Monday 5th May, Lopez Island

Monday 5th May

On board yet another rather faceless/characterless ferry en route to Lopez Island, the first stop. As we set sail from Anacortes it is towards a mist-covered scene with the dark bases of, as yet, unnamed islands more or less covering the horizon but no peaks to be seen. There are odd patches of blue sky here and there so maybe we will sail into some sun. No wind: the water is very calm. Bumped into a seal at the jetty yesterday and saw a lot of shearwater/shag-type birds today so there's plenty of wildlife out there! 

As we head out into the islands/As the boat threads its way through a veritable splodge of bits of uninhabited rock, I have  good feeling about the SJs. We're on a car ferry so, duh!, obviously there'll be cars but, rather like Kintyre, once they've sped past you, you know it'll be another two hours until the next lot arrive. 

The americans have a very simple approach to road names. None of our A356 or B492 via Oban for them. All their roads have names. In small communities these tend to be 'High Road' or 'Avenue 0' but occasionally they come up with something more interesting.

(Later that same day)

In Italy, it is almost impossible to travel more than 100 m without encountering a pizzeria of some kind: they're just essential to life. In this neck of the proverbials, the same goes for wholefood cafés. Every single truckstop, tourist corner or community venue has at least one organic pitstop. This tiny hamlet, the Lopez of Lopez Island, has at least four, along with a chiropractor, potter, bike and kayak shop and the usual reminaing stuff. 

My camp site on Lopez: another State Park, another glorious view.

To none of which, I should hasten to add, am I in any way averse. But it poses a severe threat to one's teeth since each has its own range of temptations. For lunch I stopped to pick up a sandwich in a tiny roadside store near Agate Beach at the foot of the island. they had an amazing selection of to-die-for sandwiches, cookies, energy bars, drinks and so on.. I went for the biggest, sweetest, richest bit (spelt S L A B) of date slice that I have every had in a lifetime's dating. Fab (spelt F L A B)