A couple of nights ago we were talking about how nice it will be to sleep in a bed again.  I’m dreaming of a bed in a room that I don’t have to share with two farting boys and a swarm of bood thirsty mosquitoes.  The boys are just dreaming of their own beds in their own rooms where no one can roll into you or on you during the night and where a toddler on one side of your tent is screaming because she doesn’t want to go to bed and the baby in the tent beside you isn’t waking up unhappy before 6 a.m.  Camping is great but after a week of less than stellar sleep we’re all starting to get a little bleary eyed.

So yesterday we started the voyage home.  I feel much braver now having looked for and found places in several different provinces so I decided we’d take a scenic route home.  We followed the east coast of New Brunseick on what is called the Acadian Coastal Drive.  It was a long, long trip to Miramichi is all I can really say about this route.  You drive by a lot of white churches with black trim, encounter a lot of law abiding drivers, see a few people enjoying the coast line at low tide and have a chance to get your picture taken with the world’s largest lobster.  We had to stop for that!

It’s slim pickings in terms of camp grounds in Miramichi.  We ended up on a transformed farm.  We had to laugh when the owner (who looks exactly like a farmer) showed us to our camping spot on his beat up bicycle.  ( We followed very slowly in the van.)  We were able to pick from a number of spots in a big field.  The place at least had a small pool and working toilets and showers.  We probably had our best camp fire yet there and the boys made a friend quickly despite the fact that this particular kid only spoke French.  He had a golf club and ball and that was enough for D and P to want to befriend him.  That big open field was perfect for whacking around that golf ball.

Today we headed across New Brunswick into Quebec.  Our plan was to take the 108 West.  No one calls it that in Miramichi though.  They call it Plaster Rock Highway.  I had to ask three times to find this particular route and each time I was asked if I REALLY wanted to take this road.  I was warned that it was rough.  One woman warned me that I’d probably lose a few organs traversing it.  I figured the highway couldn’t be lined with rusted hulks with skeletons in them of stupid tourists who had possibly dared to go this way.  Obviously these people had tried it and made it out alive.  We went for it and it turned out to be a good decision.  We made good time.  There’s absolutely nothing out on Plaster Rock Highway but rough winding road.  It’s even a dead zone in terms of cell phones.  It was kind of fun to do the unexpected and make it out the other side to tell about it.  The road ends at a place called Plaster Rock which has a wood carving of the world’s largest fiddleheads.  I’m sure not many people have a picture of their kids in front of the world’s largest statue of fiddleheads but we do!

We’re now camping in Quebec.  The T.V. show “Biggest Loser” is blaring in the background in French.  I’m finding it hard to blog because I can actually understand what is being said on the show.  My brain is kind of working in two languages even after taking the long way to Miramichi one day and braving Plaster Rock Highway the next.  Yeah, I’m amazing!

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