Saturday 24th August
We all met for breakfast about 9. Breakfast is not one of their best meals at the Mount Royal: cereal, sausages, toast and coffee cost 60 cents. After breakfast we wandered around the town and did shopping and then made plans for our stay. I had quite decided that I wanted to get up into some rough mountainous country with log huts and stretches of water around. So I approached Miss Canning of the “Ask Mr. Foster” service. She was a hoot. She put through about six phone calls in as many minutes.
Anyway, four of us, Miss Morgan, Miss Moon, Mrs Mills and myself (hereafter known as Nesta, M and Pat) fixed up for a trip to St. Donat in the Laurentiarts. It sounded very attractive. We met Anderson and I got our 30 dollars and then caught the 1.30 train to Ste Agathe. Canadian trains are rather amusing. It was St Bartholomew’s day and crowds of nuns and priests were travelling. The coaches are not so comfortable as our third class: the seats are cane, painted. Every now and then an attendant comes through selling papers, magazines, sandwiches, drinks, ices and so on.
The first part of the journey was through flat country – rather depressing in its way – stretches of waste land broken occasionally by fields of Indian corn and the frightful Canadian houses.
The engines of the trains have very small driving wheels to help them up the gradients. When we got up into the hills a bit we started twisting and turning in an amazing way and you could see the shape of the train. The hills were very rugged and covered by woods. I took some photos to try and get some idea of the country. Our journey was of about 50 miles to Ste Agathe. I can’t think where they find all the saints to name all their villages up there. We seemed to stop at every where (or every one) except Santa Klaus. We took a cab from the station to the bus, and then started the most extraordinary ride I have ever made – up to St Donat. The road was not made up and full of potholes and rocks. The driver went like mad round corners, with the wheels whining on the mudguards. [Everyone drives much faster and better in Canada. I noticed that when Dan was taking us round Montreal. When we were going down a street at about 40 we asked if there was a speed limit. He said “Sure, thirty miles”, and when we laughed he said, “Yeah, that’s what we all do, laugh at it.” As he was speaking two police men rushed past us!] Well, we were certainly thrown about in that bus. We went through some grand country, but it was difficult to see it properly for the dust and the bumps. However, after 18 miles we arrived at Jasper Villas. It was a wonderful place, perched on the side of a hill which towered up above overlooking the Lac Archembault. We were given a friendly welcome by M. La France, a funny little Frenchman. He managed the place for M. Tusey, the owner. M. Tusey’s vocabulary was somewhat limited. “Surely, surely, everything for the pleasure of our guests, surely, surely.” We changed into holiday attire and went out in the speed boat straight away for part of the way round the lake. We lived in a little chalet with a lounge hall and three bedrooms, and had our meals in a central dining room and our relaxation in a Pavilion attached.
Dinner was a very good meal: the French certainly know how to cook good food. After dinner we went for a walk along the road by the lake. The colouring as the sun set was superb. I can give no real pen-picture of the place. Round the lake rose high hills covered with thick wood and beyond the mountains towering off into the distance. There was a dance in the Pavilion that night. This was almost as amusing to watch as the Music box. The local band was incredibly bad and the intervals when the Wurlitzer was played were quite a relief.
[I enquired about a Church. The nearest – an RC – was five miles away.] We went across to our cabin where we sat in front of a huge log fire. This was unbelievable pleasant.
During the course of the evening we had a long and interesting talk with Recorder Plante – a Montreal magistrate. He did most of the questioning but I found out some interesting things about the Canadians – and particularly the French Canadian attitude to the war.
Sunday 25th August
We had breakfast about 9 and prepared for a picnic lunch. While the food was being prepared we had a trial spin in the canoes and boats. We then got our lunch and paddled across the lake. After some exploring we had a bathe and then had lunch. This was supplemented with raspberries and wortleberries which grow everywhere.
After further exploring we came back across the lake and prepared to climb the hill behind the Villas. M. Tusey said that it would take two hours to get up to the top. M. Plante took us in his car to the end of the trail and said it was 1 1/2 hours steady pull up. Well, we got up in 40 minutes. The view from the look out was superb. We could see from there how big Lac Archembault really was. The views from the top were superb – overlooking very wild and well wooded country. We stayed there for about a quarter of an hour. M and I ran nearly all the way down and got back in an hour and ten minutes. M. Plante greeted us and said he saw how the climb was too steep for us. They could hardly believe that we had been to the top and back. M and I got the fire going and sat in front of it and when the others got back we had some tea. After tea we went down to the boats where a photographer was taking pictures for advertising.
After this was over we got M. Tusey to take us aquaplaning. This was great fun. I tried first, and after about 50 yards managed to stand up. I did two sweeps round and then went off. I tried again and was just preparing to stand again when the boat did a sharp turn. I wobbled a bit and then went for six. I caught my arm on the way in the rope which was rather unpleasant for a moment. After a second or two in the water I realised I had hurt my foot too. They left me to find my own way to the shore! While Pat was doing her stuff I examined the damage – an unpleasant cut around the top of my left big toe. When Pat got back she pronounced it a doctor’s case, so after first aid we went to the local doctor and I had four stitches put in. He did it very well. This wasted a lot of time and rather cramped my style for the rest of our stay in Canada.
We spent the evening talking and went to bed fairly early.
Monday 26th August
We were woken in the usual way by the two way loudspeaker. [There was one of them and a radio in each chalet.] It was a glorious day so after breakfast we set off in canoes to explore parts of the lake which we had noticed from the lookout. I suppose we covered about 15 miles in the course of the morning. It was wonderfully warm and sunny. M was the only one who had a bathe. We left about four. The bus back was much more sedate. We had tea at Ste Agathe and caught the 5.15 train. I had been to sleep on the bus but somehow failed to do that on the train. We got back to the Mt. Royal at about 8.30 and after checking in went straight out for a meal. On the way out to our eating place we met Don Hulbert! He joined us and afterwards took the girls out in his car. My foot was rather painful so I went back to read the news.
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