I wake up in a truly imperial bed, near me, a gorgeous woman. She is still sleeping. I can see huge tropical plants. Birds are singing outside.
My brain is still rebooting, I have flashes with information: who I am, what happened last night.

It started to rain, it was more like a drizzle, but strong enough to melt our hitchhiking sign to Antigonish. More the time was passing, more the sign was becoming invisible. I heard behind a voice. Someone stopped. We ran, we got in, and we got out. She saw where are we going, it wasn’t on her path, but she took us over the crossing of the highway, to be on the good way….

In the middle of nowhere, but right before the bridge which takes to the right to get on another highway. The cars drive so fast, there is no sign to slow. We change the place, I dance, I ran backward to have an eye contact, to make them feel guilty and to stop.

Emilie starts to reproach me about the road safety. I know she’s tired. My arm is tired. I propose to eat. The second I took the first bit, a car pulled over.
They were Hannah and Charlotte, less of 25, student of logistics for the army, and the other writer. All the time we laughed. Since we had no plan for the night, they invited to their place, actually to their parents. They are sisters! Big nice house.

They cooked a delicious Chinese dish. very spicy. Then the relation with Emilie was tested. We played a game where seeing a drawing you have to write 6-7 things that relate, and there are counted how many are similar with your.

We lost in front of two sisters who are very good friends and they know each other for 23 years, but in the first third we were ahead, and we won all the duels ( when on the same card both teams count the similarities). And their communication is so good that I hope that when they will be retired, they won’t live in the same area, because they will speak interrupting each other for each 5 words, but having the same idea.

When you travel, you might have some fantasies about the people you meet, but I would never imagine that I would end in the bed of their parents. We didn’t want, but they insisted…

Next morning, their dad appeared. Late enough, to be dressed, and Hanna moved stealthy our luggages.

I helped her father to change his tires, and we had a good chat.

 

Dan’s conquest…

Nice walk along the river with Charlotte

Charlotte, Hannah and Steven, Hannah’s boyfriend, took us to the beautiful beach near the house of their parents.

I read 3 short stories of Charlotte, and I liked them. She worked in a lot of environments to study different characters. She has impressive methods of getting inspiration, and of improving her style.

Nous nous réveillons dans un grand lit aux draps soyeux… mais où sommes-nous donc? Dans cette aventure, on perd assez vie la notion du temps et de l’espace…

Ah oui, hier après notre dernier ride d’auto-stop, nous avons passé la frontière assez tard, non sans quelques questions de la douane américaine pour arriver à Saint-Stephen, New Brunswick, Canada. Nous avons seulement trouvé un mot de la part de notre hôte – coachsurfer, Billy, et ce matin la maison est déjà vide. Il est censé revenir ce midi. C’est grand et propre, des dessins et de belles peintures à l’huile sont accrochés aux murs. Nous décidons de rester une nuit de plus pour au moins le rencontrer et échanger un peu sur ce que peut être la vie dans une ville frontalière entre le Canada et les USA…

Une petite balade dans Saint-Stephen nous fait découvrir la plus petite université du Canada – (moins de 150 étudiants par an pour un des premiers bachelor of liberal arts et un bachelor d’études internationales), un musée du chocolat, et beaucoup de maisons à vendre…

Il est 12h03, et on passe devant le Carman’s Diner, oh ben tiens qu’est ce qu’on pourrait bien faire?  Il y a réunion du Rotary International “every monday 12.10”, on irait bien y faire un petit tour, histoire de voir qu’est ce qu’il s’y raconte…?

Ces messieurs-dames nous accueillent gentiment et le doyen du club nous explique les projets d’un des plus anciens Rotary: présents dans le monde entier, ils envoient de l’argent, des biens et leur courage à tous les petits enfants d’Afrique, ils éradiquent les maladies et dernièrement ont donné 500$ pour la fête du Chocolat. Quoi? c’est quand même important la fête du Chocolat, Saint-Stephen est LA ville canadienne du chocolat… (je parle uniquement de ce Rotary-ci, je suppose qu’ils ne sont pas tous comme ça)

Quand nous rentrons “à la maison”, Billy et sa copine sont sur la terrasse, à siroter un petit verre: papoti-papota et on prend un verre, et on cuisine, et on papote, et on rigole, et on mange… Ambiance détendue, nous avons l’impression d’être de vieux amis, aucun problème pour eux que l’on reste une nuit de plus. Sa copine originaire de Nouvelle-Ecosse est aussi ergothérapeute :), elle vient d’emmenager avec Billy il y a un mois et trouver un emploi a été vraiment facile: en général, les gens de Saint-Stephen essayent plutôt de quitter la ville… Dan s’aperçoit qu’il possède un drone dernière génération, et c’est reparti jusque tard dans la soirée…

Le lendemain, il est vraiment temps de partir, nous avons contacté une ferme en Nouvelle-Ecosse, et ils nous attendent: le ferry de Saint-John à Digby est à midi, on va essayer d’arriver ce soir… Il pleut, mais d’après accuweather.com, il devrait y avoir une accalmie vers 9h: Billy nous pose à un “bon spot”: 5 min d’attente et Frank nous embarque. Il travaille en Alberta pour l’industrie du gaz naturel pendant 2 mois, puis rentre à la maison pendant les 2 mois suivants. Il était pêcheur avant, mais la vie devenait difficile, il a décidé de faire de l’argent pendant quelques années, puis retourner vivre ici au New Brunswick avec sa famille, retourner pêcher… Il doit s’arrêter 20 km avant Saint-John, mais finalement il ne fait pas très beau, dit-il et puis de toute façon, il n’a rien à faire aujourd’hui, il va nous amener jusqu’au ferry! Merci Frank!

Ce trajet aurait du nous coûter 120$ car de Saint-Stephen à Saint-John, il n’y a aucun moyen de transport public, et le moyen que nous avait proposé l’office de tourisme était de prendre un taxi. Hem hem…

La traversée en ferry dure 3 heures, mais on n’y voit pas grand chose, le temps est terriblement gris et le ciel est bas. Une fois à Digby, les histoires de transport en commun sont toujours les mêmes, on doit faire des détours, il y a des connexions qui n’existent pas etc… Pas moyen de trouver qqn sur le ferry qui pourrait nous amener près de la ferme. A la descente du bateau, nous courons vers la sortie du port pour montrer notre pouce: les voitures passent et personne ne s’arrête. Une femme promène son grand caniche, nous commençons à discuter avec Valerie et, hop, 5 min plus tard nous sommes dans sa voiture: le chemin paraît si court quand la conversation est intéressante, médecin à la retraite, elle joue de la harpe celtique… A peine arrivés au carrefour d’où part notre prochaine route, une autre voiture s’arrête juste à côté de la sienne, Dave part pour Bridgewater, notre exacte destination…

Rencontrer des locaux, partager sa route et ses intérêts, nous n’avons jamais attendu plus de 15 min, tout a été tellement facile, ça sert d’agiter son pouce dans cette région!

Contrasts break the monotony. Imagine travelling only in islands. After the third one probably we could end up in the same routine: in the morning eat fruits, install the hammock, eat fish at the lunch, go to the beach, drink cocktail in the evening listening the travel stories of other tourists on other same islands….

That’s why to go from Brussels directly to Montreal would be to eat poutine instead of Flagey frites ( if you know what I mean). Cuba was the perfect alternation.

So from New York, the city of finance, the city of western civilization, where can we go, still, being in the same area…..  a farm in the easternmost part of Canada. It’s so remote,  that there is no public transportation on some segments.

We arrive at the bus station in Boston at 9:00. I found out that with this bus we lose the connection in Bangor for Calais, to cross the border in St Stephen, where I arranged for the first time to stay over night by coach-surfing. I ask the guy next to me how is hitch hiking. He says that is near impossible, because Bangor is known as the capital of homeless people in US. And this guy looks that he knows what is he saying, because he looks strangely like a homeless. I think in my mind, ‘Oh great’, Emilie choose the cheaper bus, but on the other hand, we have to improvise. I ask the lady in front of me, whose mouth smells alcohol. She says something… an another guy takes part to the conversation and says, that the people in the area are very nice, and it will be probable easy to get a ride. He is Daniel, an artist who live in New York, but bought a farm near Bangor, in the middle of nowhere. He doesn’t like driving, so because his farm is pretty isolated, he built a hybrid tricycle, which has an electric engine and can be powered by gas as well.

 One of his famous sculptures: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZ-zeRCUicw

His painting technique: he creates a chemical scenario, in which diff are blended where he blends different chemical ingredients, he starts the reaction and lets the painting to evolve itself. He let us his address, phone number, in case of… In order to learn to draw, he told me that everything is in the connection eye-brain. To enhance this, I need to practice every day, focus on a simple object and draw the contour without looking at it, move the hand very slowly.

He took us with a cab to a good place to hitch-hike. We walked for 2 minutes, without, making any sign, a car stopped, and pick us up for 7 miles, to a road which goes directly to Calais. That’s Ron, ship captain. He went with me in a gas station, he asked for a cupboard to write properly the desired destination.

He gives us his phone number, in case of… His advice, when you hitchhike, you have to be in the area where the cars go very slowly, so they can stop easily.

After 5 minutes, Steven came. He is a anaplastic cancer survivor. 3 years ago, he was diagnosed in the 4th phase, the doctor said ‘no chance’. Only 7% can make 5 years. But he dropped the medication, he didn’t smoke or drink before, but after that he started: he got back to the normal life. He is an entrepreneur, and own his mechanical company.

Before, he was doing barbecues during the week, but in the last 20 years, little by little he got to work 50 hours per week. After 2008, he started to work 70 hours. Coffee, stress, amount of work caused the cancer. Now he works 50 hours. He comes from a poor family and wanted to succeed, to give a better life to his 3 children. He has a lot of field, and won a lot from stock market, by buying almost bankrupt american companies, and sell them after.

One piece of advice: don’t think about the world, focus on your life.

We had to walk another 3 miles to the border … Too much. So while walking, I made the sign: Mike took us, until the border.

He stopped right in front of the custom office. Then we continued our talk about ecology issues, about his business projects. He talked for more than one hour. And when I saw that it is already night, we started to walk to cross the bridge between the two countries. He came with the car in parallel, to give me his phone number, the American custom office was after his car. The custom officials stopped us, because for them looked very suspicious, that he hide us with his car, that they saw us talking for hours. As he is known to have a lot of land in the area, maybe we could have worked for him. So at 10 pm, me and Emilie we are invited to put our luggage in the custom office, we cannot touch any more our stuff. They asked us about needles. Yes, Emilie move her hand to show him. ‘Don’t move’, and the officer shows the gesture of a cocaine … No sir, we have needles for repairing cloths.

– Do you have any drug, marijuana ?

-No, nothing … Ah … Actually we have half of a Cuban cigar.

— Do you know that’s illegal ? … From where do you know this guy ?

– from 5 minutes in the car + the time that you have seen us talking

– does he waits for you after the border?

– no

– do you intend to work for him ?

– no … We want to work for a month in a farm in Nova Scotia (of course I haven’t said that, and for google and other services, it’s not work, it’s not even volunteer, it’s just to pretend that we are farmers, to put some cool photos on facebook)…

Finally, we pass the American border, at the Canadian one they are very kind. Actually too kind. I forgot to take a photo with the address, I knew where it is, but Emilie wanted to be sure. So I asked the custom officer, where is the street.

– I am from here, but I don’t know. Let me ask my boss

– no, don’t do it ! Now I remember, thank you…

We arrive, in the door there was a letter for us, where is our bedroom, where is the bathroom, that he (Billy) is leaving at 8am, but he hopes that we shall meet … Amazing.

Well, that’s all folks for today.