We have arrived

After driving 800 miles over two days, we have arrived at our destination of Prince Edward Island. As we approached the Confederation Bridge taking us from the mainland to the island we could tell we were entering a different realm. A thick forest covering rolling hills had given way to a flat, more maritime topography, indicative of the name for this area of Canada (The Maritimes.) Marsh inlets flank the road as the sea comes increasingly into view and the smell of the ocean becomes more common and profound. 

From the bridge, we see the numerous farmsteads of PEI that are expressed as a crazy quilt of patterns indicating the maturity of their plantings. It still seems early in the season. Off to Charlotttown.

Ironically we are staying at the Charlotte Rose Inn, named after a European princess in the 18th century as well as my granddaughter. It is tucked in a beautiful area of Charlottetown near the water. After dropping our luggage, we stretch our legs and head for the harbor.

It is low tide as the slight, salty smell of decaying seaweed and other ocean detritus fill our nostrils reminding us of our new surroundings. The shore line is filled with small rocks and mussel beds in a lumpy, dark patina. A pair of kayaks push toward the channel away from a large sandbar and a lone sailboat reaches in the wind.

Heading into town, we are quickly assaulted with effluvia of PEI’s most famous resident: Anne Shirley of Anne of Green Gables. There is Anne of Green Gables: The Musical; Anne and Gilbert, The Musical; The Anne of Green Gables Stone; and the Anne of Green Gables Chocolate store all within a stone’s throw of each other not to mention all types of related souvenirs that are proffered from other shops. Our room at the Inn, too, keeps her top-of-mind as it is the Lucy Maud Montgomery room with the complete collection of Anne books next to our beds and a picture and porcelain figurine of the young girl starring us down as I snore through the night.

But there is much more to the town than just Anne. We walk by St. Dunstan’s Basilica Church, a lovely example of gothic architecture. Well-tended Victorian houses and gardens line the streets. Ice cream and seafood restaurants and shacks straddle the waterfront filled with happy, hungry people. Street side restaurants do the same. Perhaps we should eat. 

We wind up at Claddagh Oyster House, an ideal establishment to embrace the local seafood. Ted loads up on bivalve-laden courses of local mussels and oysters attacking them with the gusto of the walrus in the Lewis Carroll poem, “The Walrus and the Carpenter.” We both have our fill of delicious local foods and after taking a short post-dinner stroll we retire for the night, tired well-fed and ready for the start of our ride tomorrow.