Strolling further down the 132 highway into the hinterland of the Gaspe Peninsula Hal is losing weight at an alarming rate. His belt buckle has had to be cinched to last hole, we are going to visit a tanner today instead of visiting a 3000 flowered garden to make another hole. Meanwhile his wife is gaining weight at an alarming rate having to loosen the stitching on her clothes, where is the justice? He has corrupted me to coffee, even if I only drink about 1/3 of a cup a day and a sip of beer, of all things, I have truly hit a low, in that regard, even if he only likes artisan beer. The implication of beer reeks of men with bulbous noses coming home too late to assist with chores, and never ...
Historic homes, schools, and general stores much like Heritage Park are numerous with original furniture from the 1700 onward. Hal keeps trying to lie on their couches, I can't believe the mere one inch thermarest's we are delighted to sleep on each night are not enough. Silver spires capture our eyes of the Catholic churches through trees, over mountains and along shoreline towns.
History lesson 101 we have it good. No more said, the Navigator Route we are on explains in great pains our ancestors experienced trying to clear the land, and stake out a mere life. The seigniorial system brought in by the French for land distribution, made land owners establish a church, school and mill for workers. All farming land here exists in large strips of land that extend down to the water, which was mandatory for everyone to have access to sell their goods along river or ocean route. The French took their feudal system and brought it to Quebec, land owners, which had to rent land from their seigneur also had to give a portion of their produce to them and if they wanted to do anything on their land it had to go through their owner. Ah...
Just when things look grim Hal swerved the car into Tete Allumette - Head of the Match - an architectural modern country artisan brewery. Yellow/red/green paint decorated the indoor of one section of the brewery while soft oak wood stools surrounded a circular bar displaying their meek yet growing beers on tap. My camera wasn't still for long. Outside old bus benches stretched along the outside perimeter coveting the red/green/ and yellow chairs and tables overlooking a crop of greens just before the ocean. Lest to say Hal was in Valhalla sipping his sour beer, nectar of Thor and Odin.
The deluge wasn't going to let us off, we ran from boutiques to art and café passing up on many ice cream creameries and cheese farm until the pecherie - fish shops - come about. Our palates have feasted on savoury fish three nights in a row, and we are now hooked.
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