More correctly, the name of the little piece of France off the east coast of Canada is St Pierre et Miquelon. This tiny place appeared out of the fog this morning. We had been woken by the fog horn sounding a lonely call in the mist and half light of morning. After cancelling our organised tour, we took off on the path into the town on our own. Only a few meters away, the ship had disappeared in the fog. A tiny geography break – we are just beneath the Gulf of Labrador, the warm currents coming up from the south and the cooler water from the north a meeting, fogs are a huge feature for much of the year.
. Only 6000 people live here – speak French, use euros, a little piece of France. So we practiced our french again, replied to the usual greetings appropriately (I hope), and explored. I have some French blood, but I have to be honest and ask why they stop here. A pleasant enough little fishing town, with a big police station, and hilly streets, colourful weatherboard houses but little else we could see. I did smile over the cars, so many seem to drive (rather erratically, like all French drivers), those wonderful little Renault vans used in the Pink Panther movies. I expected to see Inspector Cleuseaut any moment.
We move on to Canada again tomorrow, Sydney and then Halifax (for Anne of Green Gable fans, a little highlight) so only a couple more days of the sea life. (The internet is still far too slow to get photos onto the blog, so will work on them in a day or so)
More soon
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