Saturday 20 June 2026--Away from St Andrews then, headed for Grand Manan. I have enough time for a side trip to St Stephen. I forgot to pack sweatpants, and have been looking for a pair the whole trip; can't lounge properly without sweatpants. Giant Tiger, a huge discount store, has what I need, at a very reasonable price. I browse a bit at Canadian Tire, too, not really looking for anything. The auto, hardware, housewares, and sporting goods chain is as much a Canadian institution as Tim Horton's.

Arrive at Blacks Harbour in a drizzle, in plenty of time to snooze a bit in the ferry queue. The sky clears on the crossing, and I take in the view of passing islands from the sun deck. Arrive at North Head and drive the twenty minutes down to Seal Cove, where I check in at Tides Inn & Social. I'm staying on Grand Manan five nights, and wanted to stay at the same Vrbo Ron and I did last year; but it was only available the last three nights, so I have two nights at the Tides. The room is acceptable, if not exceptional.

Walk up to Grand Manan Brewing Company in the local golf course clubhouse for a pint, then back to the Tides for dinner. The bartender pours me a can of beer--the taps are off tonight, for some reason--and shows me to a seat on the deck, out over the water. It's a very nice evening. Neither of the two waitresses seems to notice my arrival, but I don't mind much; I'm busy poking at my phone, nursing my beer. I might try to get the attention of one, but after a while, I am curious to see how long it will take them to realize that I am unattended. Nearly an hour, in fact...Molly is profusely apologetic, and says my dinner will be comped, which I certainly didn't expect. The menu is disappointingly limited--there's a burger, a bacon and blue cheese burger, a chicken burger, and fish and chips. I opt for the bacon and blue. Do I want an appetizer? Why not, bacon-wrapped scallops. I'm about to consume more bacon in one sitting than I've eaten in the past three or four years. Molly brings me another beer. True to her word, I am charged for none of it. I want to leave her a generous tip, but I have no cash, and there's no bill to add it to. I resolve to return sometime in the next few days to take care of that.

I go for a stroll after dinner, out through the smoke sheds and onto Seal Cove's beach, the nicest on the island. We are approaching the summer solstice, and sunset is the latest it will be all year, at 9:16.

Later, in my room, the unpaid-for bacon and blue burger registers its protest. Gastric distress has been a theme on and off throughout the trip.