Cap-des-Rosiers - Dalhousie

When I woke up at 5:30 a.m., I decided to actually get up. The upcoming sunrise motivated me to leave my cozy bed. Despite being close to the road, it was an extremely quiet night, so I'm reasonably rested as I enjoy the spectacle behind my motel. Some guests have joined me, and together we gaze in awe at the new day unfolding so magnificently here.

Accordingly, I leave early - which turns out to be a good decision later on. Because as beautiful as the drive was yesterday, today it is tiring and not particularly varied. Unlike the west coast with the St. Lawrence River as a companion, the route along the Gulf of St. Lawrence is three levels lower in terms of scenic beauty. Although the blue water of the bay sparkles beautifully in the sunshine, the steep climbs and coastal feeling from the previous day are missing here. It's a flat landscape that the 132 cuts through, passing through several larger towns that offer little picturesque scenery but higher traffic. More trucks travel this route, and dozens of construction sites, which bring traffic to a standstill with traffic lights, are almost annoying.

And while yesterday there were picnic areas every few minutes, here you can drive for an hour without seeing one. So I focus more on my audiobook, and the 380 km still feel incredibly long. It's not until 100 km before my destination that there are two highlights. First, a beautiful view over the bay, and second, the end of my French expedition. Because I reach New Brunswick - where English is once again the main language. The first person I hear speaking English is a gas station attendant who refills my gas supply. 5 Canadian dollars as a tip are a small token of appreciation for a polished English, which I haven't heard since the airport in Montreal.

The second linguistic heart flutter I experience is when the nice young lady at the self-service checkout in Walmart in Campellton speaks to me with a British accent that I have identified. Although she emphasizes that she has never been there in her life, I don't care. I'm finally where I want to be. With renewed energy, I make my way to the last 30 km to Dalhousie, where I stay at a Days Inn. The chain is in good memory for me because it was my first accommodation on the American continent in 2018 - in San Diego. And even though there is no parking in front of the door here because it has more of a hotel character, I am very impressed by the modern room and the friendly reception from Jason at the front desk.

Jason would also like to travel, but he is afraid to fly. His furthest trip was to Alberta, also in Canada. It should be mentioned, however, that Alberta is 4600 km away from here, which is equivalent to the distance from Tromso in northern Norway to Messina in Sicily. That's how much the dimensions of the second largest country on this planet are. I don't need to mention that Jason speaks perfect English, and after this third encounter today, I realize why traveling in English-speaking countries excites me so much. It's simply the small talk that is possible at every little opportunity. Serge yesterday was an exception - otherwise, I have talked more today than in the past six days combined.

I end the sunny evening with a walk to the tiny harbor and the lighthouse of Dalhousie. I'm very excited about tomorrow. The 134 will be my new road home. The weather is not expected to be good. But that doesn't matter. The main thing is English.