New Brunswick

Either we had bad luck, or... we had bad luck... A week of rain doesn't exactly help you appreciate the poorest region in Canada!
We get a bit tangled up managing our driving times. We're struggling to find the right rhythm with the kids' schoolwork.
Anyway, it's the beginning of the adventure, so we're learning to get organized.
Thank goodness KIFONS is really perfect. It's a pleasure to have a reliable rig that delivers every single time!

OK, let's be honest. I haven't read much about this on other travelers' blogs, but personally, I really asked myself a big question during that week from hell:
Why did I drag my whole family into this mess?
Do my kids really have to put up with this trip so far from their friends?
Our house in Lille was really comfortable...
(I can write these lines easily because, since then, the trip has been pure joy for everyone)

We miss our friends, we miss our families, we miss our France.

I think of Alexis and Virginie (the Claventure family) who, when they came over for dinner at our house in France before we left, told us that a trip like this isn't a vacation and that the first three months are tough. I confirm both points without hesitation!
New Brunswick was so-so.
With the forecast calling for a week below 59°F with nonstop rain, we finally decided not to stop on Prince Edward Island: ciao, Edouardo, and your potatoes (the island is also famous for growing spuds)!

Bay of Fundy - Hopewell Rocks

The Bay of Fundy has the highest tides in the world. They rise 46 feet in 6 hours (see the great diagram Maggy drew to explain it to the kids).

We spend the night of June 24 at a private campground at the entrance to the Hopewell site.
It's Alice's chance to discover the "mosquito armies" that come in squadrons to attack us!
Out come the pyrethrum and the ultra-professional bug lotions: we Guyots are smart, we've equipped ourselves with a real anti-aircraft battery. Tough luck — we still must not have the right products, because once again we get eaten alive!

The next day, we discover Hopewell Rocks. A beautiful site (full of tourists) and full of... mud!
The Hopewell Rocks are a group of huge rocks topped with trees and hollowed out at the base by centuries of tidal erosion.
Luckily, like good parents, we've equipped the little ones with rubber boots. Everything goes great for our adventurers, right up until said boots get stuck in the mud!
And then we get: "Mom, I told you I didn't want to come here, plus it's ugly, there's mud everywhere, I don't care about your flowerpot rocks, whatever, I'm not walking anymore..."

Calm down. Stay zen. Enjoy the scenery. Calm down. Stay zen. Enjoy the scenery.

Luckily, a ranger carrying out a bird rescue manages to create a diversion, and Super Henri gets busy washing all the boots once we're back on dry ground.

A nice picnic near a playground (phew) in Hopewell park, then we hit the road again toward Fundy National Park.

We spend our first and last night in the park in the rain!
We have to rig up rain tarps on KIFONS's awning... The forecast calls for more rain for several days.
It's a real shame to have to leave, but let's go! We head for Shediac, the promised lobster paradise — according to our French guidebook, the Guide du Routard!

Moncton - Shediac - Bouctouche

Shediac: lobster paradise, according to the Guide du Routard!
Nope, not at all! We arrive just 2 days before a festival where lobsters are supposedly eaten in astronomical quantities.
Canadians apparently throw away the claws without eating them!
We picture Lille's giant Braderie street fair, where mussels are eaten by the ton, only with lobsters instead!

The reality is that Shediac is empty, dead and gray under the rain that just won't stop!
Impossible to find a nice place to camp. The campgrounds are trailer parks, with trailers packed right next to each other (really packed). No way we're parking somewhere like that!
Decision made. We push on to Bouctouche and end up stopping at Serge Maury's, THE wine grower of New Brunswick (http://www.fermemaury.com/).

Talking with Serge, we learn that New Brunswick is an economically devastated province (so that explains all those for-sale signs — we had the impression EVERYTHING was for sale).
People here make a living from lobster fishing; it's seasonal work, 14 weeks a year, and unemployment the rest of the time.
Not much life, few villages, few stores, and unfortunately... lots of rain!

The Internet has done a lot of damage here. The paper pulp industry, once very prosperous in the region, has been laying people off left and right for about ten years.

So even though the kids play a lot with Serge's chickens, our spirits are a bit low.
Apparently there isn't much to see in NB apart from an Acadian village. So off we go in that direction.
A good day in pouring rain. The village reconstructions are well done, and the costumed staff working in period dress are real pros.
The village shows how Acadian life, homes and activities evolved from 1750 to 1950.
We have a very good lunch of Acadian dishes at the village restaurant: no doubt about it, French food culture goes way back! The chicken in sauce and the caramel pudding are more than welcome in this cold and driving rain.
Leaving the village at the end of the day: mosquito attack. In the photo, you'll discover the new protection technique invented by Alexandre, using his orange K-Way rain jacket (we're from northern France, after all!)

Back on the road, we make a very nice stop in Grande-Anse, in the parking lot of a little harbor where a "cantine" (a roadside eatery, like a souped-up fry shack) is the hub of village life.
We feast on lobster and shrimp poutine, the girls on super fresh fish and chips, and Alex on a good grilled chicken burger — a little sunshine, the harbor, the sea, and our spirits are back up!
The owner of the restaurant gives the kids a red balloon that says "Souvenir de Grande-Anse - NB"!
We join the fishermen as they wrap up the last day of the lobster season.

NB is done — on to the Gaspé Peninsula!