When lobsters and lighthouses mingle
As we returned to the campground last evening, a little disappointed that the Perseid shower was hiding behind a cloudy veil, the fact that this area has taken on an international flavour was clear. Russian in the shower house.
Met more cousins before lunchtime, and then the road led east to the lighthouse. Not “a”; “the”. Often moved, never trumped. The gift shop bewilders me, though. So many unneeded pieces of tourist junk, based on the image of a lobster, or a lighthouse, or a seashell. Proof that international trade is healthy, because China has the corner on this niche market.
Even the tourist must eat, and that can of Irish stew with a bed of instant rice is still acting as ballast in the back of the car. Over at Basin Head, the snack bar does a decent job on fried clams and fried scallops and, well, fried. We watched “the” boat headed off to the Madeleines, wishing we could magically transport to the upper deck. There’s a dress code at beachside concessions, involving swimsuits that never go in the water, tats that will seem old long before the bearer and an odour involving coconut oil and whatever the active ingredient of sunscreen might be.
We spent some time over at the Souris Marina. As usual, the Coast Guard have the best ride in the harbour. Some exotic looking craft in the area, looking decidedly homebrew. I wonder if I could build something big enough to amuse others. How hard can it be? Wood floats, right?
