Rimouski - Cap-Chat

Half past six awake. Almost normal. I think in 2 days I'll be in the normal rhythm. Say goodbye to jet lag. Despite its visual shortcomings, the shower in my motel turns out to be a power device. However, shampoo is nowhere to be found. Also missing is a coffee machine. On the other hand, the bed was very comfortable.

After some dawdling, I make a detour to the local Walmart. Like its big brother in the USA, it's huge but noticeably more expensive. At least I can get cortisone cream without a prescription and Gatorade without sugar. Besides root beer, I've taken a liking to the blue stuff. And they have M&M's with almonds here. Oh my God, we're so behind. The Werther's Original shelf is bigger than anything we have. What do they find in that stuff? You can really get it anywhere in California, even in the smallest shops. Unbelievable. There are no cashiers here anymore - everything is self-checkout. I still understand how to use a credit card, but after that, a young man with rudimentary English skills helps me. It's amazing how you can pay with a card anywhere in the world these days.

Then it's back to Route 132, always along the coast. The St. Lawrence River has become so powerful that you can hardly see the other side anymore, and the concept of 'sea' is becoming more and more established in my mind's eye. Yesterday I read that the water has been salty since Quebec. So it is a sea. Period. For me as a Central European who needs at least 5-6 hours to get to the sea, it is a mental delight to drive alongside such a coast for hours. The houses are not as grand as they were just past Quebec, but there are rest areas every few kilometers, which I take full advantage of. The sun is shining, so is my heart - and a little dog comes running up and barks at me while I make a bagel. The owner is embarrassed. At least she apologizes in English.

After 3 hours, I turn right onto Route 299 towards Parc national de la Gaspésie. After half an hour through increasingly dense forests, I reach my destination, and it doesn't look good. The weather. Thick clouds hang around the mountaintops (although calling them mountains is a bit generous - more like hills), so the slightly longer walk I had planned becomes a shorter one. Which is fine. Because about 15 minutes before I return to the car, the sky grumbles quite loudly. And 1 minute after I sit in my car, the floodgates open. First timidly, but then violently. Lucky me. Despite my waterproof jacket, it would have been absolutely no fun.

In view of the lousy weather, I head to my next motel, the Pirate Motel & Camping, a bit earlier than planned. Here too, contact is limited to the bare necessities, but in return, I am compensated with a super room. Freshly renovated and well-furnished, the pirate chalet turns out to be the best accommodation so far. And the toilet has a sliding door. Just like at home.

After the rain stops, I seize the opportunity to take advantage of the proximity to the water, cross the street towards the beach, and spend 2 hours witnessing a spectacular sunset. It reminds me of my time in Newfoundland - it was equally spectacular there. A photographer with 2 huge lenses stands a few meters away from me, while I feel inferior with my phone. I smile friendly at him as I conclude the encounter after 120 minutes - and he probably smiles back out of pity. I consider smashing an 'iPhone 12 pro' on his head, but I let it be. I just say 0.9 percent.

As I walk back to the motel, I see 2 residents of a house by the sea also taking pictures. It seems that it's not that beautiful to look at every day. Or maybe they're working on a picture book. 'My Year in 365 Sunsets'. What does sunset mean in French anyway? Instead of going out to eat or getting something, I eat leftovers. Did I mention that reheating poutine in the microwave tastes absolutely disgusting? Well. Fresh again tomorrow. And if not, I still have bagels. At least I get to know some dogs while eating.