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Published: August 25th 2015
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Somewhere I read that in PEI, your heart rate will slow, your smiles will last longer, and you'll sometimes forget where you left your shoes.
We just got here and it's already happening. How can it not when every drive takes me past gabled farmhouses, gentle sloping hills and seaside villages? It is so peaceful and bucolic here. Each curve of the road brings a new panorama into view.
Today serendipity brought us to Rustico, at first glance a salty little fishing village. But look harder and you'll discover that it's actually a popular tourist area. We popped in to get a coffee and found a long, red sand beach that was shallow and warm. It was hidden behind sand dunes and we only found it when we went for a walk in that direction. There was what looked to be a small store selling beach bags nearby. An old, white-bearded sailor with a deeply lined face sat on the porch. We had a bit of a chat, with me repeating my questions many times as he was deaf as a post. He kept cupping his ear and saying, "Eh? What's that?". Can I take your picture?", I asked.
"Sure", he agreed. "There's enough pictures of me to fill a car", he continued. "There are pictures of me in Germany, England, you name it", he said proudly, and with that, he pulled off his dirty old baseball cap and plopped on a black plastic sailor's hat, the kind that keeps the water off in a storm. He arranged his creaky old limbs into a suitable pose, put on a serious look, and I took the picture. It may not be unique, but I think it's still pretty special.
The front door of the store had a sign which read "Come on in", so we did. We took a step inside and became confused. It looked like we were in someone's house. It was quaint and old fashioned but definitely a house, not a store. I sang out, "Hello, hello?, and a lady came out of the back, looking just as confused as us. "The sign said come in", I explained. "Oh, that's for next door", she said. "The lady there is selling some beach bags". We apologized, red-faced, as we backed out. "No problem", she said with a laugh. She must have thought we were crazy.
It
was time to head to Cavendish and Green Gables. Every Canadian girl has read "Anne of Green Gables", written in 1908, about the adventures of Anne Shirley, an 11-year-old orphan girl who is mistakenly sent to Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert, a middle-aged brother and sister who had intended to adopt a boy to help them on their farm in Prince Edward Island. The book is about life in PEI but more importantly, about community, acceptance and love. It is loved around the world.
Author Lucy Maud Montgomery's life closely resembled Anne's. She was born in nearby New London during the late Victorian era, and after her mother's death was brought to Cavendish to be raised in the home of her maternal grandparents, who had a house and small farm. Maud, as she liked to be called, would also frequently visit her cousins, the MacNeill family, who owned a farm named Green Gables. Her experiences in the community formed a strong impression on her and she would later include many of them in her book.
We arrived at Green Gables Historic Place and entered a small cottage where there were many articles and photos from the author's life. Her
cousin twice removed, Elizabeth, briefed us on Maud's history. Elizabeth was lovely and gracious and happily signed my copy of the book when I asked her. The old typewriter on which "Anne" and its sequels were typed stood nearby and I marvelled at how such wonderful stories could come out of such a simple machine. Elizabeth's aging parents and brother still live in a house on the property and tend the beautiful grounds themselves.
In order to reach Green Gables itself, we walked down a shady path past the site where Lucy Maud Montgomery's house once stood. The old foundation and well are still there. We strolled down what Maud called "Lovers Lane", a tree-lined path which was serene and cool. The lofty trees dappled the ground and I could imagine Maud walking here over 100 years ago. She loved this place so much, she called it "Hallowed Ground". I can see why. In other parts of the property, one can also walk through the "Haunted Woods" which, in a child's mind and in the dark could be very scary indeed, but to us was calm and peaceful. "Birch Hollow" curved around little creeks and meandered along. Lovely quotes
from Maud's journals are scattered among the walking trails acknowledging her affection and reverence for this place she called home.
As one approaches the end of the path, Green Gables comes into view. Remember, this was her cousin's house which inspired the book. But being there, it is hard to imagine that Anne wasn't real. Her image is imprinted so indelibly on our minds that one can imagine, just for a moment, that she existed. The farmhouse exterior has not really changed over time, and its decor and artifacts depict the late Victorian Period in rural Prince Edward Island. The flowers in the yard bend colourfully in the breeze and the yard is lovingly tended.
A big barn, not original, is on the site and we watched a short film there on Montgomery's life while drinking raspberry cordials. Nearby, children were taught to make beeswax candles by girls dressed in period clothes. As we came out, we could see a girl dressed as Anne skipping past an old horse carriage. It was all so well done, simple and real. No Hollywood effects. No Disney. I think Maud would have been happy and proud to see the places she
loved preserved so well.
We left Green Gables for New Glasgow which, we were told, had an amazing lobster dinner. And it did! We stood in line at 4 pm with all of the others and it was worth it. We had salad, unlimited mussels, a pound of lobster each, and pie while watching kayakers on the river below. As a bonus, we got to watch a boy of around 10 inhale mussel after mussel with such speed that it was really just a blur. He used the jointed shell of one mussel to extract the meat of another and worked so fast that we lost count of how many he ate. I believe that he stopped after the third bucket. It was amazing to watch.
It was time to go home. But first we stopped at Canoe Cove, near where we were staying. The tide was out and as we waded out into the shallow water, the reflections created by the setting sun were stunning. The water was deliciously warm and the sun's rays highlighted the red cliffs nearby. We were almost the only people there. How amazing it was to experience solitude amidst such stunning natural
beauty.
Finally we returned home. Karyn, Rory and Shyla were still up and we sat and visited. What great people they are. Rory and his mother have a fun, rambunctious relationship. At one point, Karyn laughed and said to Rory, "Don't point your finger at me. It's got a nail in it!". With a twinkle in his eye, Rory retorted back, "I may be pointing one finger at you but there are three pointing back at me!" They were such fun to watch.
Into bed we finally fell. Tomorrow is another day and we have more of PEI to explore!
(Scroll to bottom of page for more photos.)
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Stuart and Sarah
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Squeaky sand
PEI what a dream come true. Like a pot of gold at the end of a long rainbow. Your squeaky sand experience reminds me of our sand here on our local beach. It is the same type of squeaky white sand. When our daughter Beccy was little; she would say as she walked on it "the sand has mouses in it." You are fortunate that you both like seafood. I dislike most seafood except for fish and prawns. Spent too many redneck years on the prairies eating steak and potatoes, potatoes and more potatoes. Sarah being a New Zealander was brought up on paua, whitebait, crayfish and mussels. Shame she missed out on potatoes.