It would seem I've become addicted to having online internet access on a constant basis. At my campsite this morning I was unable to access a consistent Wi-Fi signal so I gave up knowing that the ferry terminal had a prominent sign reading Free Wi-Fi. Wrong! Oh the signal came through loud and clear but the modem that fed it was not connected to the web and the gal in the office pleaded ignorance. You don't suppose this had anything to do with the internet café across the way selling access for $3 for 5 minutes? If the terminal was up and running their enterprise would be worthless. No, I didn't allow myself to be so manipulated. My present campground has a high-speed modem accessible only by a hard line in the office. Reading your E-mail and doing your browsing while anyone can walk by at any time is not a very comfortable experience. Unless I can access Wi-Fi from the privacy of my own RV I don't consider it internet access.
Little I was told by the gal in the tourist bureau in Little Current was accurate and turns out she was wrong about when the ferry terminal opens, just as well I didn't rush down but as it was I still ended up waiting half an hour for the gate to open. On the plus side they gave me the car rate for my RV. Everything about ferry travel is hurry up and wait. Having gotten my space at the front of the line I now had 2 hours to wait until loading. Spent some time touring the tourist traps beside the terminal before settling back to read my Electronic Version of MacLean's. I'm just a few months behind there. The Chi-Cheemaun's diesel-electric engines are nearly silent and vibration free, pity about the noisy plumbing in the head mind you. The crossing was effortless and without any surge or sway. Again I was impressed by how narrow the channel is at South Baymouth and at how tightly a ship that size must turn to negotiate the harbour. As one is forced to return to one's vehicle passengers don't get to see the ferry dock. The crossing took just over 2 hours.
Having spent half a day in transit I was not up to much for the remainder of the day. It was with some surprise I discovered that Tobermory Village Campground is run by Mennonites. I realized they were being forced out of an ever more urbanized Waterloo County but I had no idea they'd migrated so far north. They may be Mennonite but this campground is emphatically a commercial venture. On a walk around the park after supper I met a bearded gentleman who is working at some new cabins. I disturbed a few nesting redwing blackbirds and found some Indian Paintbrush and was very pleased to discover a clump of yellow lady slippers I was happy to point out to a couple from Korea who are here to visit their relatives in Richmond Hill.
Like drive-ins and movie theatres that want to sell their own over-priced pop corn and other confections and would like to prevent patrons from bringing their own private campgrounds have been quick to jump on the infected wood bandwagon attempting to forbid campers from bringing in their own firewood so that they may sell their own over-price green product. Somehow I find their zeal rather self-serving.
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