After spending the afternoon with friends in Saint John, we drove north, heading for the Bay of Fundy. By the time we got to Sussex, however, we though it might be wise to find a hotel before the large blank semi-inhabited section of the map. So we pulled off the highway and immediately saw a mural, and then another. Murals are some of my favorite things - and by sheer coincidence we had come to a town covered in them. We stopped by a dozen to photograph them.
One woman volunteered to take our photo together and one man volunteered directions to several murals which could not be see from the road. The 'Camp Sussex' mural however was by a parking lot on the river, where the local kids clearly gather to hang out and drink. I didn't hear them, but as we were taking photos one kid started doing a slow clap, then swearing about the tourists and where we could go. They chose the wrong person to harass - RJH cannot abide a bully, and as a photojournalist seems particularly immune to anyone attempting to intimidate or limit his ability to take a photo. So, he approached the group and asked if they had something to say. They immediately backed down, and one scurried off. RJH couldn't see from his angle, but I pointed out that the one who make the hasty retreat was ...pushing a baby stroller. Very classy. It's never nice to be harassed, but we actually spent the rest of our trip laughing about the Sussex strollerpunks. RJH couldn't understand and kept saying, "It's not like we were photographing them." It's got to be tough finding any entertainment for young people in a small mining town in New Brunswick, but complaining to tourists about taking photos of murals seems random and a bit senseless. Everyone else in town was quite friendly.
Quite the moose!
We tried to find a hotel room but the hotel was booked solid (apparently it was spill-over from Saint John, also apparently booked solid). The lady behind the desk suggested a motel up the road, and told us all about the potash and shale gas activity in the area and how fracking had destroyed her sister's house. We asked if it was a nice motel and were told it was very clean - so as expected, we found a tidy motel, decorated by someone with a dubious sense of pattern in the early 70s. But, there was a diner attached, and breakfast was included, so we had a nice start to our day and headed out towards the Hopewell Rocks on the Bay of Fundy.