End of our trip

We are now spending our last evening in the Maritimes. We purposely chose a B&B to relax in for our last day and a half – it has turned out to be the most luxurious one yet. We are outside of Halifax on a lake and have had to make hard choices: canoe on the lake accompanied by loons, go in the hot tub or have a jacuzzi, drive twenty minutes to the longest beach in Nova Scotia and walk alone on the white sand, watch birds in the neighbouring bird sanctuary, play with the three resident Scottie dogs (and watch out for Ruby who loves my slippers) or visit with the interesting guests. We decided to do them all!

Look forward to seeing you soon.

Cabot Trail

Our final day in Cape Breton was the famous Cabot Trail. We had saved this for last hoping that the trees would have started to turn colours. It is just beginning - the sides of the hills have a haze of orange like a dusting of brown sugar. The occasional shocking red and orange tree tells us what we would see everywhere in another two weeks. The river valleys are as beautiful as any we’ve seen, many of them, salmon-bearing, with fishermen standing in the shadows.

We passed through quaint Acadian towns with the now-familiar three-coloured flag with gold star painted on garage walls or flapping in the front yard. We stopped in Chetticamp and watched women practice their rug-hooking, an old skill turned to revenue in the thirties.

This time, the weather did not cooperate and the clouds hanging over us turned to fog as we started our climb. It became so thick that although we could see the car in front of us, the one just in front of that would frequently disappear as if it had gone over the edge! I could see some glimpses of the beautiful forest and rock cliffs beside the road so had an idea of what we weren’t seeing! The clouds lifted as we turned around the top of the peninsula and we did have a chance to see our way down through hair-raising turns – this side of the island was also lush and beautiful but entirely green – no hint of colour yet. The winding road we followed passed one dramatic cove after another with huge pink boulders and crashing waves. This was followed by more river valleys and marsh land. We found it dramatic in spite of half being behind a veil. Imagine what the trip must be like on a sunny day, especially in the full colour of fall!

Inventor, canon fire and coal mines

We’ve returned to Nova Scotia – traveling this time by ferry - and drove up to Cape Breton to stay in Baddeck, the home of Alexander Graham Bell. We are using this as our home base for three days since it is central in Cape Breton. Spent a few hours at the Bell Museum. Neither of us realized what a “renaissance man” he was. Take a curious, creative mind, and add a happy marriage and money, and you have Mr. Bell – inventions in air travel, hydroplanes, hearing, and communication fill room after room. His records were meticulous and his to-scale models are intact and fascinating.

Our next day took us to Louisburg, a reconstruction of an early 18th Century French Fort. Actors in character roam the grounds and guided tours provide important details. Having been to so many forts in Nfld and the other side of Nova Scotia, we are beginning to see the whole picture. It is the best way to learn history!
We then drove to Glace Bay and had a two-hour tour at the Miner’s Museum. We spent an hour in a mine shaft that was five feet high (height of the shaft is determined by height of the coal seam). I found out the reason for us wearing hard hats more than once! We were provided with canes to support ourselves as we struggled our way through the wet, dark mine with our guide, a retired mine worker, shouting the details to us. I realized why he talked so loud when he demonstrated the noise of the electric drill they would have in the background most of the time – you couldn’t work there long before your hearing would be affected. He was very funny and delighted in giving us the details of the difficult job of a miner. But it was also clear that he loved working in the mine because of the companionship of fellow workers who would risk their lives for you.

Lobsters and the Bay of Fundy

Confederation bridge and sleepy PEI

After a drive across the Confederation Bridge, we arrived in pastoral Prince Edward Island. Miles of farmland, farm houses, and villages roll up and down from one red shore to the miles of white sand on the other. We stayed in Charlottetown with the most eccentric B&B owner yet. Conversations with her were long and amazing leaving Bill and I either slack-jawed or in hysterics. I eventually resorted to trying to tiptoe past her door and into our rooms on centuries-old creaky floors! For more entertainment, we went to see Anne of Green Gables, the Musical - playing, as it has since 1965, at the Centennial Playhouse just around the corner from us. It is a full-out, old-fashioned musical and I loved every minute of it. Bill liked it too although he didn’t need a Kleenex at the end…

Two days on PEI and we felt we had seen it. The outlying areas close down at the end of August. As one young woman in Cavendish said, “At the end of August, we change the traffic lights to flashing and look up when a car drives by.” We tried to drive down to the seashore in a Provincial Park but were stopped by a gate that won’t go up now until June.

Wolfville, tides and lobster

Our last stop in Nova Scotia for now was Wolfville – home of Acadia University. We again stayed in a beautiful old inn and spent our evenings downstairs sipping wine in the one of the lounges. We stayed here two nights and made day trips. We drove to see the Bay of Fundy at low and high tide – impressive! We stopped for lunch at Hall’s Harbour, a lobster pound. The boats were sitting on the bottom of the harbour and we sat on the deck looking over them as we worked away on our lobster and butter.

Acadian churches

We drove down the coast and returned by the slow, seaside route to see the Acadian villages. Churches dominate the seaside including the largest wooden church in North America. Its spire is 74 meters high and contains thousands of pounds of cement to act as ballast to keep the spire from being blown over. Bill will remember this leg of the trip for the rappie pie…

Port Royal in the fog

Woke up to a chilly, very foggy fall day in Annapolis Royal and first walked across the street to the historic British garrison, Fort Anne. A young National Parks employee with nose rings, lip rings, and multiple ear rings gave us a clear description and summary of the history of the British and French in the Maritime region. The gist of it is that the French and British claims to many of the important military sites changed back and forth seven times before the British finally won. The Acadians lost out completely managing to stay neutral until after the last British victory when they were deported after refusing to declare allegiance. The story is brutal and we heard it over and over again. Our next stop was at Port Royal, a reproduction of a French fur trading habitation across the river.
We are filling in huge gaps in our knowledge of the early history of Canada and September was the right time to come. We are often the only ones in these historic sites and have the guides all to ourselves.

Canoe heaven

After two days in Lunenburg, easily the most beautiful historic town you’ll ever see, we drove across Nova Scotia making a stop half-way in Kejimikujik National Park. This park is described as being subtle – no spectacular features like mountains or waterfalls – just simple beauty. We agree. We went for a two hour canoe trip and felt we had experienced peace on earth. For much of it we were alone – just the occasional turtle sunning itself on driftwood or poking its head up amongst the lily pads and watching us the way seals do.

Canoe ride in Kedjimkujik National Park

We had the most glorious afternoon yesterday, paddling a canoe through Kedjimkujik National Park located in the middle of Nova Scotia. It is described as a place of quiet beauty. Our few hours of peace were precious.

Lunenburg "Bump"

Lunenburg is an UNESCO world heritage site, one of only two cities in North America (Quebec City, the other). It has beautifully maintained early 19th Century houses. This one was our B&B and has the unique "Lunenburg Bump", the Scottish dormer that has been brought down over the doorway.

Gastronomical Adventures in the Maritimes

We’ve eaten well and a lot since arriving. Because we are staying in Bed and Breakfasts, we start each day with more food than I’d normally eat all day! Stacks of pancakes are the favourite but the condiments change according to the place: partridgeberry sauce in Newfoundland, local maple syrup in Nova Scotia, and fresh blueberries everywhere.
Our lunches and dinners are where the fun starts.
We tried fish cakes more than once. In Nfld, these are made of salt cod and potato and are fried a deep golden brown. Fish cakes and Baked Beans can be served with a Mug-up – thick home-made bread served with molasses (and partridgeberry sauce).
Cod tongues are on virtually every menu we saw. They are either lightly fried or deep-fried and often served with scrunchions (small little morsels of salt-pork). Texture is like that of oysters – a bit firmer.
Fish and chips have been fabulous every time we’ve tried them – the fish is always fresh. It was cod in Nfld and haddock in Nova Scotia. The chips are home-made fries and much too good!
Seafood chowder also features the freshest seafood available and whether in a thick or thin sauce, is full of tasty chunks – cold water shrimp, haddock, scallops and clams.
And then there was Coquilles St. Jacques - tasty morsels of fresh scallops in a delectable wine sauce and Seafood platters with lobster, scallops and shrimp.
We stopped at a Lobster pound in Nova Scotia where fresh lobster were brought off the boats and served right there. We chose our healthy, active lobster but I drew the line at naming him and carrying him in a triumphant march to the kitchen. So the woman taking our order agreed to take the unfortunate lobster in the back way and presumably straight into the pot. $38.00 and five minutes later, he reappeared, very red and slightly cracked (for ease of eating). Lobster bib and melted butter at hand, we managed to work our way through every crack and crevice – pretty tasty.
When we travelled on the Evangeline Trail through Acadian villages, we ordered a famous Acadian dish – rappie pie. Huge plates of wallpaper paste coated with a dark brown crust appeared in front of us. When disturbed, chunks of chicken were found hidden in the grayish gelatinous potatoes. It was served with butter which we assumed to be intended to be added as with mashed potatoes. It tasted okay but the quantity was enough that Bill walked around feeling like he had swallowed one of the canon balls from the garrison we had visited earlier.
We may try salads for a while…..

If it's Saturday, it must be Lunenberg

We've been doing our usual, travelling far and seeing lots. It is so hard to slow down when there is so much to see. Arrived in Nova Scotia on Thursday and spent time "regrouping". Did manage to see Pier 21 which I found very emotional. There are very few artifacts but video recordings have been collected of people's memories of coming into Canada and they are powerful. We take so much for granted.
We also spent about three hours in the Maritime Museum - largely because it was almost empty and we had guides and staff to ourselves in more than one case. Spent an hour in the "Company Store" and learned so much about the Halifax explosion, amalgamation of Halifax ten years ago, the hazards of the sea around the Halifax harbour and more fishing stories.
Left for Lunenberg and stopped at the Swiss Air Memorial and Peggy's Cove. Lunenberg is a UNESCO world heritage site one of only two cities in North America - Quebec is the other. It is remarkable with houses built in the early 1800's still in fabulous shape.
We are now in the public library and I'm able to update the blog after days of unsuccessful attempts. The B&B's advertise internet access but their servers just can't handle it. We love staying in them anyway, last night we stayed in the Zwicker House built in 1830 for a doctor and his family. The breakfasts are fabulous and we will come back home rounder than we left. Fresh blueberry and buttermilk pancakes with Nova Scotia maple syrup was this morning's start.
The remains of one of the hurricanes is now blowing into town - it is expected to blow up to 100 km tonight! Yesterday was sunny and warm and tomorrow is expected to return to good weather. We are driving along the Lighthouse Trail so may see some impressive waves!

Mug up

This "stage" or "room" (used for processing the fish) was across the street from where we had our mug up - home-baked bread, molasses and tea. Bill was talked into adding the Baked Beans and fish cakes to his.

St.John's

This was the view outside our hotel. Typical of the downtown of St. John's. The Mansard roofs appeared after the fire of 1892 which burned down most of the downtown. The style had changed. You can track the extent of the fire by looking at the roofs.

L'Anse aux Meadows

At the tip of the northern peninsula of Newfoundland, this little fishing town is remote, desolate and beautiful. Hard to imagine what it would be like in the winter.

Lobster traps in Tickle Cove

Each fisherman is allowed 300 lobster traps. They are stashed everywhere in the off season.

For dog lovers

Yes, Newfoundlander dogs did come from here. This lovely guy was from away though - the owner brought him to Bonavista from Ontario - to trace his roots. Newfoundlanders are famous for rescuing fishermen in the stormy, cold Atlantic.

Bonavista

The salt box houses in the fishing village of Bonavista.

Highway gardens

Gardens found along the highway on the northern peninsula of Newfoundland - in the middle of no where - the soil is better than in the towns on the shorelines. Potatoes seem to be the crop of choice.

Tablelands, carnivorous flowers and The Rooms

Since last entry we’ve once again covered a lot of territory. In spite of threatening weather, we managed to hike on the remarkable tablelands of Gros Morne Park – a UNESCO World Heritage site. The clouds lifted just as we drove up to the trail head and we hiked on an area that was once part of the earth’s mantle. It was lifted up millions of years ago and now, because it consists of minerals plants don’t like, sits as a rust-coloured, bald plateau in the middle of rounded green mountains. There is some plant life along pathways and in areas of run off and I spent some of my time on my knees taking pictures of the Pitcher Plant, a very neat carnivorous flower sitting like a cobra in the grass.

We stopped for a Mug-up on our way out of the park - thick slabs of home-made bread with molasses and tea. The fisherman sitting in the restaurant challenged Bill to add Baked Beans and Fish Cakes to the Mug-up. Both were the kind of rib-sticking food a fisherman would be glad to have after a day’s fishing. We then listened to his fishing tales – he is from St. John’s but on the west coast fishing for mackerel. He swears his nine-year old son won’t be a fisherman if he can help it – hopes that Danny Williams is going to have a solution for him.

We left the west coast and decided to just drive straight across Nfld to St.John’s in one day. The weather was changing and we felt ready to move on to another province. We arrived in St. John’s at 10:30 at night, relieved not to have any moose incidents in the dark. In fact we didn’t see one living moose in spite of all the warnings – no doubt because hunting season is in full force. We did have a close look at a black bear crossing the road and then changing her mind and going back – all because her cub on the other side decided not to join her.

We spent the next day in St. John’s finishing up seeing the sights. It was an unbelievably blustery day. The rain was moving across the sky in sheets. It was blowing like crazy and really grey. We were surprised every time we ventured outside to find it was actually warm! We couldn’t see for rain flying in our faces and had to keep our hoods tied tight to our faces. Spent a few hours in The Rooms - museum, art gallery and archives opened two years ago – designed to reflect the shape of the buildings used for fish preparation all along the coast. When we came out, the rain had stopped and we were able to wander around the old town of St. John’s and take pictures of the turn of the century multi-coloured houses. Ended the day in a charming restaurant where we toasted Newfoundlanders with Quidi Vidi beer. Nova Scotia is next.

Vikings, moose and other creatures...

We’ve driven over 1000 km since the last blog entry two days ago. We’ve now traveled right across Newfoundland and up the Northern Peninsula to L’Anse aux Meadows. We’re continuing to immerse ourselves in the Newfoundland culture and are loving every minute. The only problem is I can’t sleep at night. I’m suffering information overload and my brain literally buzzes when I put my head on the pillow.
We have had two or three intense conversations every day with locals who are willing to share their story and I feel I could write a book after each one. We continue to find the people so friendly, thoughtful and helpful. It is a treat to talk to them and have a peek into their interesting but in many cases, difficult lives.
To get to the top of the Northern Peninsula, we spent a sunny day yesterday driving past picturesque fishing villages (this is where the lobster fishery is located on NFLD) with the Gulf of St. Lawrence on our left as far as we could see until the strait narrowed and Labrador took shape on the horizon.
This morning, we spent three interesting hours at the L’Anse aux Meadows archeological site – with a great guide who filled our brains with fascinating stories of the history behind the discovery. He said that since, as a Newfoundlander he would be talking faster than we could listen, we could stop him at any time in order to catch up!
The day was overcast and cold and in the bitter Atlantic wind on the exposed seaside. It wasn’t hard to imagine the bleak lives of the Vikings who lived there a thousand years ago and to wonder as well at the Newfoundlanders who have taken their place.
A few hundred people still live in the simple houses hugging the shore of the coves at the very tip of Nfld. On this cold fall day they were busily preparing for winter. For miles, we had passed enormous piles of wood stacked here and there on the side of the highway and today we watched men loading up their trucks with the firewood they have been collecting, drying and cutting since last winter.
We also passed roadside gardens. These 10’ by 20’ patches were randomly located for miles on the side of the road often framed by wooden fences but also outlined with sticks and coloured plastic tape. It turns out that the soil is so infertile in the towns, people pick out a place along the highway and plant their gardens there. In 90% of the cases, the gardens are filled with potatoes (that Irish influence continues) but occasionally turnips, cabbage or carrots.
It is also the start of moose-hunting season and instead of seeing the live moose we had been warned to watch out for (660 moose-related accidents last year) we saw dozens of hunters, trucks and trailers lining the highway – some who had already been successful. We did see one lovely red fox with a tail to write home about. That was the only cheerful wildlife sighting today.
We are glad we came all this way – it is a brutal long drive – but the Viking site, more Newfoundland culture, and the chance to see these isolated fishing villages containing literally the “salt of the earth” was an opportunity we’ll always treasure.

Puffins, jam and cod fishing

We didn't have internet access last night at our B&B. Loved staying there though - it was a fishing family and we sat up last night listening to hair-raising fishing stories from Mr. White who has fished all his life and Mrs. White who sits at home waiting for her husband and son to return from fishing more than 200 miles offshore.
We've had two fabulous days touring, talking, and travelling from St. John's up to Bonavista and then to Grand Falls in the interior. My mind boggles at the information overload.
Some of the highlights:
Cod hanging on the clothes lines looking like dozens of dirty socks.
Cove after cove of traditional, box-shaped houses clustered on the shore. Huge tall-spired, wooden churches usually up on the hill - well attended and well looked after in this life of danger and disappointment.
Puffins flying like bats after too much gin. Only the few slow learners remain, the rest have left for the sea.
Miles of boggy forest with stunted trees and upon close inspection, ground cover of partridge berries - not quite ready for jam.
Shy and quiet but always friendly Newfoundlanders ready to talk about their changing lives, amused that we think their communities are beautiful.
Accents so thick Bill and I have developed a permanent stance: leaning in, best ear forward. The gems are worth bottling. I regret not having a tape recorder.
Three cars on three different roads today with husbands leaning against the car watching while the wives were in the bushes picking blueberries. I hear the men are more comfortable on the water.
Pictures and stories of houses put on skids and floated off to new locations - especially during the forced resettlements of the 30's and 40's. Most of them still sit on blocks - as if waiting for the next move.

I'm overwhelmed with the charm of the place but feel the quiet recognition of the disappearance of a unique culture. As one man in his garden just outside Tickle Cove said: "We're burning the candle at both ends." The old people are dying and the young are leaving before they have families. The school in his community used to house 75 students. This year there are 14 and 4 are graduating. And there won't be a kindergarten student for four more years.
There are strongly-held but quietly-spoken feelings about the betrayal of the government and the part of the big industrial fishing companies in the destruction of the Northern stock after generations of stability when only the inshore fishermen were involved. But it was interesting to hear our Mr. White wonder out loud about his quota of 30,000 pounds of crab and how long they will last.
They seem to accept that their children will be going away. They watch Americans buying up the properties (houses in Bonavista selling for $15,000 - $20,000 with view...) and change their old habits of having winter and summer homes for fishing to now living in Newfoundland for spring and summer fishing season, and going to the Alberta oil camps the rest of the year.
We're off to the west coast tomorrow - to Gros Morne Park - the geological equivalent of what the Galapagos is to biologists. We hope to spend some time hiking.

Windy capes, short beds and haunted tales

Set out for Cape Spear just east of St. John’s. This is the farthest eastern tip of North America but the off-shore wind would have kept us in Canada if we’d wanted to go further! The woman in the gift shop explained that Cape Spear is the windiest spot in Canada but said “At least it keeps the mauzy weather away…” (Fog for the Newfoundlanders, like snow for the Inuit has many names.)
Walking through the bog forest that makes up almost half of Newfoundland, we came across ‘Butter and Eggs’ and ‘Striped Toadflax’ as well as hundreds of purple asters. Who would have expected so much colour? The lighthouse was beautiful against the blue sky and the small beds in the living quarters were explained by the fact that men in those days were 5’2” on average. The doors of bunkers built in the hillside during WWII are slowly rusting away. They never saw action and are summed up by the description of one of the soldiers stationed there: “We left it as we found it: cold, clammy, foggy and miserable.”
Deciding to stay in the St. John’s area for today, we headed to Signal Hill, the site of the final battle of the Seven Years War between Britain and France. Flagged messages from Cape Spear across the water were relayed to Signal Hill then to the fort below. It gave us a good vantage point to see the tiny “Narrows” that huge ships pass through to the deep harbour of St.John’s. The colourful, flat-fronted Newfoundland houses fill the hillside about the harbour in a haphazard patchwork.
Looking for supper, we walked through the old town of St.John’s. Almost completely destroyed by the great fire of 1892, houses with mansard roofs, considered more stylish than the flat-fronted ones, show the boundaries of the fire. Finally, after three disastrous fires, St. John’s was rebuilt with wider streets and more brick.
We found a restaurant that fit our criteria: must have water view and serve traditional Newfoundland food. Bill had deep-fried cod tongues with scrunchions (fried pork fat) and I had fish cakes (salt cod and potato). Amazingly (or maybe because of all the exercise we’d had) we ate every last crumb.
The night ended with the St. John’s Haunted Hike with the Reverend Thomas Wyckham Jarvis. We spent an hour and a half walking through back lanes, church yards and deserted grave sites of old St. John’s. The Reverend's stories backed up the histories I’m reading - you wouldn’t want to have lived here in the 1700’s. There were many sites for public flogging and public hangings - often attended by thousands and all in the vain attempt to keep the rabble in line. Much injustice to settlers continued for more than a century as Admirals preferred to keep the fishing grounds to themselves.
Ironic that this morning’s local CBC program included an interview with a representative of the local fishermen who say there are cod out there and the government is keeping it secret…..

Friendly folk, working harbour, we're here!

Left foggy Victoria with just over the required ¼ mile visibility at 7:00 am and began our 11 hours of travel (7 hours flying time) All went well – no running for flights, no lost bags, and our rental car waiting at 11:00 pm in NFLD. The seats on the airbus even left room for my long legs! Stopped off at Vancouver, Calgary and Halifax and had clear skies to the border of Saskatchewan. Clear views of the Delta of the Fraser River at low tide, the skyline of Calgary with the Calgary Tower now standing up like a short friend in a crowd. And Saskatchewa, a patchwork of browns and rusts with occasional leopard skin blotches of dips and hollows of water changing from black spots to silver as we flew over. The rectangles and squares with lines running true as far as the eye could see were just turning green as the clouds closed the curtain on my 3D map of Canada.
We got our first taste of the friendly reception we’d heard about in the Maritimes on our flight from Halifax to St. John’s. Our Nfld-born seat mate worked hard to think of every little thing we should see while here. I was madly writing as he listed them – He had many good tips including a warning to expect to see moose on most roads and be sure to wear a hat at St. Mary’s Bird Reserve!
When Bill said, “You don’t seem to have a newfie accent.”, he cheerfully informed us that that is something people from here don’t like to be called. He said, “You’ll get a bit of a cheeky reply if you call someone that!!”
While we were asking about L’Anse aux Meadows, the Viking archeological site, a young fellow in front of us poked up his head and joined the conversation. He assured us that National Historic sites are open until mid-October, to be sure to get a Viking Pass and oh by the way be sure to go for a picnic at furlind…. I slowed him down and spell it – F-e-r-r-y-l-a-n-d! He happily informed us that at the buffet-style picnic we’d be sure to get partridgeberry and bakeapple jam! After fifteen minutes of enthusiasm, we all sat back and took a breath and savoured the fun and treats ahead of us.
We’re staying at an Inn in the downtown of St.John’s looking out at the harbour. It is a working harbour so out our window the harbour is lined with cargo containers, heavy equipment, and Cruise ships. We are right by the narrows and across the water, fishing boats are moored and up the hill are IRVING white fuel storage tanks. We must be in the Maritimes!

Two penguins in the northern hemisphere

Hi there,
We're leaving for "Sin Jahns" early Wednesday and spending three weeks exploring a part of Canada I've never seen and Bill hitchhiked once through when he was 17! Looking forward to almost as many exotic creatures (mostly two-legged, in this case) as we saw down under. We arrive in Newfoundland and leave from Nova Scotia three weeks later. Have only our first two nights booked and a vague plan. So, if it is raining (or snowing), if we hit the tail-end of a hurricane or a heat wave, we can just pick up and move on.
Right now we're immersing ourselves in Maritime lore - reading travel books and watching movies like Rare Birds and Shipping News. I am finally reading Colony of Unrequited Dreams.
We're packing extra layers, still debating about heavy hiking boots (good for snow..) and Bill is working out the features of his new GPS for the wilderness on the Rock! We're looking forward to the adventures.
Hope to have lots of stories to tell (be careful what you wish for.....)
Eileen