Pointe des Monts

Pointe des Monts is a 19th century lighthouse (1830) located about 11 KM off the main road, now operated as a museum/inn/restaurant. Despite the rain it is magnificent – sitting on a little rock outcropping just offshore reached by a 200 foot wooden bridge. The accommodations are rustic but the setting and atmosphere are truly unique. The table d’hotel meal I just enjoyed included a delicious fish chowder, local lobster/snowcrab plate, rice pilaf with shrimp, dessert, etc – sort of a “death by seafood” kinda thing.

Oh, did I mention, Mr. Landry’s (innkeeper in Natashquan) father was the last lighthouse keeper at Pointe des Monts, and instrumental in its preservation.

Ok I am sleepy. Good night. Tomorrow it is on to St Simeon to meet the ferry to the south shore (Riviere du Loup) – then a quick swing down to Moosehead Lake, ME, then over the White Mts, then the Green Mts to be home Sunday night.

Day 6

I am awake by 5:30 AM and immediately look out the narrow old window to see what the weather looks like. It looks terrible. Thick fog. No, wait, that is just the condensation on the storm window. I get out of bed and walk across the hall to another room (I am the only overnight guest), which has a clear view out the window. Reality is not much better – thick, dark low clouds – light rain. I try to go back to sleep, and failing at that, I get dressed and go for a walk in the drizzle. It is hauntingly beautiful here. Several flocks of ducks mess around off the rocks – eiders I think. The sea is calm, the shoreline is classic north coast boulders and pine trees. There are a few small purple blue irises in bloom around the rocks, and on closer inspection, I realize that the place is covered with them. This will make a pretty wild scene in about a week or so. I take some more photos, but without enthusiasm. I am getting my first real dose of “I’d rather be home” feelings. I suppose I would feel differently if the sun were shining in a fresh breeze, but it’s not and I have another 250 miles to ride today. I scan the western sky for some reason to be optimistic about the weather. I don’t see one. Don’t get me wrong – motorcycling is wonderful, but it’s definitely better without the rain.

I reflect on the past evening and the meal. It was OK but the best part quite frankly was the pictures of the food that the lady showed me when I showed up. I am not too optimistic about breakfast. After walking across the bridge to check the bike and maybe find coffee, I return to shower, etc. When I go back downstairs at 7:30 another woman is there and indicates that breakfast is ready. I enter the dining room. There, on the corner table, almost dominating the room, is a phalanx of four giant cartons of Kellogg cereal, along with some 2% milk and half gallon glass bottles of apple juice and the old style orange juice “from concentrate”. My worst fears are confirmed. At my table is a basket of “muffins” in plastic wrappers. The kind that have preservatives as the lead item on the ingredient line. The lady comes over and asks me, as if it is some big deal, “would you like toast?”. A yes from me brings a follow up, “white or brown?” Her tone is full of expectation that I will be delighted that they are able to provide such culinary extravagances. I am not exaggerating, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that a few minutes later she emerged from the kitchen carrying a big dinner plate on which were carefully placed two pieces of brown toast. They are trying, but where is Mr. Landry and those marvelous breakfasts of the last few days?

In fairness, it is difficult to run an isolated small inn, especially at the beginning of the season. It seems that I will be the first guest of the year to open one of the cereal boxes.

The night's accomodation cost me $120 including the two meals. Thinking about it, about $40 of that is going for the unique “experience” of spending the night in this place. It’s probably worth it – and the mattress was good.

After breakfast, I go outside and check the sky again. Well, maybe it’s getting a little brighter in the west. Maybe.

I take the tour of the lighthouse museum. It is pretty interesting and you get to climb to the top. I am the only person there.