The Tides Of Fundy

I absolutely love the Bay of Fundy. It's a miracle of nature that the tides go out and come back in everyday. I know it happens wherever the ocean is. But the bay is somewhat special. Everywhere you look are water falls, rolling hills and pastoral flats of green and water. Covered bridges are a common sight; Madison County should blush at its silly boast. Yet, you know that simmering just beneath the surface is a storm waiting to rage. It's the seeming peaceful waters that I love, knowing the same water can be so potently violent and unpredictable.

The Boy stood in the ocean floor and waited for the tide to come in. Within minutes, the water went from his shoes to his knees. He kept saying we have to come back with his cousins next year, Kid1 and Kid2, and in fact, why not organize our annual group camping trip at the Fundy Park. I think that would be a blast.

There is a town called Alma, just outside the park. We had all our meals there. Lobster dinners are available everywhere. I am trying to not overeat, as I already look well fed. There are houses on cliffs that overlook the tide. I want a house there, where I sit and really focus on writing.

But this is what I notice about New Brunswick. Despite all the efforts by the Maritime governments to promote tourism, the service industry in fact isn't quite prepared to receive customers. Every person, whether in a restaurant, tourist booth, or gas station, wears that Twin Peaks stare. It's a wait, size you up, then act friendly. I keep thinking behind their forced friendliness, they all belong to some midnight cult, and when they stare at us, they are really trying to decipher if we are one of them. Or maybe they just feel their land invaded by city folk.

We had lunch in a family restaurant once. The Boy ordered caesar salad and something else. The waitress came back after a while and said to us, We don't have Romaine lettuce so we sent someone out to get it. Later, she came by and said, We couldn't get Romaine lettuce, so do you want Iceberg lettuce in your caesar salad instead? It's quaint and all. But she might as well have said, Do you really want to eat here? We have a sacrificial ritual happening in the back and you're kinda in the way right now.

Today, we made it to Charlottetown, PEI. It's nice here, but it's not the Bay of Fundy. Even though the tide also goes in and out, and you get the greenery, and water is not far away, I am not as enamoured with PEI as I am with the bay. I don't feel the potential for violence in the air. I need to know passion lies beneath my feet.