were very good. I got there and found the place deserted during open business hours. I called, walked around and eventually headed back on the dirt road that led me to Halifax. A Black Crowes friend Megan somehow convinced her mom to let me stay for a night or two on a very comfortable couch in a house in the suburb of Lower Sackville (thanks Megan).
We saw the Tall Ships (again) and then the next day I hung out on the Springs Garden's fence and talked to Mark the Sandstone Man. That was actually a blast and then we were off to Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia's most popular tourist site. It is a lighthouse on these very old rocks that melt with the Atlantic, an ocean which appears very violent at that coast. We sat and watched the water spray against the rocks and you can picture how cold it was and how easy it would be to get sucked into the tides.
It was Friday now and I made a six hour drive to Campbellton, New Brunswick where I met a couple of crazy French people, Stefane and Karine. We ended up making dinner and bar hopping a town with three bars. I finally walked back to the hostel at 1am and I heard Stefane come in at 7:30. He spoke Spanish well and so sometimes I told him something in Spanish so he could relay it to Karine. I felt like it was right out of a Hemingway book.
I took a couple of Canadians into my car for a ride around what turned out to be the most spectacular drive I have ever been on, the Gaspe Peninsula, or the Gaspesie as the Quebecuers call it. What a sight! Like PCH in California, it winded slowly and vertically around bays that led to the Peninsula. Every 8km or so around a corner the top of a church spire could be seen and then a small village and then greenery until the next spire was seen.
I dropped them (Joe from BC and Christine from Montreal) at Cap-ou-Zo (spelling), right at the tip of the peninsula. I drove two more hours to Mont Saint Pierre and stayed at a hostel that looked more like a Mexican discoteque, and no, it wasn't like Rockodiles. The rooms were pure white with pink painted floors and I ate dinner with an Aussie who was quite amusing. We somehow convinced the lady at the restaurant to let us order off the lunch menu even though she didn't speak English and we didn't speak French.
I left in the rain two mornings ago and finished up the peninsula and made it to Riviere du Loup, Quebec a little after lunch. It is a crossroads for people headed to the Maritimes, Gaspesie, or west to Quebec, Montreal and such. The hostel was fantastic and quaint and I finally got someone to cut my hair and it looks great. I actually used mousse today. They served dinner for 7$CDN and it was a three course meal of tomato soup with rice and veggies, salad and rice and carrots with carmelized onions and chicken with spinach and basil. I didn't even go out that night but earlier in the day I walked with Emily from BC to the waterfall and on this path for a while. It was a great town even though I did nothing and I was sad to go yesterday morning.
I gave Flint a ride to Montreal. It was too a'propos because he is second in command on one of those damn Tall Ships and we had the most interesting talk on the drive down about god, love, women, traveling. I mean, what else is there in life, right? After dropping him off at the hostel, I got in contact with Kelly, a traveler I had met in November in Savannah, Georgia and drove to her place after being lost for awhile.
She has an amazing apartment in a Portuguese section of town, complete with wooden floors, a chair hanging on the wall holding a plant, a balcony and too much to describe. We ate at Nantha's, the best Indian food I've ever had and saw Nantha again. This time he had pink hair and blue nails. That guy is alive, I don't know what else to say about him. In the morning, it was hot and stuffy in my room and I was awake at 7am where I got up, went for a jog on Mont Royale and then had a smoothie drink Kelly made before finding the highway and making it home to Toronto again.
Well, that's about it and I left stuff out because it's already too damn long but I hope it was enjoyable.
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