12th June 2018

Checking out of motels in the Canadian wasteland doesn’t seem to happen in the usual way. We are simply asked to leave the key in the room and shut the door behind us when we leave. No reminder of the checkout time, nor any apparent check on whether we had made off with the TV, microwave, or fridge! The Canadians out here are very trusting, though so was Gwenda, who would leave the house unlocked whenever we took her out. It used to be much the same when I was a young lad in God’s own country, Yorkshire. Back then, doors were rarely shut, let alone locked during the day, unless, of course, you were heading to the seaside for a week. Knocking on a neighbour’s door when visiting was unheard of; that would have been far too formal, you just walk in. How things have changed in the UK. Keep the faith, Canada.

Today we left the room key by the TV, shut the door, and set off west on a leisurely four-hour drive to Schreiber. A railway town, it was named after an Englishman who rose to the rank of Chief Engineer in charge of railway construction in Canada. He was rewarded with a knighthood and a town named in his honour.

As with the previous leg of our journey, we encountered very little traffic, surprisingly, given that it was a Monday, a working day. The sky was cloudless, and the scenery slipping past became increasingly more interesting. Signs of habitation grew more frequent, campsites, small clusters of houses, and lakes dotted with cabins. We passed through Jellicoe but saw no cats, then Beardmore but spotted no beards. As we entered the forest-covered Palisades, the journey took a turn for the better. Gone were the long, ruler-straight ribbons of tarmac stretching from horizon to horizon. Instead, we wound our way along the shores of lakes, on roads squeezed between water and mountain, a much-needed change from the day before.

We stopped for a toilet break in Nipigon at a petrol station and discovered that they served free coffee, so we had two! I took the opportunity to wash the windscreen, as the insects had painted it with their internal workings while mindlessly playing chicken with the Nissan Rogue at 90 kph. There was only ever going to be one winner, but they kept coming regardless. Amusingly, I realised I had half-washed the car parked next to mine before noticing that it was a Kia, not our Nissan! In my defence, they were the same colour.

From Nipigon to our accommodation in Schreiber, we headed east again, following the shore of Lake Superior. Once more, the scenery changed, providing a welcome contrast to earlier stretches of the journey. The settlements we passed through were very rural and very picturesque, and I imagine a very desirable place to live for a Canadian.

After checking into the Villa Bianca Inn, situated alongside Highway 17 and close to the Trans-Canada Railway depot, we took a drive through town. We stopped at the Railway Museum, only to find it shut; nothing for tourists outside the big cities seems to happen until 1st July. We searched in vain for a local restaurant for lunch but eventually had to settle for KFC.

After replenishing a few calories, we drove to Schreiber Beach, an attractive spot where we spent a good while exploring the shoreline, rocks, and a small stream gurgling into the lake. We came across a swarm of large yellow butterflies drinking from a patch of damp sand and took plenty of photographs before heading back to the car.

Driving further east along Highway 17 for a few more kilometres, we visited Aguasabon Falls and Gorge, a spectacular and thunderous cascade plunging into a narrow chasm. The falls are reached via a raised walkway, leading to a viewing platform set into the cliffside. The billowing spray from the cascade created a rainbow, which I hoped would appear in the photos I took.

Moving on to Terrace Bay, we climbed the lighthouse just off the highway, enjoying a fantastic view over this small lakeside township. After a brief poke around the local shops, we drove down to the beach, where the Aguasabon River flows into Lake Superior via yet another dramatic waterfall. We strolled from one end of the beach to the other before taking a forested trail up to the top of the falls for yet more photographs.

Returning to the Villa Bianca Inn, we rested for a while before driving west to a small hotel which had a restaurant, recommended to us by a local. However, as is often the case in Canada, many eateries close on Sundays and Mondays outside of peak season, this one included. With no other option, we returned and found ourselves dining at KFC once again.

As we waited for our order, I couldn’t help but notice a news headline on the TV: “Over 70% of Canadian men eat unhealthily.” I wasn’t surprised; on two days of the week, it seems they have little choice.

So, we dined on chicken and chips with a peach wheat ale in our motel room and watched TV. The Monday night Canadian way.