I'm now in the Iles de la Madeleine (IDM) after an unsuccessful attempt to hitch-hike from PEI. No one would stop to pick me up, though a lot of people were thinking about it. Everyone seemed to slow down and look, but no one stopped. Perhaps I wasn't showing enough leg, or maybe my hundred-mile-diet-lessened cleavage wasn't enough for them. I made it to IDM anyway, Wendy picked me up.
It feels great to be back. I arose at 5:30 a.m., grabbed my camera and headed east, in the direction of my local neighbourhood sunrise. I found one on the top of a hill called Butte des Desmoiselle. No, it's not translatable to 'lady's butt', but to this adolescent, it forever shall be. Being ignorant is such a joyful experience...you might consider loosening your tie and giving it a try!
I returned to my motel at 8 a.m. to be greeted by the smell of freshly baked bread and pain chocolat. Our motel is connected to an artisanal bakery which bakes breads and pastries fresh every morning, using no fat, sugar or preservatives. Wendy looked like she had found heaven when she bit into the pain chocolat. She, in fact, was. Don't be surprised if you never see her on the mainland again.
The shower in our motel will one day be removed in its entirety, put in a crate and shipped to the Plumbing Hall of Fame. It's not even a shower, it's a downpour...a torrent. A fire hose. It has enough pressure to blow the tits off a rhino, or wash Howard Stern's mouth clean. Your choice. I can't wait for my next shower. I'm half tempted to go find a muddy pothole and wriggle in it, it's that pleasant.
We currently have our motel door open and sunlight is streaming in. A fresh, though not windsurfable, breeze is blowing the window shades gently. It is warm, sunny and delicious. Life is good. I think I'll try to find a wave that's surfable this morning, followed by an afternoon windsurf if the wind gods allow. Life is tough.
I have an idea for a 'never been done before' photoshoot this morning...stay tuned.