One of the good things about a road trip is that if you’re unhappy in one place, you know you’re moving on. And conversely, if you really love someplace, you also know you’re sadly moving on. You trade the plastic smell of identical motels for the luxury of a well-furnished room in a Victorian B and B; you exchange long scenic walks through breathtaking scenery for long tedious drives on horrific roads; dinners in city top spots become pizza in the room and, occasionally, an overindulgence in historical sites becomes a relaxing day ending with a bottle of wine, fresh fish and a man with a guitar.
We’ve tried to take it easy today, did a bit of touring of this immense rural island set on Lake Huron, got a taste of the First Nations here as native Americans are called, and now look forward to returning to restaurant nirvana. Last night, we walked down to the harbor to a place called ‘Buoy’s’ We sat in the marina restaurant, a bottle of highly quaffable wine by our side, watched the sun go down, enjoyed a cooked-to-order meal of fresh fish, and listened to the melodious voice of some guy with a guitar singing Leonard Cohen and
Elton John. In the end, we closed the place down.