When I tried to start the car in the morning I discovered that the battery was flat. Damn, just what I needed. I thought it might be the cracked alternator belt the battery shop told me about. I got a jump start and drove it to a service station. I left it to their tender mercies and went shopping in the mall.
Dorval shopping centre is a typical shopping mall. One supermarket, one department store, one hardware store, one pharmacy, lots of clothing and shoe shops. This one also had a collection of ethnic food stalls clustered around a large eating area. I bought a Greek lunch and took my tray to a table. I don't think french fries are authentic Greek food, but the meal was cheap and filling.
I finally got the replacement batteries for my camera at Radio Shack. I also came away with a stack of bargain jazz LPs from the record store. I really should get a CD player, LPs were dying out, but while I could still get cheap LPs and CDs were so expensive, I'd hold out.
Back at the service station, I got a shock when I saw the bill. I had thought only the belt needed replacement. Apparently the alternator was the culprit. The regulator had shorted out and discharged the battery. They had to replace the whole assembly because the regulator was integrated with the alternator.
Car running again and tank full of petrol, I headed out east. The weather was dismal with intermittent rain. I decided to take the south bank of the St. Laurent since I had not taken this route before. This was not such a good idea because I had to go through Montreal's southern suburbs. It wasn't because of the amount of traffic, just too many traffic lights.
Miscellaneous observations: Almost every other town or city in Quebec is named after some saint or other. I wondered if they would run out of saints. In fact this level of piety in place names is not found in France. One can only surmise that the names are relics from the 18th century, when explorers were followed by missionaries. Quebec drivers were quite aggressive. I didn't know if it was the higher speed limit, or what.
At Trois Rivières I crossed the St. Laurent again but headed north without entering the city. Soon I found myself driving through Mauricie Provincial Park along the R. St. Maurice. Logs were floating on the black water. I had expected blue water after seeing the Ottawa river at Ottawa. I assumed the dark colour came from algae. The logs were not lumber length so I assumed they were destined for paper mills. All along the highway were acre upon acre of dense coniferous forest.
Highway 155 meets Lac St. Jean near Roberval. It is not as big as the Great Lakes of course, but with a diameter of 20 km, one can just barely see the other shore. I regretted that I had arrived in the evening as it turned out later this was the major glimpse I would get of the lake. I still had to drive some 20 km along the lake before reaching St. Felicien. The hostel took a bit of work to locate. The place was packed with French-Canadian hostellers. Some of them seemed to be with a group. I wasn't too keen to go around introducing myself at this late hour and went to bed without dinner. I felt no hunger because of my fatigue.
Dorval shopping centre is a typical shopping mall. One supermarket, one department store, one hardware store, one pharmacy, lots of clothing and shoe shops. This one also had a collection of ethnic food stalls clustered around a large eating area. I bought a Greek lunch and took my tray to a table. I don't think french fries are authentic Greek food, but the meal was cheap and filling.
I finally got the replacement batteries for my camera at Radio Shack. I also came away with a stack of bargain jazz LPs from the record store. I really should get a CD player, LPs were dying out, but while I could still get cheap LPs and CDs were so expensive, I'd hold out.
Car running again and tank full of petrol, I headed out east. The weather was dismal with intermittent rain. I decided to take the south bank of the St. Laurent since I had not taken this route before. This was not such a good idea because I had to go through Montreal's southern suburbs. It wasn't because of the amount of traffic, just too many traffic lights.
At Trois Rivières I crossed the St. Laurent again but headed north without entering the city. Soon I found myself driving through Mauricie Provincial Park along the R. St. Maurice. Logs were floating on the black water. I had expected blue water after seeing the Ottawa river at Ottawa. I assumed the dark colour came from algae. The logs were not lumber length so I assumed they were destined for paper mills. All along the highway were acre upon acre of dense coniferous forest.
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