“Sun., Aug. 26. Lovely day at PB, coffee at The Pier by 8:30”
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CHAPTER SIX - Sunday, Sunday (PT 1)
Sleep came easy at night in PB. Long bike rides, hours in the sun, breathing fresh air and bobbing (repeating whenever desired) in Lake Erie certainly helped.
Meals came easy too whenever I cooked at the campsite. With my tiny but very handy propane stove (Pocket Rocket) I heated up tins of stew or spaghetti in a flash and made toast in less than 120 seconds. And though I could boil water for coffee without walking a step from my picnic table, I preferred to visit one of three diners most mornings - after a shower and shave - in order to stretch my short legs, wake up slowly and answer the pressing question, “What’s going on this morning in this wee lakeside retreat?”
Usually the answer was, “Not much, but there’s coffee on.” And that was perfect as far as I was concerned.
Sunday, my last full day to relax, was a significant treat. I sipped two large coffees, $1.75 for the first one and 85 cents for the refill. According to my photos I was within sight of the lake, and my notes describe a leisurely pace.
For example, while sitting and sipping I watched “gulls lined up like sailors on the beach and cormorants fly west in small to large groups.” I bicycled “back to campsite by 10-ish for toast and porridge” and was back “@ beach by 11:00 to read D-Day by A. Beevor.”
[“Gulls lined up like sailors on the beach...”]
“Getting into the last few chapters.” Sitting in the shade. Snapping a cap. Feeling a breeze upon my face. ‘A leisurely pace’ is right, though that day I read several serious chapters about D-Day, 1944 and my mood was surely affected by details about the liberation of France.
I read the following: As the remains of the German Seventh Army pulled back across the River Orne, the British VIII and XXX Corps advanced rapidly west, liberating one town after another. ‘We have had a warm welcome all along the route,’ wrote a British officer, ‘although quite a number of the people still seem dazed and bewildered. The very young do not know what is going on. I saw one little boy proudly giving the Nazi salute as though it were the correct greeting and others looking at their mothers to see if it was right to wave.’ (page 464, D-Day: The Battle for Normandy)
[“8:30 a.m. The view from my chair at The Pier diner”]
I had a hard time putting the book down on Sunday and finished the book later in the evening at another table, at another diner.
Please join me soon for more details about the trip to PB.
[Photos by G.Harrison]
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Please click here to read CHAPTER FIVE of Discovering the World in One Pair of Pants
Please click here for more PHOTOS FROM ALONG THE WAY while at Port Bruce
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