Tom Foolery had entered New Brunswick from Maine during the day and had intentions of spending the night in Moncton that evening. Being summer, and the peak tourist season, Mr. Foolery was in for some learning lessons about the Canadian people and their travel habits. Pulling into a town of 65,000 people at 10PM with no reservations should have been no problem for securing a motel room. Not this night. It seems Mr. Foolery neglected to take into account that the weekend picked by him coincided with the country’s Little League National Tournament. At the time there were 29 million people in Canada and 28 million converged on Moncton that night. This error caused Tom to drive 178 kilometers to get to Truro, Nova Scotia, and check into a room at 2AM. Learning curves are always uphill. In the morning, Tommy drove to Halifax and then due west to the end of the peninsula at Yarmouth and back around the north side. The entire trip was similar to a rat in a maze. With the paved highway surrounded on both sides with stunted shrub trees due to the ocean winds, the 8-hour scenery consisted of a black top canyon fenced in by 15′ bushes. Tom was happy to bed down in Caribou, Nova Scotia with a ferry trip to Prince Edward’s Island tomorrow. Do to poor weather and planning, there is nothing to see here, folks. Move along. An early morning departure on a car ferry and a clearing sky gave a promise of better day. Prince Edward Island is a giant Arboretum that is 280 kilometers long, full of red soil and a competition between neighbors of who can grow the best gardens. The English win, spades down. After most of the day viewing colors galore, Tom said goodbye to the Island by driving off of it on the longest bridge in Canada: the 13-kilometer-long Confederation Bridge. As his vehicle set its 4 tires back into New Brunswick, it was time to find another motel and to face the day tomorrow by penetrating into the land of the Frenchies, more commonly known as Quebec, Canada. 

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