Roci and I – Oh là là French France!

France as in St Pierre and Miquelon😀😀😀

Bienvenue a France!

Andrei’s reaction was funny when he asked me about “how’s Canada going,” and I responded “but I’m in France now.”

”How the f… did you get there?”

”By ferry”

”Lol”

Sooo… I’m in really France now. And I really took the ferry from Newfoundland to get here. France still has a lot of islands from its colonial past, and St Pierre has an interesting story.

The guide that took my tourist group of one around St Pierre said the archipelago ownership changed nine times. Mostly between the French and the British, but they belonged for a few short years to Canada, too.

I landed in a place that’s quite different than any other place I’ve been to. Here, people say “Bonjour” on the street to you, they seem to be unhurried, and they don’t lock their doors at night. St Pierre is the megalopolis of the archipelago, at 5500 people, give or take. Miquelon, a much bigger island is a tenth of that. 

And what I find most interesting about the population here is not that they’re of St Pierre origin (only 50% is). The other half comes from continental France, and apparently a lot of families move here from France in search for a better quality of life. St Pierre has a lot of amenities that typically can be found in bigger cities, such as museums (alas, both of them were closed), sport arenas, a lot of fishing paraphernalia (mostly related to the distant past when fishing was 90% of the local industry), and of course, a lot of French restaurants. The first one I’ve sampled, Le Select, was very good. 

Here’s a pic of my dessert.

I’ve asked le serveuse (waitress) to call it crème brûlée, and she agreed, laughingly.

Well, it was delicious, same as the previous foie gras I had moments before, and the starting warm goat cheese salad was excellent, too. And I don’t even like goat cheese. Funny.

There are two annoying bits of St Pierre. First the weather. It pretty much sucks. Rains a lot that this time of year, and my fabulous Japanese umbrella is completely useless in 25 miles’ winds. Rain comes at you horizontally, and the umbrella is more of a liability than helping. At least I can claim I was the only St Pierre inhabitant trying to use one, as I haven’t seen anyone else with umbrellas. I was told I look like a character from The Avengers, and I nodded like I knew what that means.

The second annoying bit is that everyone wants to speak to you in English. The moment they sense your Bonjour is not genuine French, they switch to English. And while I exercised my French a fair bit in Quebec, here I’ve been speaking up to now just English. Bummer. Maybe in the Miquelon part I’ll be doing it more.

Not a big deal, mais…

 Here are a few sights from St Pierre.

Jason, the Fearless Leader suggested I get arrested. I’ve tried, but since I went after 17h (5 PM), Le Gendarmerie was closed.

A very interesting design for a sailing boat. Since only Don Marco may understand this topic, I won’t bother you with the details. Just look at those winches position. Weird!!!

And while St Pierre is pretty, the weather sucks. The wind is doing 37 mph, and the rain combined with that wind makes sightseeing a tad difficult. Well, Jean Marc, my host, has made it a bit more enjoyable, as he shared quite a few stories with me. One day we spoke mostly English, and the other mostly French. Or whatever dialect of French I speak…

Thanks to Jean Marc (and his son), here’s a video taken a little bit ago while going fishing. Dolphins in front of the fishing boat!

Apparently I missed having snow crabs (apparently the bestest type of crab) by a few days only – the product of the dolphins’ fishing trip.

The entry in the harbor is guided by this pretty lighthouse:

And since I mucho like the ferries, I’ve found a way to showcase both of them at the same time, by photographing this ‘billeterie’ display.

The one on the left is Nordet, and the right one is Suroît. Or the other way around.
Btw, the names mean Suthwestern and Northwestern winds. Cool!

I think I was told the boats were imported from Findland or some other Nordic country. They’re exceptionally strong, as the sea was not calm at all, and when they were plowing into the waves, there was such a solid feeling, almost as they were made of granite. Hmmm… maybe that’s a great material to make a boat from (business idea??). Probably not, unless I want to make them one use submarines…

I’ve put on YouTube two ferry crossing videos for your (short) viewing pleasure. And #2.

And as only the aft of the ship was open to passengers, here’s a pretty pic showcasing the pretty France flag, waving prettily in the pretty wind.

I think I’ve got the “pretty” word out of my system for while now…

Upon my arrival on Miquelon, I immediately started to impress the locals with my command of Baudelaire’s language (had to google Baudelaire’s spelling). Anyhow, I’m pretty sure they’ll publish something in the local paper about the exquisite French showcased by the sole American (or any other type) tourist visiting Miquelon completely outside of the tourist season.
Note: there might be a slight exaggeration in the above statement. You may want to translate it to “he got by with a combination of very rudimentary French combined with many hand gestures.”

Oh well. At least I’ve got to exercise my French, putting to good use the Oklahoma and Ohio crossing Pimsleur hours…

Note for Geo: at least my French is better than your Japanese was this March!😜😜😜

For whatever reason, I was uber-tired and feeling not so hot, so I’ve decided I’ll combo the dinner tonite, half French, half American.

In case you wonder which half was better, the answer is yes.

Since it was well after 19h00 (7 PM) local time, I said I won’t finish my Liberty fries. Ummm… that didn’t happen (no liberte in sight when I was done).

I find it funny how ‘Merican I’ve become, preferring my dinner much earlier in the day. One of the few areas where I think America has it right over France, food-wise.

And before turning in for what turned into an excellent night sleep, I conversed some more with Patricia, the L’ile Auberge’s owner and host. She apparently understood pretty well my dialect, and she even made a car reservation for me (after showcasing on a map that you need a car to see the entire island). Woohoo, I’ll be driving again!
l’ve even requested a French car (and helpful as I am, I offered Peugeot, Citroen or Renault), but Patricia wasn’t impressed by my patriotic request, stating she has no idea what brand of cars they have.

Side note: I’m getting Roci withdrawal. Miss my adventure partner…

Fresh and happy as a dog with bacon, I started my adventure for the week (it’s Monday today), by walking 260 meters to the rental place. Which turns to be an auto and boat parts store, with quite a few other objets d’activite, and a rental car. Yes, one rental car.
Thanks to my awesome French skills, I very quickly understand the previous customer (a woman, I was informed) hasn’t returned the car in time. How about I wait an hour?
My look was probably less than enthusiastic, so the chubby and happy-looking guy co-manning the Auto Action mega store and rental car place decided to call the customer. Over the phone dialogue ensued, and needless to say, my face’ expression didn’t change for the better. The customer (a woman, I’m informed again), has decided to keep the car one more day.
I’m decided nothing will change my happy mood, so I wisely say to the guy “c’est la vie,” and I leave.

And I’m prepared to walk, as I wear my new Adidas boots, and guess what? These boots are made for walking!

Aided by my boots, and the fact I have ridiculously long legs (and blue/green eyes, btw), I’ve started towards my first walking objective for the day, Le Phare du Cap Blanc.

After making it three quarters to the Phare, I hear a ridiculous high pitched honking from behind me. It’s Patricia, driven by her helper, and apparently the rental place got their car back 2 minutes after I left. They’ve been looking for me all over the island (which means they drove for another 3 minutes to make the loop), and they took me to the rental place. Gosh, what a nice gesture! I’ve showered Patricia and the driver with my perfectly accented merci beaucoup’s and now I have a rental car!

Alas, it’s not a Peugeot, but a Suzuki. Only 30-something thousand of kilometers, but it drives like they were light years, not kilometers. All types of lights are on, ABS, brakes, check engine, 4wd, and the car clunks like it’s going to lose a wheel any minute now. But it moves! And I’m hoping that since the 4wd light is green and not yellow, that means the four wheels drive actually works. But I’m not sure (and we’ll come to that later).

It is a working car after all, and I continue to showcase a dog with bacon type attitude.

Since I actually had breakfast this morning (not to mention anything about the relatively heavy dinner last night), I decide I’ll skip lunch, and I’ll just get a croissant (or perhaps a baguette) from the Boulangerie close to the church and the Nature Interpretation Center (Maison de la nature et de l’environment) I wanted to visit. Which I did later in the day, and I’ll surmise it’s totally worth the 7 euros admission price.

On another side note, isn’t it interesting how pretty everything sounds in French? Maison de la nature et de l’environment. Beautiful.

I park le voiture in front of the Boulangerie. Which is open every day of the week, except Lunedi. And since today is Lunedi, I decide that I’m too fat anyways, and I need no nourishment until dinner. Still happy as the proverbial dog with bacon. Or was it with a bone??

And without further ado (and croissant), I started my driving adventure.
And since I miss Roci, I’ve named my Suzuki, Le P’tit Roci. As in you could park it in Roci’s trunk, and perhaps use its 1L / 57HP on-a-good-day engine as Roci’s windshield wiper motor. Anyhow, it moves, and it even made it up on the little hill (5, maybe 6 degree angle). Barely, as I thought at one time I’ll have to jump out and push…

The Miquelon view made the adventure driving up the hill worth it!

Then Le P’tit Roci and I drove down the hill (much, much easier, but hearing exciting squealing brake sound that tells me the pads were supposed to be changed 10k kilometers ago). And we discovered some interesting places going South.

Since I have no time to fill the paperwork to take ownership of the pristine beach, we’ve left to explore some more.

Now I really understand what Columbus, Cook and Tintin all felt when they discovered magical new places…

And since nothing’s stopping us, we went on and on. Until we hit a blocked road for repairs. As tempted I was to ignite the sign, I could tell work activity was going on, so it was a futile attempt to bypass the signs. But not to despair! I found a detour, which means the same as detour in English (the first detour is in French, btw).
Only small issue was the detour was on sand. Muddy sand. On a sliver of road close to the water. And since it would have been stupid to proceed, we did. And made it! After all, how hard could it be?

As I’m not completely stupid, I did walk the road a bit before driving the not-sure-it-has-4wd car onto it.
I could sense Andrei and the Fearless Leader rolling their eyes, and thinking “Dumbo, why couldn’t you test the 4wd and see if you get all wheel traction?” Haha, I did try, but the windshield wiper motor has zero torque, so who’s the Dumbo now, guys?😜😜😜

And we so managed to get to the end of the roads on Langlade. Woohoo!

This is how the locals go from house to house and boat to boat at the end of Landglade. On one side they keep their boats on the beach, and on the right they have their houses. Cool!

Coming back from the extreme South, and inching back towards the muddy sand sliver of a road, I could only think “I hope we didn’t pass it the first time while at low tide.” But better to be lucky than smart, right? It seems there are no observable tides here.

I found another beach that looked as drivable as the Gladen? one in Newfoundland, and I kinda am glad I didn’t had the real Roci with me. It was sooo tempting to drive the POS on the beach, and I don’t think I could have resisted driving Roci. The beach sand (‘cause I walked it, of course) was wet and compacted, but there were maybe 10 meters of soft sand before reaching the good surface. I’m sure Roci would have made it over, with plenty of speed and the awesome Quattro… Alas, we will never know.

Going back to refuel the very fuel efficient Suzuki, we took a detour, just because. We went three quarters on the gravel road, and we found this:

I’m sure Roci would have been able to jump over. V8 with 360 ponies, and all aluminum light body.

Kidding. I wouldn’t have done it. I think.

After I left the Suzuki back with the mega rental car place, I did wander around the harbor, and admired quite a few aluminum boats. I guess they take icebergs seriously here…

And on that note, I’m going to dinner. I deserve a nice French dinner, and un verre du vin. Rouge, bien sur!

Bonne nuit from Miquelon, mon amis!

One bit of important travel advice: while on St Pierre and Miquelon, bring a dumb watch with you. The time changes are maddening, as your cell will catch at times the Newfoundland towers and then switch to a local cell tower. Or maybe the local cell tower. And back. And forth… Since it’s 30 minutes difference between the two, it drives you nuts. Times are always a-changing on the archipelago!

Sooo, today was my last full day in France, as tomorrow morning I’ll take the ferry back to Newfoundland.
Much lower key day today, but still very nice.

This was my very-early-for-France-dinner today:

Potatoes were from France, and for the life of me, I felt they were much better than any potatoes prepared this way I ever had (I love liberty fries, not boiled, but these were delicious).

Local cod was also on the menu, and Geo will really like this, a ton of red onion. It totally worked.
Then we had snow crab. I don’t like crab or any other alien life form, but man, this was good!

Yesterday’s snow crab catch by Jean Marc’s son. And this is the awesome Jean Marc himself, explaining me how you eat this strange looking creature (I’ve noticed that if you play the ignorant, people will help you a lot – but in this case I was mostly ignorant):

And since I had bought some cheese and a baguette earlier, of course, that was my desert. Mmmmmm… doughnuts, in the immortal words of Homer Simpson.

I adore French everything, but especially the food. And It’s probably good that I live in the States and not France, as I think in two months I’d look like this:

By which I mean adorable.

And on a side note, the humidity makes my pants shrink. Only on the waist, weird… My jeans were fairly loose when I left, now not so much. Bloody humidity!

After such a feast, I felt the need to walk, which I did for almost two hours, and in the process burning probably 5.7% of the calories I ate.

After a full day of rain, the sky was clear, albeit a bit hazy, and I took this shot:

I believe my phone takes great pics, but it cannot show properly the Moon for some reason. It was way bigger and clearer in real life, and you’ll have to take my word for it.

And since I’m in France, the motherland of my childhood-fave SF author, Jules Verne, I took another shot:

A shot at the Moon, as in the book.

I did not get to the Moon, alas… as the guns defending St Pierre are not operating anymore. And an interesting fact, they were never used against the British, as intended – since by the time of installation, St Pierre and Miquelon was finally and irrevocably given to France. They used to be fired for Bastille Day, until one tragically malfunctioned. So, they’re not used anymore.

À bientôt, St Pierre!

Micro-update from the early morning trek to the ferry:

The sky was on fire!

And soon after we were closing in Fortune, Newfoundland:

…and next, it’s Back in the USSR… I mean Canada!