Columnists
It’s an ugly sight, folks
The good news is it’s still summer, and the weather is finally getting with the program. The bad news is it’s actually half past summer, if you go by the school calendar. For those of you who live in the County, if you haven’t needed to use the highways and byways for much more than a quick grocery shop, count yourself amongst the lucky few. County roads are clogged like arteries in need of an emergency bypass. As all of you know, the County has been a tourist destination for many, many decades. However, this year seems to be the best, or the worst, depending upon which side of the road you happen to be standing. LOML and I have had an unwritten agreement to leave the beaches and parks to the visitors from the two-four weekend until half-past September. It’s a long stretch, but it keeps us from becoming overly cranky about sharing. Sharing the road. Sharing the beach. Sharing the restaurants. Sharing the retail stores. Sharing just about everything. Since the last of our children flew the coop, we haven’t seen the point in sweltering at the water’s edge with several thousand complete strangers who just happen to be here for a good time. LOML and I are here for a long time, and we’ve decided to just make the most of what’s in our own yard and within walking distance of our home, for the most part. Venturing out only when the last bag of chips is gone or the last bottle of beer is consumed. The truth is, neither of us is a fan of misguided beach sand. I prefer to enjoy my salads and and wear swimsuit without added grit. When January slides into place I don’t want to look down at my floor mats of the Rollscan- hardly and see the ghosts of beaches long ago visited.
Funny thing is, as I sit on the side porch writing this week’s contribution, I can hear the roar of traffic from Main Street, the screech of brakes and the honking of horns. And I can clearly hear the grumbling of the guests staying in the Airbnb across the street. Mama and Papa Grumbler are anxiously debating the timing of their visit to Sandbanks with their listless children. From what I can gather, their timing hadn’t been great on Saturday. It seems they were among the hundreds left in a queue outside the park gates hoping for a moment on the beach. The children aren’t holding back with their disgust of all things that might spoil their weekend away from the city. They want the beach and they want it now. That, apparently, is why they spent hours in the back of the “crummy car getting to this dump of a town”. Timing is everything, especially in the summer, when it comes to staking out a spot in the sun at any of the parks in the County. But from what I’ve just read on social media, leaving before noon isn’t going to make this day any better than yesterday was for those folks in their crummy car. I sort of hope they didn’t spend too many hours in their vehicle getting to La La Land only to spend hours sweating, swearing and waiting to get into the park. And, so it is with summer in beach country.
As a destination, Prince Edward County has done an amazing job of selling itself as the place to be when you punch out of your nine-to-five. We’ve got everything everyone wants after a three- or four-hour drive from the city. We’ve got the food, the drinks, the ice creams, the farm stands and the bucolic vistas. Heck, just to make everyone feel at home, we’ve got the traffic, the road rage, the crowds and everything you need for the perfect meltdown. To locals and County folks, it’s an ugly sight—but it’s all part of our food chain.
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