We are now some 1850
km from Winnipeg,
and for the past few days we have seen nothing but glorious colours, hills,
rocks, and lakes. Many lakes, some so smooth when there is no wind in the early
mornings, that the sky and the lake seem to flow into each other and merge. It
has been very cold, with frost at night, but that has brought on the autumn
colours early, which is a bonus. The Trans Canada is very quiet, and crossing
the road is no problems, as long as one is aware of the huge trucks which come
thundering down the hills. This is a very vast country, days of just forests,
lakes, rocks, hills and the occasional village, called town here, however small
it is. We buy coffee and sandwiches in cafes along the Trans Canada,
just a two lane road in most places. Here and there old wooden sheds are falling
to pieces. Nobody seems to care. We also pass many small wooden churches, some
in good repair, others sagging and obviously no longer used. At BatchawanaBay we pass a small white clapboard
church facing the bay. It looks idyllic. When we leave to travel on the next
morning, bulldozers have taken the church down. It is really sad. Few people
live here year round, but there are many cottages facing the bay which are used
in summer. Some stay to do ice fishing, a sport I would not appreciate, sitting
in a hut on the ice in the freezing cold trying to catch something through a
hole made in the ice. I have seen those huts one year around Christmas on the Red
River in Winnipeg.
They looked like big lit balloons or lampions, lights shining through the
canvas of the tents.
We see so many colours, so many lakes, such beautiful
vistas, it s difficult to get an impression of all of them.
Here are some pictures taken in Thunder Bay, before we saw all the glorious colours.
I will try to post some more pictures if I have a good internet
connection. But usually we don’t.
Before that we admire the silvery light on the lakes, W.
admires a water plane, an old one, the type in which he was transported into
the bush when he had a summer job. Canoes were tied to the drivers and thus
transported. It is a nice, bright yellow plane, an Otter.
We also stop at an outfitter at EnglishRiver, a nice spot also on a lake. As
it is in between seasons – the fishing is over and the hunting hasn’t started
yet – the place is closed. When open there is a coffee shop with a view of the
lake – and of any piece of game hanging out in the trees opposite. Once W. and
J. faced a moose hanging there. There are trucks in bush colours, one even creatively
painted with tiny leaves and flowers, which are used to drag the killed animals
home. It is not exactly easy to carry a dead moose!
In Thunder Bay
we stay for a few days, enjoying the hospitality of my friends’ relatives. On
Saturday J. takes us for a drive to Silver Islet, on the Sleeping Giant
peninsula. Here we see beautiful autumn colours, vivid reds and yellows,
especially in the undergrowth. On the map the distance is negligible, but in
fact the distances are deceptive. Besides, we only have road maps which give no
indication of the landscape at all. Everything
is just white with red or black roads. National Parks are green. Altitude is
not indicated. So it is a surprising trip, the map being coloured in in my mind,
unfolding as if building up the landscape.
The shop cum cafe. Below some of the shelves of the shop
Silver Islet is another surprise today. It is a quaint old
place, on the shore of Lake
Superior. It was once a mining town, as silver
was mined on a very small island off the shore, not very far away. How they
could build shafts on that island, and a mine, seems a mystery. But the mine
was successful. Many of the houses facing the lake are original, some dating
back to the 1880-ies. Theylook very picturesque, but it is also clear the will
be very cold and uncomfortable in winter with the wind blowing down from the
lake. It is cold now, only 7 degrees. We meet some people who tell me that a
bear cub is in a tree nearby, so we take the car and carefully drive further
along the road. But all we see is a doe and a stag with antlers, grazing in
between the houses.
There is an old-fashioned store which sells anything one can
possibly need, and with a tearoom, attached to it which opens this Saturday at 2 o’clock. It is marvellous, as an old couple is
serving us, making coffee and soup. By the locals it is used as a pub, a place
to meet and exchange the news, gossiping about this and that and the other.
The shop is painted a bright blue, which reflects in the
water of the lake.
On our way to Quimet Canyon
We go back via dirt roads and on to QuimetCanyon, an amazing canyon with
lookout platforms hanging over it. We can see the lake, the autumn colours and
the awesome granite rock formations. But the wind is very cold and we wouldn’t mind
a pair of gloves. So we walk back via the boardwalks. It is an hour’s drive
from here via the Trans Canada to Thunder Bay,
where we arrive just before 6 o’clock.
It was a wonderful day, and we warm up on red wine, a lovely meal cooked by our
host, and enjoy each other’s company.
Today we have started on our trip to Virginia
Beach. The first stage is the Trans Canada from Winnipeg
to Thunder Bay. Since our start
wasn’t as early as planned, we decide to take it easy and do the 700 kilometers in two stages,
so that we can enjoy some photo stops. The dire forecast of heavy rainfall
hasn’t come true. It is sunny weather, although there is a cold wind. But as
long as it is dry, that doesn’t matter. We stop off the Trans Canada at West
Hawk village for a look at the lake and a cup of soup. The village is deserted,
as the tourist season is really over. Work is in progress on a new sidewalk.
The Trans Canada is very quiet. Vistas are wonderful,
especially because in the East the sky is spectacular with dark clouds. The
colours, mainly yellow with bright red and orange in the undergrowth and the low
bushes, form a wonderful contrast with the dark tall pine trees and the water
of the many lakes. Some of the rock formations along the road are yellow and
beige, some very pink. Supposedly it is granite. I love this landscape, with
the small rocky islands dotted across the lakes. It is amazing the fir trees
can grow on those rocky outcrops. We stop often along the way, and I also try
to take some pictures through the windshield. They may be a bit blurred, but at
least they give an impression of the road with its many turns and dips.
We visit RushingRiverNational Park on the way, just off
the highway. It is closed for the season, but we can have a hike there. The
colours are stunning, and getting deeper every day. It is cold though.
We find a motel in Dryden, a place which from the road
doesn’t seem interesting, but which actually turns out to be a very pleasant
town. When we go out to explore it at sunset, we are surprised by a wonderful
spectacle. The red sun which is low in the sky behind the ugly pulp mill, transforms
the plumes of steam into clouds of liquid fire. It doesn’t last very long, but
is unforgettable. As dusk sets in over the lake, deer seem to appear from
everywhere and roam the streets. Thus this town which most people will pass on the
Trans Canada without giving it a second thought, all at once has a magical
quality.
Relaxing with friends, having leisurely meals, drinking home
made wine - and very nice wine too - , discussing music, religion, especially
Mennonite theology and doctrines, playing around with two new cameras, walking
in the park, going on some trips nearby, it is all enjoyable. Even in the few
days I have been here, the colors have changed dramatically, as if overnight.
Also the temperature has dropped from 30 degrees to less than 10 degrees in one
single day, and the wind coming from the north is cold. I am happy to be here,
where I have no responsibilities. Perhaps that is the nicest thing about being
away, seeing much loved friends and being carefree.
Lower Fort Garry. An old boat used by the trappers who came from the North down the Red River to Winnipeg, their boats loaded with pelts
Entrance gate to the main house of the governor
Back into the past
Fishing in the Red River near Lockport Dam and Bridge
I have never been so early ready and prepared for a trip as
this time. I started packing and checking and doing the laundry a few days in
advance, so I could even cope with a visit of two hours and a 45 minute telephone
call the evening before my departure. A kind friend collected me and drove me
to Schiphol in plenty of time. Just as well. I thought I had checked everything
several times and wondered why I could not check in at home. So I tried the
machine at Schiphol, which also refused to check me in. Then an air-hostess
told me where to go. So I joined a line, waited till it was my turn only to be told that
I had to go to a row of desks opposite.
Again I waited, and when my luggage had been weighed, and all the papers –
or almost all – checked and I had been allocated a seat, the airhostess
asked for my ESTA document, which I produced. Apparently it was outdated, which
I did not know. So I had to pick up my bags again, and go to a special computer,
one of three close together, to apply for a new ESTA document. These were
dreadful machines with touch screens which either reacted too slowly, not at
all, or too quickly. It took ages to fill in the forms, and when they were
all done, and it was time to pay by credit card, the forms
miraculously disappeared and the screen told me that I could expect the
document by mail in about 7 days! That clearly wouldn’t do and I started the
whole procedure again, with the same result. It was rather hopeless. And it
wasn’t just me, quite a few people, mostly men, were waiting their turn and
were cursing the machines. A woman was in tears, fearing she would miss her plane
and thus her holiday. There was nobody to give us any assistance. In the end,
when we all despaired, an official came to our rescue. No document, but a number
was all we got after having paid by credit card. With this I was sent again to
a desk, and when I suggested that the other row of desks opposite would be
better, she said: No. So I waited again, and when it was my turn the air
hostess told me I was at the wrong desk and should go to the other desks
opposite. Here I waited again. But lo and behold, when I had given her the
number, I was finally issued with my boarding card! The whole procedure had
taken an hour or so, which meant there was no time left for shopping as the
terminal was right at the other end of the building. I longingly looked at the
electronics shop, but had no time to look around. Perhaps just as well, as I noticed that my new camera would have been a lot cheaper if I had bought it here. Once on the plane we were all given similar forms as the
electronic ESTA form, and I had to start all over again! It seems overdone and
rather paranoid to me.
After all the hassle it was a surprise to see the big church in Haarlem from the air, looking like a wooden toy, surrounded by lots of miniature red roofed houses and buildings, straight from the toy box of a young child.
At Minneapolis
we landed some 30 minutes late. Here too, the terminal for Canada
is kilometers away from the one for the transatlantic flights. So I walked at a
fast pace for 15 minutes at least, to get at the gate on time. Because at Minneapolis
we had to go through customs, pick up the suitcase and put it back on a
conveyor belt and go through security again. Every traveler knows the drill of
undressing bit by bit, as if being admitted to prison, no jackets, no shoes, no belts, no
metal jewelery, fluids in small quantities in clear plastic bags, laptop open
etc. Once at the gate I thought I had made it. But I was called to the desk over the intercom as something was not right. They did not tell me what but started
typing in my name and many other data, were on the phone all the time, waiting for a response or the all clear, etc. I despaired of ever
getting to my destination on time, but lo and behold after some 20 minutes I was given
the all clear, issued with a new boarding card and could finally board the
plane just 5 minutes before take-off.
More forms to fill out, now for Canada.
But at last, after a rather short flight of just over an hour, I reached my
destination. Once more through customs and passport control. I had a seat at
the back of the plane, which meant I was the last person out and the last one
to retrieve my luggage. But I had reached my destination. My friends who were
waiting had almost given up hope as I was the very last person to emerge through the glass sliding doors. It was a happy reunion. All is well that ends well.
A wonderful
weekend, the last days of summer and warmer than most of our real summer days!
It was a
weekend with lots of activities, happenings and all sorts of events all over
the country. "Open Monument Day" was a national event. It takes place
once a year in September, when monuments such as historic buildings and
churches, are open to the public. This time the emphasis was on gardens around
historic buildings: country houses, castles and private houses. It also was national
pipe organ day, among other things. Anyway, the weather was absolutely
glorious, a last chance to wear that summer dress! I had plans to go to Breda,
but as so often in the weekends, there were no trains going to or from Breda
due to...? It wasn't quite clear. So I decided to walk to two very nice and old
houses, one could be called a "mansion", just some 7 minutes from
where I live, which had opened their gardens to the public.
I had often admired
the front of the biggest house from the road, and from some paths through the
woods at the back, but the gardens are well hidden from view. They are really wonderful,
partly in the English landscape style, partly more formal. It is called the
French style, but in fact to me it resembled many English gardens, like Hidcote
Manor Gardens which I visited again last month.
They both have garden rooms,
separated by tall and very neatly pruned hedges. This garden also had a very
nice swimming pool, surrounded by floral borders and with very inviting seating
areas. I was allowed to take pictures, but not allowed to publish them. So I
will only show those which are in fact public as one can see as much from the
road. Or pictures of flowers which doesn't reveal much of the gardens.
The owners
sold coffee and other drinks, as well as homemade cupcakes, the money going to
a charity. They gave lots of interesting information about the house and the
gardens and the history of the former estate which was much larger, including
the woods at the back and the next house I went to, just a short walk away. The
small one had been completely modernised inside, but the outside was as it used
to be and to me very attractive indeed. Apparently it was bought by the son of
one of the women I used to play golf with years ago. That is to say, she
played, I had lessons and never really played! She was on duty as a guide and we were very surprised
to see each after so many years. She gave me a personal tour of the house!
The weather
was absolutely perfect for a leisurely walk to the houses and back through the
wild wood, which once belonged to the estate, later to the mental hospital, but
now is open to the public. It has some interesting plants, and a bridge dating
back to another era, when this was still private property.
One of four "dragons" on the railing of a bridge in the woods.
In the
afternoon I went to the beach with a niece and her two children and some
friends. It was ideal: not too hot, not too cold, not even very busy, clean and
clear water, no jellyfish to spoil the fun and a very high water temperature –
at least for the North Sea. A perfect Day.
It is
amazing how many people were about on bikes, cycling for the sheer pleasure of
it. Now that electric bikes have become very popular, many elderly people ride
bikes again. In a country which knows what the word wind means, they do come in
handy! There are more bikes than people in Holland! Including babies, we have
some 17 million inhabitants.
On Sunday morning
I just enjoyed the garden. In the afternoon I went to Haarlem to sing Evensong
in the BAVO, the main church in the Market Square. This is what we sang:
Introit:
Praise the Lord, ye servants – John Blow Preces and
responses: Gabriel Jackson Psalm: 146 Canticles: Noble in
B minor Anthem: Vox Christi
– Philip Wilby A Prayer of King
Henry VI - H.Ley
It was a
beautiful service, and in spite of the very warm weather the church was
relatively full. The town itself was still bustling with people, as here too
Open Monument Day had attracted lots of visitors who were now relaxing and
enjoying food and drinks on the many sidewalk cafe's around the church and in
the market square.
The singing
was wonderful, and afterwards we relaxed in the market square facing the back
of the choir, with well-deserved drinks! Aren't those robes hot!
The famous Muller organ
Choir stalls with one of the misericords, not used by our choir since we sang in the nave.
The following link is to the recording of the complete service of evensong. It takes quite a few minutes before anything happens and the service begins!
It was a
wonderful and perfect Sunday, even though my voice was still rather hoarse
because of the dreadful cold and bronchial infection I suffered from this past
week, and the effect of the antibiotics. But at least I sang in the choir and did
not have to sit in the congregation, biting my heart out that I couldn't join
in.
The weekend
was as warm and summery as the last weekend I spent in England after our
singing week in St. Albans. A perfect day.
