Miss Hathaway has a nervous breakdown!

I just picked up one of those lovely little lunch packs (an egg salad sandwich, some cut up veggies and some mac salad) from le eee gee ah (that's right, I'm back in French New Brunswick) and have picked out a tree alongside the Madawaska River that looks like a nice place to picnic.

I'm about 15k from the Quebec border and my original thought was that I would get as closed as possible and then slingshot through La Belle Provence as quickly as possible. My experience on the way down wasn't that great and I didn't find people all that friendly. However, upon reflection, I realized I need to keep an open mind. So tomorrow I'm heading to Riviere du Loup on the south bank of the St. Lawrence to give it another try.

Poor Miss Hathaway had a pretty rough time today. I don't know how old her maps are, but she showed my driving cross country (which – if you've ever seen northern New Brunswick – would a complete impossibility) and kept “recalculating!!!, recalculating!!!!!” Fortunately, I could read the Trans Canada Highway signs, so, for once I knew where we were.

People who drive RV s like to wave at each other as we pass along the road. However, there seems to be a pecking order in play. You never wave at a vehicle smaller than yours – which is good for those folks who drive those Greyhound sized Big Rigs. Most of them are well past 70 and they need all their fingers and toes present to manage a monster that size. But for the rest of us, it's like belonging to a secret club, with our own rules and handshake. I saw a guy almost drive off the road waving at a motorhome that was exactly like his. And if you stop at a visitor information centre, everyone gathers in the parking lot to exchange bits of information about good campgrounds, road conditions and – of course – the weather.

Had to stop yesterday for a final “McLobster” and since lobster season just began today, I'm wondering what was in them.

I'm trying to take a different route home as much as possible although it's tempting to go back and revisit places I enjoyed on the way out. This is still an adventure, and I have much more to experience.

This evening I have a family of Canada goslings poking around my campsite looking for a handout. I suspect they are pretty spoiled with all the kids and families here. They keep hopping up on my step to peer in the door, and, of course there is a very mystified Digit on the inside looking out. She doesn't seem too sure whether her role is prey or hunter – but since there's a layer of screen between them, it really doesn't matter.

To be continued....