The Six Nights Away Run - Day Three

Well, night two wasn't one to be remembered. The agregated effects of a day of rich food, sweets and beer kept me awake half the night and modesty forbids me to go into any of the details. A warming shower and a walk around the campground sorted me out, though, and by mid-morning, Mr Toad was ready for action.

A note on the campground, though. It's very quiet, hardly anyone here, but it is without doubt the "buggiest" campground we've been to yet. It may be the humid weather, the Park's proximity to the lake or the dense tree cover but whatever the reason, these bugs can bite; my ankles and wrists are covered in red, itchy blotches. It's not even as if we've been sat outside much, either. I'm feeling that myy statement "Let's not bring the Bug Tent" could have been mis-placed.

Anyway, to the day's events. A gentle run to Penatanguishene was in order, with the aim of an afternoon's boat trip into Georgian Bay's 30,000 Island region. Penatanguishene is at the head of the next bay along from Midland, where we'd been the previous day but it was lovely to re-trace our route through the undulating country-side, especially as hills are something we don't really have in south-western Ontario. The weather was a bit better, too. The wind had come around to the north-west (normal for these parts, apparently) and taken the humidity away, albeit that it was still sunny and in the mid-twenties.

The drop down the "Rue Main" towards the harbour was surprisingly steep and the presence of so much French signage set this place apart from its near neighbour, Midland. We keep coming across these pockets of Francophone resistance to the English tide and it was nice to see all the signs, posters and the like so resolutely bi-lingual; in our part of the world, only the Federal stuff is truly bi-lingual.

Down at the harbour, now a marina of course, stood the Georgian Queen, the former HMCS ice-breaker that's been taking tourists around the bays and islands for decades. She looked a stout vessel, as I suppose she would given that she had been an ice-breaker, but gay (in the traditional sense) with her strings of coloured lights and Maple Leaf flags. The ticket office wasn't open as we were a couple of hours ahead of her sailing time, so we decided to head over to Midland to pick up lunch in Ciboulette et Cie, that rather nice looking cafe and food shop in King Street. It only took ten minutes to get there and after dropping an obscene amount of money for said lunch (Quiche and quinoa salad for Mrs T, Chicken in ciabatta for me) we were back on the dock at Penatanguishene in no time and munching through our goodies.

When the Georgian Queen's ticket office opened, we parted with $54 and at 2pm, set off into Georgian Bay. There was only about 50 people on board the Georgian Queen, which meant plenty of room to move around, but served to remind me that it's rare for anywhere to busy, even at the height of summer, in these here parts. If you're thinking of heading this way for a holiday, you'll find it quiet and relaxing.

The cruise was scheduled to run for three and a half hours and, given that it takes over half an hour to get out of Penatanguishene Bay, I could see why they'd allowed so long. The ship's Captain also did the commentary and was really very good. He was obviously a local boy and had lots of asides about who owned what houses and whose boat was which. There are some seriously expensive houses flanking Penatangushene bay, some used only as summer "cottages"; the presence of a couple of float 'planes and some seriously sleek boats confirmed the affluence. As we moved out of the small bay and into Georgian Bay proper, that north-westerly was really blowing but it was still  pleasant to sit by the rail and watch the islands slip by. We crossed a tract of water called The Gap and suddenly where there had been sandy beaches on the shore, it was all rock; every island was made of humps of smoothed over granite and mostly covered in straggly pines. For the geography buffs, we were now on the Canadian Shield, the rocky area scoured for millenia by ice that had been kilometres thick.

The Captain nosed the ship through some very narrow channels between these rocky outcrops and there we were, in amongst some of the 30,000 islands. It's very interesting to see that just about every island, even some no more than a few hundred feet across, had some form of house built on it. Not a shack or hunting lodge, you understand, but a smart house with acres of glass, a private dock and a couple boats tied up there. Most houses had electricity, piped in from the mainland, water drawn from the lake and septic tank sewage systems that are regularly emptied by floating poop collectors. Both Mrs T and I had a few misgivings that people can have these summer cottages with all mod. cons. as their second homes and yet so many people struggle to have a single roof over thier heads. That said, these cottages have been built with local labour and are supplied and maintained by locals, so I guess there's a economic system working here.

Three and a half hours later we were back on the dock in Penatanguishene, a bit sunburned, but quite pleased at such a pleasant afternoon's diversion.

On our return to Mara, we dined on Duckworth's fried supper and sat down to watch a movie. Me, I fell alseep in minutes and was chivvied to bed by the good Mrs T, and it wasn't even ten o'clock.

Tomorrow is departure day, not departure for home, though, but for Emily Provincial Park, about 80 Kms south west of here. Let's hope that the excellent weather continues!