Friday 5 June 2026--I drive across the Westmorland Street bridge this morning, then head downriver on route 105, a favorite route since my bus-driving days. Pick up the TransCanada Highway and circle around Moncton, passing by the famous Magnetic Hill, a frequent stop on bus tours. Take route 15 past Shediac and the Acadian shore, then turn onto route 955, which clings to the coast on the way to the Confederation Bridge. Loella's Country Market in Cadman Corner looks like it would be worth a stop; likewise Allen's Marketplace in Murray Corner, where I could perhaps inquire about family connections. I pass by both and stop instead at the Cape Jourimain Nature Centre, at the foot of the bridge.

It's not clear to me how long Jourimain and Trenholme Islands have been connected to the mainland. They were separated from shore by only a few hundred yards of shallow water in the first place. I've had the impression that they were linked by roadworks begun in the 1960s, part of an aborted crossing project, but information about the Cape Jourimain Lighthouse at Lighthouse Friends suggests there was a road at least as far back as 1869, when the lighthouse was built. Possibly the sandbars on the western side were there all along. Whatever the case, silting caused by the roadworks has enhanced Cape Jourimain's utility as a staging area for migrating waterfowl, leading to the creation of the Cape Jourimain National Wildlife Area.

The lookout tower outside the Centre's exhibition hall affords a view across the Northumberland Strait to Prince Edward Island, and along the shore. An interpretive sign at the top indicates the former location of the Allen Hotel, which I gather was of a similar vintage to the lighthouse. The Allens were apparently responsible for the operation of the mail boat to PEI; there are tales of winter misadventure on the frozen strait. The sign says there is more information about the hotel in the hall, but it's not yet open for the season. The trail to the light, which I gave a pass on a rainy day in 2012, is open, in fact the main reason I've stopped. Signs near the light tell how it was moved back three times from the eroding shore. There is more interpretation inside the light, which was decommissioned when the bridge was built and is now maintained by the Nature Centre; but it's not open yet, either.

Up on the bridge I go, seven miles across to PEI. I divert from the highway onto routes 10 and 116, closer to the shore, to see a little scenery and pass through the village of Victoria. Rejoin the main road, which now follows a bypass around the town of Cornwall, but hits a bottleneck at the North River Causeway, bookended by busy roundabouts. I'm suddenly confronted with Charlottetown's urban sprawl, commercial development enabled by the opening of the bridge almost thirty years ago. There are hotels and strip malls and restaurants and auto dealers. It's a bit of a shock...when I was here last, University Avenue was just beginning to sprout shopping centers. Just down North River Road, which used to be the sneaky back way into town, there's now a Home Depot and a Walmart Supercentre, two of a gaggle of large chain stores that would never have considered PEI a viable market before the bridge. I've arrived late in the day and find myself caught in the afternoon rush, fortunately moving opposite the general flow. There was no afternoon rush in the sleepy Charlottetown I first visited decades ago, or hardly any.

I find my guesthouse on the edge of downtown. As with many such lodgings these days, check-in is contactless, which is to say there is no staff onsite. After puzzling about the foyer for a bit, I realize I must have been sent instructions sometime today. Cross the street to the Quality Inn, where the young woman at the desk is kind enough to give me the wifi password so I can check my email. Now armed with a lock box combination, I find my key and go up to my room. This is as reasonable a budget accommodation as I could find; hotel prices are not as high as in Halifax, say, but they have soared in the past few years, as they have everywhere else. My room is short of electrical outlets, and hot water takes about a week to come up from wherever the heater is; but I have a small fridge and a toaster, so I'm happy enough. A parking space on the property is bonus--that can't be taken for granted here in town.

Off I go in search of dinner. Slaymaker & Nichols Gastro House, two blocks away, looked interesting when I was researching. It's nearly empty when I walk in and plop down at the bar, but I'm asked if I have a reservation, and told the place is booked solid. Okay, be that way. Head down Queen Street and turn onto Victoria Row, a pedestrianized street full of restaurants. John Brown Richmond Street Grille looks as good as any. And so it is. I have a seafood pasta dish and a couple of beers, and retire relatively early.