At Mattawa

In the Ojibwa language Mattawa means “Meeting of the Waters” --- specifically these are the waters of the Mattawa River and the Ottawa (aka Kitchissippi) River.

For the first time in ages (two years plus?) today we  travelled to somewhere we hadn't seen before. Admittedly our flight to North Bay was familiar enough, over the Pembroke area and the Algonquin Park, with a crosswind landing at the destination competently done by Chris. But then the FBO man handed us the key to the FBO's Volvo (promising us a cheaper rate than the airport car rental companies), and we drove it east along the 17 to Mattawa where we are spending two nights on a whim. It is peaceful here, just what we need, and we're taking advantage of perfect spring weather.

We can imagine the 17th century explorers and 18th / 19th century voyageurs camping on this point, lighting a fire and watching the sun set with their Algonquin companions who had known the way here for millenia. Etienne Brulé and Radisson were the French pioneers who came here.

We aren't sleeping out of doors but at Le Voyageur Inn that has a very friendly low-key atmosphere, clean, tidy and well run by a family from Asia who serve Thai food in their large restaurant, clearly a favourite place for the locals to dine. Everyone seems to know one another here. In its heyday at the start of the 20th century Le Voyageur must have been the place to meet, as it's one of the largest buildings in town, with a big balcony and dormer windows.

I can also imagine our late Ottawa-Vanier MP Mauril Bélanger growing up here as a boy ("our" MP because we used to vote for him). A river bridge across the Mattawa proudly bears his name. The town must have a sizeable French-Catholic population to judge by the large, strikingly modern church with two schools for the children of the parish adjoining it, plus a Garderie for the little ones called Rayons de Soleil.

A railway crosses the Ottawa River here, just beyond our hotel room windows in fact, and this afternoon we heard and saw a goods train rattling by.

There's one more thing worth mentioning before I fall asleep and that is the giant Joe Muffraw (only the francophone raftsmen could pronounce his real name properly: Joe Montferrand) carved out of a large piece of lumber, who stands by the waterfront park, a man of legendary strength and ferocity, especially in the 1820s when he frequented these parts of Canada. There's a story of him canoeing from Mattawa to Ottawa in one day, surely an exaggeration? and of him knocking 100 men down at once who had been waiting to ambush him on the Portage Bridge in Ottawa. That story reminds me of Cryrano de Bergerac:

Cent hommes! Quel courage!