No bad days… except for yesterday

 Haha… it’s funny now. But it sure wasn’t when we were in it!  

Yesterday we had a tour that all of us were looking forward to.  We are currently in the Bras D’or region on the island of Cape Breton. Located here is the Cabot Trail which is a scenic 185 mile loop on the northern top of the island.  It is supposed to be one of the most scenic drives in the world and included the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. Our tour was a guided motorcoach trip around the entire Cabot trail.  We boarded our coach at 7:45 am and met our tour guide, Fred.  Fred is a local, born and bred on Cape Breton. So far so good.  He explained a bit about where we were going and a bit of history about John Cabot, the trail’s namesake.  Fred talked to us about a variety of things related to the area and interspersed that with personal stories.  

Our first stop was in a tiny town that had a small museum primarily devoted to rug hooking and the woman who became very famous for hooking peoples faces… she had done all the US presidents, British prime ministers, astronauts, etc.  I was quite skeptical of any interest I might have in this, but after our Acadian tour guide, a self described ’hooker,’ explained the process in her very thick French accent, I had a new appreciation.  In fact everyone did!  Even Steve!  The visit was very short, and although I wanted to buy a small kit myself as well as an Acadian flag (Steve has Acadian ancestry), we were hustled out of there quickly so that we could visit our next stop, a church, which happened to be closed so we couldn’t go in anyway.  

A closeup of the artists work.  She hand-dyed all the wool for all the shading and detail

An example of her realistic facial rug hooking

One of her larger pieces

Detail of the raised part of the large rug pictured above

I was a little annoyed that our tour guide didn’t know the church was closed since I had wanted to stay a bit longer at the museum, and even more annoyed that we waited in a gravel parking lot before continuing on so that we would stay on schedule.  We continued driving and Fred kept talking.  I started to realize he was talking about himself and his family as much or more than he was talking about we were supposed to be seeing, which at this point was mostly trees.  I figured the coastal views were coming.  We did reach the coastal part of the drive and did stop at a ‘look off’ as it is called here.  We took a few pics and were off.  

By now a few hours had gone by and we stopped for lunch at a motel/restaurant.  We had all given our wagon masters lunch orders a week ago (not knowing when or where the lunch would happen) and so when we arrived at the restaurant, the servers came out of the kitchen yelling what was on the plates and we were supposed to raise our hands when we heard our order.  Chaos ensued when it became clear that most people did not remember what they’d ordered, and our wagon masters forgot to bring the spreadsheet they’d made with everyone’s orders on it.  The servers kept coming with more plates, and oh brother was it a mess.  It didn’t help that the lunch wasn’t even good.  I left almost my entire fish and chips on the plate.  

We were off again, and Fred kept talking, and talking, and talking.  We were supposed to stop at the Aspy fault, but evidently neither Fred nor the driver knew where it was.  We drove down a side road and ended up turning around.  We were also supposed to stop at the Keltic Lodge, but it turns out that was closed, too.  Seems like Fred should have known.  In the meantime, Fred kept talking.  By this time, we were all getting tired of hearing about his neighbors, his kids’ cousins and what their plans were for the day, his wife’s bike ride, etc.  

I mentioned a national park earlier, and the road we were on passed through it… and out of it.  Fred did point out the sign saying we were in it and again he pointed out the sign saying we were leaving.  We did not stop in the park, did not go to the visitors center (which we did pass) and he didn’t talk about it at all.  

At this point we had been on the bus about 6 hours and everyone was losing their patience.  Fred was oblivious and continued talking about people he knew, shared a bit of music, talked about a local guy who now lives and writes music in Nashville, and passed around an autograph by Kris Kristopherson.  I have no idea why - Kris Kristopherson never lived here.  

We were supposed to stop at a fish processing plant where people could get fresh crab to take back to the RVs.  When our wagon masters asked if anyone wanted to stop, there was a unanimous’NO!’ Everyone just wanted the tour to be over.  We didn’t see much, some things were closed or couldn’t be found, and then there was Fred… happily talking and talking and talking…  Finally our wagon masters got the clue and said we would just head back to the campground.  It was only and hour and 45 minutes away!!  OMG… and Fred kept talking.  

The general consensus of the tour… 

We FINALLY made it back to the campground about 4:45.  Our guides had made dinner reservations for us as a goodbye to three couples leaving the tour, and the 6 new couples who have joined.  Steve and I decided to head out early so we could get a beer and decompress before dinner.  There was some confusion as to where dinner was, and as a result, Steve and I ended up about 20 minutes away.  Since we had left early, we had time to get to the correct location, which continued to be confusing.  When we arrived, most of our group was in the bar and having drinks, so we joined them.  It was then that we heard that the restaurant had no knowledge of our reservation and couldn’t just accommodate 45 people like that.  Turns out, our wagon masters had not double-checked our reservations and we actually were supposed to be where Steve and I were in the first place!  So, back in our truck and another 20 minutes later, we found the restaurant.  We were all late because of the mixup.  Steve and I ordered cocktails, which were terrible, and waited on the lobster we had ordered.  They were served stone-cold and overcooked  along with cold butter.  We were really disappointed.  We ended up skipping dessert - I had had my fill of disappointment and couldn’t handle another potential one - and just headed back to our R.V.  A few others did the same thing.  Our wagon masters apologized over and over for the tour and dinner mix-ups.  We have all laughed about it since, but sheesh!  Hopefully no more days like this one! 

I couldn’t figure out how to escape the tour bus… the directions were in French! 😫