A small wooden house by a quaint Maine pond became my home away from home, Maine. Swimming, kayaking, sailing, picking blueberries and preparing for my upcoming sola camping trip in the north, I received the best possible hospitality and started to get acquianted with the natural beauty of the northeast.
It was no jackal nor coyote. This haunting other-worldly sound breaking intermittently over the Pond and carrying over unabated across the entire waterscape from side to side and beyond, did not emanate from a large mammal, but from a kind of middle-sized duck romantically called a loon…
Perfect carefree days by the pond: swimming, sailing the pontoon with family and friends, writing poems, sunbathing on the dock, picking blueberries from the secret bushes and enjoying a variety of good music at the Ossipee Valley Bluegrass festival. Especially notbale was the all-female Shel band.
Staying at two Maine private campgrounds, Lobster Buoy and MountainView, I had my first American camping experiences, got acquainted with this wondrous Atlantic coast, and its significant tides, and learned from kids about burrowing clams. Also, Lobster Weekend, Owl’s Head lighthouse and the awesome Fort Knox bridge.
The exciting ordeal of crossing from the land of stars and stripes to that of the maple leaf, from the toughness of border police to the warmth of an island home. My one and only cherished couchsurfing experience, and strong Canadian ladies. Welcome to Campobello Island!
Arriving by chance at Quoddy Head, Campobello, I witness and document some of the most amazing tidal fluctuations in the world. Watch my stop motion slider…
Enchanted home of a great president, a bi-national park, beautiful bays, swamps and predatory plants. A foggy farewell to a magical island.
Leaving Campobello in the fogs, and an original ferry boat.
Ferns, fiddleheads and the highest tides in the world. Fundy bays fill up during high tide. Lovely families spend an educational weekend in a beautiful national park.
The most amazing tidal experience, when the ocean literally stalks you, Boats, stranded on the sheer beach in low tide, soar 8 m up when it rises… Got to see it to believe it. and all that in a small New Brunswick town, Alma.
Leaving Fundy in pouring rain, crossing the state border into Nova Scotia. A great welcome center, but disappointment at the WOW campground, Truro: an expensive “dry cabin” and a missed “tidal bore”. Interesting radio shows on CBC as I keep driving.
Enjoying the environment and the social atmosphere of North Sidney’s KOA in pouring rain, meeting an expat on her 1-year KOAs camping trip, having her draw my wings, and getting a sense of place.
Donelda’s Puffin Tours, Englishtown, Cape Breton – a great example of a family business. A bit late in the season, but some puffins stayed out their migration for me. Also, seals, bald eagels, cormorants and other seabirds.
My first kitchen party (Ceilidh) was held in complete darkenss in a church hall at Baddeck, a small pleasant touristic town. Fiddling, Gaelic songs, ghost stories, family tales and some dancing animated the evening.
Taking the midnight “Marine Atlantic” to destination Newfoundland, I had a full day waiting for the “naughty, naughty rain” to stop, as the tent tumbled in a cold drier. Stopping for a hearty local dinner at the Cedar House, I got traveling tips across the tables from a fellow sola female traveller.
A small wooden house by a quaint Maine pond became my home away from home, Maine. Swimming, kayaking, sailing, picking blueberries and preparing for my upcoming sola camping trip in the north, I received the best possible hospitality and started to get acquianted with the natural beauty of the northeast.
It was no jackal nor coyote. This haunting other-worldly sound breaking intermittently over the Pond and carrying over unabated across the entire waterscape from side to side and beyond, did not emanate from a large mammal, but from a kind of middle-sized duck romantically called a loon…
Perfect carefree days by the pond: swimming, sailing the pontoon with family and friends, writing poems, sunbathing on the dock, picking blueberries from the secret bushes and enjoying a variety of good music at the Ossipee Valley Bluegrass festival. Especially notbale was the all-female Shel band.
Staying at two Maine private campgrounds, Lobster Buoy and MountainView, I had my first American camping experiences, got acquainted with this wondrous Atlantic coast, and its significant tides, and learned from kids about burrowing clams. Also, Lobster Weekend, Owl’s Head lighthouse and the awesome Fort Knox bridge.
The exciting ordeal of crossing from the land of stars and stripes to that of the maple leaf, from the toughness of border police to the warmth of an island home. My one and only cherished couchsurfing experience, and strong Canadian ladies. Welcome to Campobello Island!
Arriving by chance at Quoddy Head, Campobello, I witness and document some of the most amazing tidal fluctuations in the world. Watch my stop motion slider…
Enchanted home of a great president, a bi-national park, beautiful bays, swamps and predatory plants. A foggy farewell to a magical island.
Leaving Campobello in the fogs, and an original ferry boat.
Ferns, fiddleheads and the highest tides in the world. Fundy bays fill up during high tide. Lovely families spend an educational weekend in a beautiful national park.
The most amazing tidal experience, when the ocean literally stalks you, Boats, stranded on the sheer beach in low tide, soar 8 m up when it rises… Got to see it to believe it. and all that in a small New Brunswick town, Alma.
Leaving Fundy in pouring rain, crossing the state border into Nova Scotia. A great welcome center, but disappointment at the WOW campground, Truro: an expensive “dry cabin” and a missed “tidal bore”. Interesting radio shows on CBC as I keep driving.
Enjoying the environment and the social atmosphere of North Sidney’s KOA in pouring rain, meeting an expat on her 1-year KOAs camping trip, having her draw my wings, and getting a sense of place.
Donelda’s Puffin Tours, Englishtown, Cape Breton – a great example of a family business. A bit late in the season, but some puffins stayed out their migration for me. Also, seals, bald eagels, cormorants and other seabirds.
My first kitchen party (Ceilidh) was held in complete darkenss in a church hall at Baddeck, a small pleasant touristic town. Fiddling, Gaelic songs, ghost stories, family tales and some dancing animated the evening.
Taking the midnight “Marine Atlantic” to destination Newfoundland, I had a full day waiting for the “naughty, naughty rain” to stop, as the tent tumbled in a cold drier. Stopping for a hearty local dinner at the Cedar House, I got traveling tips across the tables from a fellow sola female traveller.