A rigmarole-ridden day, topped off with Rick and Morty & a fish and chip supper in a private games and sauna room.
Kristian left his wallet with our passports in the Dancing Moose Diner, and didn’t realise until 10 miles down the road. A full kit inspection confirmed it was left behind and not just put in the wrong place, so we called the diner from an art gallery near where we’d stopped. (Note: this post is not begrudging him! It’s an easy mistake that could happen to anyone) The diner was closed: no answer.
Kristian considered cycling back, a 2 hour round trip; Alex and I considered logistics for where we should wait (ideally somewhere with wifi so we could keep in touch, and beer so we could keep entertained). While planning, Penny the art gallery proprietor came out and said she’d called one of the diner’s neighbours and asked them to check for the wallet. “If they find it, they’ll drive it down”.
A few minutes later they’d found it, and drove it down.
We showered them with gratitude and, reunited with our passports, allowed ourselves to consider the more enormous rigmarole we’d have had to navigate if our passports were lost. Presumably involving going to the embassy in Ottawa at huge expense, Kristian missing his flight and having to book another one at huge expense, me having to fly home from Ottawa at huge expense, and George and Chris Cave having to relocate their holidays from Newfoundland to Ottawa at huge expense.
The ringing an finding and driving also reminded us for the millionth time of the kindness of Canadians and humans in general.
Penny then enlightened us with information on the nearby ferry (“running”), campsites (“several”) and groceries (“none”) while we browsed her excellent art gallery.
Our ride onward from Penny’s was buoyed by success and back-dropped by authentic maritime landscapes (and authentic maritime drizzle). The tiny two minute ferry crossing dropped us next to a fish and chip shack decorated with all sorts of colourful nautical memorabilia, which promised “the best fish and chips in the world”.An incredibly bold claim, especially aimed at three British lads.
Another brief rigmarole followed to get cash from a nearby campsite (“you can pay by phone or email too, if you have a Canadian bank card..!”). The owner had closed office for the day and retreated to her RV, so we knocked and checked in late, peppering her with supplementary questions in the process (“can we get cash back? can we use the sauna? can we use the games room after hours if we’re super careful?”).
Thankfully she was another kind and wonderful lady who answered yes to all the questions, allowing us warm dry and well lit sanctuary to enjoy our food and finally hide from the day (and week’s) unrelenting drizzle.
The simple things (takeaway, telly, warm sauna-bench wood against your buttocks) feel so much more comfortable, delicious and appreciated after you and all your possessions have been aggressively dampened for a whole day.