Joani plotted our trek into St. Andrews down Prince of Wales Street on the north side of town. The Algonquin Resort was built over the street joining the north and south wings of the hotel. There was plenty of clearance for the coach, it was just tedious with all the foot traffic. We had the breakfast buffet here on our 51st wedding anniversary (June 15th) where I ate way too much but it was so delicious!
Several times we took a trail from the campground that led into town. Along the way, we found fields of Lupine and very tame deer. One woman said when she would have popcorn at her camper the deer would come up to her for their share.
Most of the town's shops and restaurants were along Water Street, an easy three-quarters of a mile stroll. We tried the hardware store for a cabinet latch and while the store had been in business for many years they did not have what we needed. That's the side of the hardware store below. We dined out three or four times during our stay so it was good that we walked almost every time.
The amount of tide change depends on a number of factors. In St. Andrews it can be as much as 24 feet, however, it was more like 16 to 18 feet between high and low tide during our stay. I lost track of how many times Joani combed the shoreline for interesting rocks, I just know the car is loaded now.
I found this live crab in a tidepool.
The deer below were at the edge of our campground. They were not bothered by people walking or cars driving by on the road. We counted five several times so we assumed they ran together but maybe there were more. We saw them around town in people's yards as well.
I don't know why I like sailboats - I've never had one, will probably never have one, and can't quite imagine sailing on one - I guess they will always just be nice subjects for photographs.
Below, I tried to center on the lighthouse at high tide and again at low tide to show the difference. I was impressed. Now I can't wait to see the tide at the Bay of Fundy in a couple of weeks.
At low tide, the array of rocks seemed never-ending.
The Celtic Cross was dedicated as a memorial to the Irish immigrants who died on Hospital Island just offshore.
We never had a clear evening for stars and we kept looking for color at sundown. Unfortunately, while nice, the sunsets never blossomed into a full technicolor display.
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