My glimpse of PEI

A couple of my blog posts have been extracted and recrafted (chopped down) for posting here from a much larger travel log I started compiling about six years. The moose tales from last year come to mind first. When a friend mentioned that she was going to Prince Edward Island last week, I felt compelled to tell her of my misadventure when traveling there in 1997. So, here is another extraction from that log that I thought worth sharing...

...[From Newfoundland] the ferry ride back to Nova Scotia was without incident. Prince Edward Island was my next destination. Prior to the spring of 1997, the only way to get to PEI in a car was via one of two north–south running ferries—one on the east side of the island that connected with Nova Scotia, and one on the west side that connected with New Brunswick. A bridge, however, had been recently constructed, and was replacing the west-side ferry, much to the chagrin of the ferrymen who were losing their jobs, and some residents of the island who felt that their home would turn into strip malls and become overrun with visitors. Still, there was a serious celebratory atmosphere in both provinces. Heard on the radio were warnings of long traffic delays—45 minutes, that is—nothing much to a New Yorker; so I took the ferry that led to the east side of the island. Once off the boat, I drove the roughly 60 or so miles west across the island, passed through the city of Charlottetown, and made my way to where the festivities were taking place. Rumor had it that the Queen of England was making a trip to see the opening of the remarkable Confederations Bridge.

Further, while on the island, I had hoped to see the Anne of Green Gables house, since I heard that it had been seriously damaged by fire. I thought it would make an interesting picture, especially since a couple of co-workers had tried to persuade me get a picture of it for them (that is, before news of the fire).

So, I trudged across the slow but moving road and could see bands, carnivals, etc., taking place. All I needed was a place to park, and then I could walk around and see all that I wanted. The only thing was, I couldn’t quite tell where I was going: I was stuck behind a truck, with a line of cars behind me, and, because of barricades on each side of my lane, could only follow the truck around a long curve. Before I knew it, I was under a sign for the other (the west-side) ferry, where the only option for my lane was to board. So, I spent about two hours on the island, but never stepped foot out of the car, nor snapped a single picture on the island.

I'm glad my friend got to spend more time there and was able to take some pictures...


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