Continuing along New Brunswick's Acadian Coastline I stopped a night at a poorly run campground in Bouctouche before spending Friday and Saturday night in Shediac near Parlee Beach. Declaring itself the Lobster capital of the world the tourist bureau has a strip of small shops featuring local cooking, crafts, and knick knacks plus Le Homard Gros—the Big Lobster. At my campground managed to catch up online and read 6 weeks worth of CBC News updates. Reading about all those murders, violence, political intrigue, and natural disasters in one sitting is quite an experience. In the last month I've also made a concerted effort to read my way through 10 month's worth of MacLean's Magazines, now it's on to 16 month's worth of Reader's Digest along with PC World and Backpacker. In Shediac spent an evening in Pascal Park listening to a public outdoor concert of Acadian Music and took the bike trails down to see the beach and other attractions associated with it.
Before leaving Shediac I got my RV in order, my propane tanks filled, my holding tanks emptied, and my water tanks filled. Left Shediac Sunday morning and entered Nova Scotia through a fog bank that concealed Tantramar Marsh. Also missed being piped into Nova Scotia because the person who plays the pipes takes weekends off. Found a bank and shopping centre in Amherst and drove out to Masstown Market near Truro to stock up on the likes of Brown Bread, Dulse, fresh strawberries, Valley Apples, Maple Syrup, and Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. On the way to Five Islands on Highway 2 discovered that what I'd read about the condition of Nova Scotia's roads in MacLean's Mag was no exaggeration—tire eating potholes.
At Five Islands was given a warm Nova Scotia Welcome, a tour of the park, and led to my campsite discovering to my elation that they'd installed a 30 AMP hook-up for me. Since I'd been led to expect I'd have no hook-ups I was delighted to be so surprised. Shortly after my elation was dampened when I spun out on my bicycle on the loose rock covering the hilly roads in the park and skinned my left knee, sprained my right ankle and bruised both palms. Nights in the park are punctuated by marauding racoons who stage raids on the garbage cans, scattering their contents. Doe's with fawns wander through the park one showing off twins and another a singleton. Overhead soar bald eagles. In the forest especially in the early morning the fluty calls of Wood Thrushes vie with the ubiquitous robins. Near my campsite the "Quick, Three Beers" call of the Olive-Sided Flycatcher sounded and a black-throated green warbler posed just below the campground office.
The joys of Five Islands Park are esoteric ones best appreciated by those satisfied to spend the hours it takes to see the dramatic rise and fall of the Fundy Tides. For those who can get a campsite with a view of the Minas Basin or who take the time to make the half-mile hike to the shore the rewards are great. However these waters are more for looking than swimming as when the tide is in the beach is covered by coarse pebbles leading to muddy tidal flats. Once past the waters warmed by those mudflats the deeper waters are chilling and plagued by dangerous undertows. The change of tides is marked by powerful currents and at low tide the mud flats stretch for miles. For those who would dig clams conditions are ideal and for those properly shod a walk to check out "the Old Wife" rock formation and the exposed cliffs is rewarding as long as one remembers to keep a weather eye on the state of the tides. Boating is not advised. When they can be seen, sunsets are spectacular.
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