Il Pleut but the Rain Gear Does its Job

We awake to rain and even though we drag breakfast out as long as possible we eventually have to gear up and set off. Our motel and others have plug-ins for cars so it must get cold here in the winter; hope these habitants get some good weather soon because their nice scenery would be so much better with sunshine. We are riding down the east side of the Saguenay River on Highway 172 which is much like the west side: 75 kilometres between services or even many signs of life (you get the picture). We zigzag off the highway and ride down to Sainte-Rose-du-Nord because Marlene is ready to bail if she doesn’t see a fjord and finally we see what we’ve ridden all this way for. We meet another couple on a motorcycle who have come from our destination, Tadoussac and they are quite wet (are we having fun yet?). It is plain to see the female rider is not having a “live to ride” day.
Long story short we get to Tadoussac where we are glad they have good restaurants because the weather does not improve. Tadoussac belongs to the Most Beautiful Bays in the World Club and we recognize that it has a very pretty natural setting. It is also the oldest village in Canada, the site of the first trading post, and a premier whale watching destination. The whales are even more elusive than the fjords and we are a bit disappointed, however, we remind ourselves that we will see both in Newfoundland (been there, done that). The forecast is for more rain tomorrow!
One of the frustrating things about the English/French language barrier is not understanding the comments that people make to us conversationally while standing in line or walking by, etc. For example, we were walking back from the store last night and we had a six pack of Moosehead beer. We were attempting to cross the street and a man stopped his vehicle and motioned us to cross in front of him. When he drove by, with a big grin on his face, he yelled something out the open window of the vehicle. We know not what he said but didn’t hear any of the French swear words we know so we conjecture that he thought we were drinking the right kind of beer or he liked Barry’s new Harley Davidson shirt or he liked Marlene or all three.
Marlene, who is a reader, finds the absence of written English really frustrating because all the visitor interpretation are not accessible. Additionally because no signs, directions, or maps, are written in English we’re making quick translations while riding which makes things tense. Of courses one antidote to tension is beer and it is even a bit cheaper here than at home. Speaking of beer, we have tried several different kinds: Stellas Artios, Grolsch, Heineken, Moosehead, Alexander Keith’s and of course the old hockey team faithful Budweiser. Moosehead is still right up there with the best.