But I must have been asleep at some time because I was away on my travels again during the night. We were back with the cars again during the night, and back where we were a while ago with three cars all of which should not have been on the road for one reason or other.
One of them was my green Vanden Plas with its collapsed floor, but worse than that, when you switched on the wipers and the lights, it took five minutes for them to warm up before they would work. And so I set out one evening in the driving rain, switched on the lights and wipers and, as usual, nothing happened. And with no lights, this was an extremely dangerous thing to do.
It put the wind up me so much that once we were on our way I rolled it down the hill into town and left it there, and walked back to tell everyone what I had done. The road down to the shore was closed for repair and so a diversion was posted. And thanks to the diversion I discovered much more about the town. Today is the day that it changes schedule from three crossings per day instead of two, and the crossing was cancelled. Next sailing is at and I have far too much to do to wait around.
Instead, I went to the supermarket which was open for some more salad stuff and the like — stocks are running low here. Next stop on the road was at Les Escoumins.
And this was something that I was hoping to put right today. Despite the miserable, depressing wet weather, I went out to the headland at the mouth of the river. The cross that is there is quite significant. It relates to an event that took place in the early 17th Century when the earliest Christian missionaries arrived here amongst the Innu. They found that a cross had already been erected on this spot. How it had come to be here was a mystery. It is known that Jacques Cartier, on his voyages here in the 16th Century, erected crosses wherever he landed on the shore, but there was no record of his having placed one here.
