So what's my position now then?

In the front seat behind the steering wheel, as the old saying goes. Well, anyway, apart from that, I'm at a small village called La Chute des Outardes, along the St Lawrence estuary, where there is a public wi-fi connection that is open.

And where have I been since I left St Félicien? Basically, down the south-western shore of the big valley that contains the Lac St Jean and the Sageunay Fjord. And this area has totally surprised me as despite how far into the interior it is, the shore of the Lac St Jean is a heaving metropolis. Chicoutimi itself has 60,000 inhabitants! There's also farming and cattle too, would you believe?

What there are too are some stunning views of the lake and it's very difficult to find a photo that really does justice to the area - there are so many to choose from. But at least with this one here you can see the trees, the beach, the sky and the water.

Yes, beach! There are some of the best beaches that I have ever seen, especially on a lakeshore. I don't fancy the water too much though - it all flows in from the north and the Arctic Divide. "Glacial" is a good - and probably correct - word to describe it.

We had something of a minor hiccup as well - a puncture. One of the tyres blew out and left a split down the wall. Jacking up the car was no picnic on a dirt road - eventually I had to use a couple of my bed boards to stop the jack sinking into the surface. And the space-saver spare tyre takes some finding as well - it's not where you think that it might be and it had me fooled for a while.

Eventually I found one of these rural barn-type of tyre places and he had a second-hand tyre that was almost the same size and with a reasonable amount of tread and that cost me $45 including fitting and so on and I'm not complaining at that. It's put me back on the road and I'll sort it out properly at Rachel and Darren's when I get there, whenever that might be.

So now I'm back on the north bank of the St Lawrence again, creeping imperceptibly towards my destination. That there is Tadoussac where I catch the ferry that takes me over the mouth of the Sageunay again across to the other side. Tadoussac has some fond memories for my - my first ever night in Canada, outside a heaving metropolis of course, was spent there. Not to mention, of course, that it has a ferry too.

But ferries always put me in a bad mood - in fact every time I see a ferry it makes me cross.

Okay - I'll get my coat.