Right now, as I type, there are insane tourists laughing at photos of crabs.  I am not asking questions; but I am making assumptions.  Michele, my partner-in-crime, has asked that I “mention the cackling one.” Oh yes.  She doth cackle loudly about the crabs.

The week has been whizzing with the speed of a charter bus.  This is at the same time maddeningly slow and unfortunately quick.  It is slow when you are on the bus and 40 octogenarians are complaining about being both simultaneously hot AND cold at the same time, leaving those of us still only in our third decade on Earth to suffer their volatile mood swings (or hot flashes).  Heidi, our long-suffering tour guide, runs up and down the isles trying to please a few, succeeding only in proving that perhaps she should seek work in another industry.  She tries and is very nice.

“She doesn’t try,” said Michele.

Well, okay.  I was being diplomatic.  Let’s move on.

In terms of the trip, I am joyously romping through Canada taking photos of everything.  Michele, on the other hand, has decided to befriend the service industry of the nation, discovering soul mates in Murry the inn-keeper and Gordon the bus driver.  I alternate between shyness and misanthropy, emerging only occasionally to convince people my pictures are better than Michele’s.  It’s good she’s a long or I would have remained in Halifax, curled into the fetal position, weeping for the sovereign nation of my birth. 

Canada is beautiful, even on it’s grayest days (of which today would qualify).  And since we are on a bus with 44 other people riding through a land greatly unfettered by industry and urban sprawl, it really is amazing to visit.  Amazing and weird, as any place is when seen by bus.  For example, take this scene that unfolded this afternoon:

“Michele!  Mom Shin [My friend’s mother-in-law, also on the trip, long story]!  You have to go check out the left stall in the woman’s bathroom!  Seriously, there is a imprint of Jesus in a hole on the floor.”

*Silence*

“No, I mean it.” I was disturbed by their lack of credulity. 

Later, after lunch, in the left stall of the woman’s bathroom:

Mom Shin:  “Oh, wow!  It does look like him.  And three other faces!”

Michele:  “I don’t see it.  I don’t see it.  Oh wait!  I see it!  Those other three are the disciples.”

Random Woman (to me):  “You look just like Joey Lawrence.:

Me:  “What?  You mean the guy from Blossom?  Is it my outfit?”

“No!  Your face.  hahahahahahaha Sorry.  I’m still drunk from last night.”

Me, to Michele, now outside:  “Do you think I look like Joey Lawrence?”

“No.  Actually I’ve always thought you looked like Edwin McCain.”

“What?  The singer?”

We then got back on the bus and the discussion died.  Because what happens in Pictou stays in Pictou.

Anyway, the especially bored can check out the latest installment of Theologians Gone Canadian at the links below.  Worthy of note is the old fisherman named Emard Court who, in addition to being photographed by me, was also featured on the cover of the Land’s End catalog, as well as many other souvenir items in the PEI area.  Truly, he embodies a man who has worked on these proud shores.

Photos!
More Photos!
These are cool!
I will end in exclamation points so you will look at them!