Bich's Canadian adventures: Sunday

Sunday morning dawned beautiful and bright. We meant to be up earlier, but ... nah, we slept in. I had taken the top bunk, Rich the bottom. For a place to just sleep and shower, our hostel couldn't be beat. (I know! Me in a hostel!) It was simple, clean, full of all kinds of different people. There was even a couple in their 60s with a couple of teenagers. In fact, the night before, we hit a great pub across the street and met a guy who had driven from British Columbia (thousands of miles) to go to school at Dalhousie, didn't have his apartment lined up yet and was staying at the hostel. We bought him a pint. And he ended up talking to another guy we'd struck up a conversation with, and it turned out that they were both huge into biking. They exchanged emails and talked about a biking event being held in the city the next day.

We kept most of our stuff in the car, which we had parked across the street -- how convenient, we got the last spot -- and we got up the next day and walked across to our suitcases in our pajamas.

We shared a room with four other people. And no, we didn't speak.

The locker where we kept our stuff.

We then hit the amazing Halifax Seaport Farmers' Market. It was hyooooge. And full of delicious stuff. We grabbed brunch and an outside table.

And then we hit the road.

When we arrived at the airport the day before, the Hertz attendant cheerily informed us that they'd given us an upgrade from the mid-size SUV I'd ordered knowing we'd be on some rough terrain with a fair amount of gear. But my heart sank: I didn't want anything bigger, because 1) I hate big SUVs and 2) I knew the gas would kill us. Americans should shut up about gas prices, because we have no idea how good we have it. (They're insane in Europe, and nearly as insane in Canada.)

They gave us a Lincoln Navigator. Ugh.

Crossing the Macdonald Bridge to Dartmouth,
on our way north out of the city

Wind farm! We saw lots of these.

Rich eventually had to do a fantasy football draft over the phone, so I took the wheel for our three-hour ride to the north shore of Prince Edward Island. Just before we crossed over to PEI, we came across this amazing sign (which, like the vast majority of signs in the area, were also in French), and I came to a screeching halt:

MOOSE CROSSING!

The eight-mile Confederation Bridge connecting
Prince Edward Island with, technically, New Brunswick

"Jesus, take the wheel ...
because this thing is stupid-large and it scares me."

After a beautiful drive through the nearly unspoiled countryside of Prince Edward Island, we reached the Green Gables Shore and the Prince Edward Island National Park's Cavendish beach campground, and got to work setting up a tent in very windy conditions.

Yes, we fought.

But we got the tent up. Rich went for a run, and I headed into "town" to grab some camping nibbles and wine for the night. It was a little difficult to stay mad with this view.

We brought towels.

Five feet from our tent. Seriously.

I had made dinner reservations in nearby North Rustico, and on our way out of the campground, we met Mr. Fox. He looked at us and promptly fell asleep.

We headed to The Pearl Cafe. Zagat called it PEI's best restaurant. It did not disappoint.

Lawn art?

How adorable is this place.

Sparkling and a beer as we peruse the menu.

The super-cozy dining room

The view from our table.

Amuse bouche from the chef -- the salmon was fresh, the apple
was delish, but Rich found the blini a little too dry. I dug it.

Vermouth butter-braised Pickle Point oysters with tapenade

Fresh mushroom soup with nasturtium garnish.
What made it interesting was just how earthy and fresh it was.
Needed a little more seasoning, but it was just a fascinating dish.

Biscuits for our soup

PORK BELLY.

More specifically, crab cake with
slow-roasted PORK BELLY and smoked oyster aioli.

This was unlawfully good.

Rich's seared scallop and lobster with Tobiko roe, served
with warm new potato salad in Pernod dressing with
summer vegetables and herb vinaigrette. Some of those vegetables
included organic carrots, which were purple and delish.

Brooke's goat cheese risotto with kale chips,
pickled baby beets, roasted peanuts and honey

Oh, no ...

... we didn't like it at all.

We absolutely adored the staff. Maxine, the owner, took great care of us, and was very sweet and down-to-earth -- but very funny. We learned later she had a potty mouth, which I found delightful.

We eschewed dessert because we were absolutely stuffed, but we asked if we could have a glass of port and take it out to the deck. They gladly obliged; we were one of the last few people in the restaurant, but they didn't rush us at all. We enjoyed the strong breezes, the lights on the deck, the wide expanse of land. Maxine came out to chat with us, tell us more about The Pearl, and generally be a great hostess. We met the chef and thanked him for a fantastic meal, and thanked the staff for taking such good care of us.

We headed back to the campground, hoping the tent hadn't blown away (it didn't), grabbed our bottle of Yellow Tail (the best the island had, ha) and our plastic cups, and headed to the beach in the moonlight. The campground was utterly quiet except for the sound of crashing waves.

We fell asleep in our tent, cozy in our sleeping bags, listening to Wilco from Rich's iPhone.