Muddy Feet

After a nail-biting half hour on a dirt road we weren't sure would connect to the main highway, Joe danced a jig when we arrived at Kelly's Bake Shop in Alma.  The sticky buns had been highly recommended.  They weren't all that.

On the other hand, the "Flowerpot Rocks" at Hopewell Cape were spectacular.   We descended a steep metal staircase to get a closer look.

Low tide exposes the bases of several rock formations topped by vegetation.  Some are 70 feet tall. Thom says "if you've seen one, you've seen 'em all," an opinion I don't share.

 

It's like you're walking on the bottom of the bay in some places.

Depending on the time of day, this area can be 16 feet under water.

Like a dog before me, I paid for my enthusiasm.

The Fundy Coast

After paying admission to drive the Sentier Fundy Trail, we learned that the road wouldn't get us any closer to Hopewell Cape, where we wanted to see the "Flowerpot Rocks" at low tide.  We got as far as Fuller Falls before deciding to turn around.

It's a good thing the visitor's booth attendant insisted we could drive the 16-kilometer trail and still make Hopewell Cape by 5 p.m.

Otherwise, look what we would have missed.

When we got down to the Bay of Fundy, we overheard a native tell some other tourists that they were lucky to be enjoying New Brunswick's first stretch of summer weather.

Easy Peasy

St. Andrews looked even better in the morning after a delicious breakfast at Honeybeans Cafe.  You can't go wrong with the home-made strawberry rhubarb or cinnamon coffee cake.  A super-friendly woman said "easy peasy" when she took my order.

We got an early start for the Fundy Coast.  Negotiating mostly two-lane coastal highways was fun and the driver got to choose the music too!  Nothing like Nada Surf's cover of "Champagne Supernova" to get me going.

Who could resist a colorful pit stop, even if it was a little early for lunch? After telling us the world-famous seafood chowder we'd seen advertised was five kilometers down the road in St. Martins, the man behind the counter offered to cancel our order.  Canadians are like that:  unassuming, modest and unfailingly polite.

Canadian Road Trip

Magda and Joe invited me to join them for a road trip to eastern Canada's Maritime Provinces.

Thom asked if he could come, too.  After an overnight stop at Magda's and Joe's apartment in Coolidge Corner, his new Mercedes 400 SL got us as far as Bangor, Maine.  We crossed the Canadian border at St. Stephen's in the SUV that Joe had rented for the trip.

Joe booked all our accommodations on Airbnb.  The Salty Towers in St. Andrew's, a charming fishing village nearly empty of tourists, offered valises full of funky charm.

 

Our bathroom floor was made of pennies.

But not all the rooms were as modest as ours.  How's this for a bridal suite?

Somebody at the Salty Towers has an exquisite sense of color.

Deb, our host, suggested we climb the hill to the Algonquin Resort, popular with well-heeled golfers, fishers and Triumph aficionados.

We took our cocktails to an outdoor patio as the sun began its slow, western slide.

Hotel management occupies a gorgeous story-book property nearby.

Quaint and well-maintained homes contribute to St. Andrew's considerable charm.

 

Flowers, landscaping, early summer light and even fire hydrants add to the village's allure.

But nothing could beat the harbor at sunset.