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Pre-trip:
This trip
idea was borne out of both obligation and desire. An obligation to visit my in-laws, and
the desire to see Maine
in its summer glory. Granted,
I’d visited Maine
before, but in the winter, in the grim, dark, cold weeks around Christmas
and New Years. The world was then
covered in grey snow, and we were stranded without our own transportation,
captive to our hosts for transportation and entertainment.
This
trip would be different. As my
darling husband loves road trips, he would get one – he drove his car
up two weeks early, so as to have some time with his family alone before I
arrived by plane. This not only gave
him some time with his grandmother (her birthday was the weekend after he
arrived) but gave him some ‘wiggle’ room for the whole
trip. Time to himself to visit
family, old haunts, etc.
He also
had time to learn the quirks and capabilities of his new electronic toy, my
dad’s GPS system. And quirks
there were to be had.
When I
was searching for flights, I was delighted to find that the airfare out of
my own city of Gainesville was only a small
premium compared to the Jacksonville
flight. Usually it is much higher,
and the convenience is outweighed by the cost. However, a $30 increase in fare would
save me an hour and a half travel each way, so I snapped it up. The fare didn’t waver much for the
months near the trip.
I
booked a US Airways flight from Gainesville
to Charlotte, with a connection to Boston. Jason would then pick me up in Boston, and we would begin the leisurely drive up the New England coast.
This would afford me with some delightful views of the coast, plenty
of photo ops for lighthouses (so I thought) and the scenic wonders of the
ocean.
Saturday, August 11th:
Saturday
morning I woke up quite early to make my flight. My father was kind enough to awake in the
early dawn with me, to drop me off and save me two weeks of parking
fees. Our friend worked there at the
TSA, and was kind enough to recommend I not get there before 6:00am for my
7:30am flight – security doesn’t even open until 6:30am, and
there are only three gates. It was
not exactly a bustling city airport like O’Hare or Miami
International.
All
went well in security, and the plane came in on time. I sat next to a young lady with the
smallest iPod I’d ever seen – perhaps half the size of a
tic-tac box; and bright pink, of course.
Between that and her white iMac laptop, she was quite the
fashionable techno-geek.
When we
arrived at Charlotte,
we circled for about 15 minutes, but we landed within good time, and I had
enough time to get to my gate for the connecting flight. I hadn’t seen the luggage loaded,
so feared for it, but clamped down firmly on such negative thoughts and
enjoyed the flight.
I was
sharing a row with Norma (a garden artist) and Anne (a retired social
worker) who were on their way to Stonehill
College for a
Buddhist Retreat. We did have to
wait a while to get our jet way once we landed, and I watched eagerly for
my bag to be unloaded (I was seated just over the unloading ramp). Again, I didn’t see it, but this
may not have been the only place they were unloading luggage (I hope!)
When
the masses were released, I found my husband waiting for me in baggage
claim, and glory be! My bag was
there. Such negative thoughts were
unfounded and unfair… my flight was pretty flawless, and everyone was
great in terms of customer service.
Well deserved kudos to US Airways.
Now, if this simple, normal, problem-free flight was only the NORM
in all airlines experience, I wouldn’t get so concerned about
checking bags, having connections, or getting through security. It is never the flying itself that brings
out my apprehension – I love actually flying in the airplane. It’s all the crap that we have to
worry about around air travel, such as getting checked luggage back on
time, making my connections, getting through security on time, having our
rental car ready, etc. Orson Welles
said there are only two emotions in flight – boredom and terror. I think I’ll take boredom and
plenty of it, thank you very much.
Since I
was starving, we decided to stop for lunch shortly out of Logan airport. Jason wasn’t feeling adventurous
– he wanted reliable, so we had some chicken sandwiches at
Wendy’s on our way out of the city.
I relented – normally I much prefer to sample local places,
small mom-and-pop places, local cuisine, etc. However, this wasn’t an exotic
vacation to another country, it was simply New England,
and so I relaxed my culinary requirements for the trip.
We
followed the coastline on our trip back to Maine.
We drove through the more touristy areas of New Hampshire, the beaches during the
summer. Wow, what a crowd! It looked like South Beach
on a winter day. There were throngs
of tanned bodies, silly sun hats, carnival-like kiosks and tacky
tourist-trap gift shops. It was like
a parking lot trying to drive through the mess. I think I shall avoid such
sun-worshipping Meccas in the future – just not my bag, baby. The
group of Harley-drivers looked similarly disgusted by the
display. Don’t get me wrong,
it’s not the skin that annoys me; it’s the ticky-tacky.
Coastline in New
Hampshire
When we
finally left the sun-drenched beaches of New Hampshire,
and into the tree-laden hills of Maine,
we realized that the car was a bit hungry, as well. We drove up 1A, trying to find cheap
gas. Jason passed by several
stations that were deemed too dear, but when we were stopped by a seemingly
eternal traffic jam, we reversed our course and went back to the expensive
(though available) gas. We had had
enough of small, two lane roads that were wont to jam, so we went on to
I-95 for some fast traveling. We
found a Holiday Inn Express near Portland,
to find a room for the night and continue our trip home in the morning,
only to find it was full. The clerk
said all the hotels (I assume she meant HI only) were full, though the Bath
Holiday Inn had some smoking rooms (yuk).
I was
not used to being shut out – I live in Florida, where there are ALWAYS more
rooms available nearby. There simply
aren’t enough tourists in the world to fill all the hotels in Florida, so far as I
can tell. Therefore, we decided to
drive a bit inland, to Lewiston,
and found a rather expensive Ramada.
We also made the mistake of eating at their buffet. Ugh!
It was cheap – and deservedly so – at $5.99. That should have been our first
clue. It was worse than high school
cafeteria fare, but we were tired, we were hungry, we didn’t want to
drive anymore, so we ate. Even the
dessert was sad and tired. We slept
reasonably well, though (we were exhausted), and set off in the morning.
Sunday, August 12th:
We woke
up rested and ready to rock, despite a fairly hard bed. We headed down for some blessedly mundane
McDonald’s breakfast (we didn’t want to risk the hotel
breakfast after last night’s culinary tragedy), and set the GPS for
Pemaquid Point. This was a beautiful
area, filled with roses, butterflies, sailboats and cormorants. Spending a while soaking in the relaxing
seaside beauty seemed like just the ticket to counteract the hectic beaches
of the day before. Jason climbed
down to the rocks and the beach, but I only had sandals on and wasn’t
quite ready to trust these flimsy footwear to the ravages of Atlantic coast
rocks. I stayed at the vantage point
over the point, and took lots of beautiful photos, while Jason
explored. I befriended some Monarch
butterflies, also on vacation.
Pemaquid Point, Maine
On the
way back from the point, we decided to explore the next point south, and
took 129 down. We got lost a couple
times, despite the efforts of the GPS.
Sometimes it was DUE to the GPS – it insisted there was a road
where there was simply a cliff. Was
it trying to get us killed?
Apparently so. I could swear
I could hear disappointment in the female voice as she recalculated our
route after turning around.
She’s out to get us, truly.
Dragon in a yard near Pemaquid Point, Maine
We made
it to Rockland,
only to discover it was in the throes of a Lobster Festival. That was all well and good, but we simply
wanted to sit at a café and eat a relaxed lunch – and there was no
parking to be had. The area was
bustling with tourists, locals, and vendors, all wanting to hock cheap fair
food. We did see a sushi restaurant,
a phenomena my in-laws had insisted was nowhere to be found in Maine. However, we decided to skip scenic Rockland and head up the coast to Camden for more serene eating
opportunities.
We
found such opportunity at a small roadside café called ‘Offshore
Diner’, not far from Camden. I had my first taste of New
England lobster stew; we had steamed clams, lobster and fried
seafood platters for lunch. The food
was delicious; the stew was creamy and full of big chunks of lobster, the
clams were wonderful and tasty, and I couldn’t finish all the food they
brought.
Harbor near Rockland, Maine
After
lunch, we headed inland on route 7, and headed home to my in-laws’
house and antique store (www.ironbellyantiques.com)
in Palmyra, Maine.
On the way through the bustling city of Newport, we saw what Jason called Holy
Rollers (Pentecostals) – girls in blue dresses, boys in shirts and
suits. We were home around 3:30pm,
and after the initial round of hugs and hellos, we settled into our digs. I greeted their new black Labrador puppy (Chewie), and he gave me the grand
tour of the place. Their house is a
wonderful old farmhouse, circa 1830-1880, with a huge carriage house that
is now an Antique Store, and 14 rooms in the main house. They’ve done a lot of renovating,
but are still in the process for the kitchen and downstairs bathroom.
That
night Jason got together ingredients to make one of his favorite meals
– a cioppino soup made with mussels, clams, and scallops, and
spaghetti with ‘Sunday gravy’, an Italian tomato sauce with
different meats simmered in it. We
ate it up, it was delicious! I think
he impressed his parents with his cooking skills – I know his mom
asked him for the recipe of the soup.
The
Perseid meteor shower was supposed to be visible, but there was so much
cloud cover it wasn’t. Too
bad, I’d never seen meteor showers before, though I have seen my
share of falling stars. The wishes
never came true, though – otherwise I would have won that lottery
long ago.
Monday, August 13th:
This
morning we broke our fast at a northern US fixture, Tim
Horton’s. They need one of
these in Gainesville,
seriously! Great bagels, divine iced
cappuccino (and I normally don’t like coffee), donuts, breakfast
sandwiches, lunch sandwiches, good old-fashioned recipes. Evidently Wendy’s owns a stake in
the company, but the farthest south they have come so far is Kentucky… so I
must be patient.
Funny sign, Dexter, Maine
Jason’s
laptop decided to make our vacation all the better by dying on us this
morning, so we took a trek into Bangor
to bring it to the Geek Squad at Best Buy.
Since we were on vacation, we didn’t have our Windows disks
with us, and Geek Squad said they would need them to reinstall
anything. I think this is rather
ridiculous – certified repair places should be allowed to purchase
some generic repair disk to allow for this sort of thing. After all, laptops are DESIGNED to be
mobile – you won’t be at home with them all the time, on
purpose. So when it breaks down, you
should be able to take it into a reliable repair shop, to be fixed. Right?
Wrong. They have nothing to
fix it if you don’t happen to have your disks with you, since they
are all registered. Geek Squad said
it would be 4 days until they could diagnose it – we said we would be
leaving for Canada
in less than that. We started to
leave, they said they’d push it up as much as they could (right).
We
drove over to Orono to the University
of Maine to let off
some steam. This is where my husband attended college, and he showed me the
campus, where his dorm was, etc. It
was rather deserted for the summer months, and reminded me of some
apocalyptic movie scene. Zombies
were expected shortly – or perhaps werewolves, as there were plenty
of forests around. We went to one of
his old dining places, Governor’s, for lunch. The shrimp roll I had was just OK, but
the peanut butter/chocolate pie was grand.
We
headed home for a rest – it had been quite stressful contemplating
the certain death of the beloved laptop, lifeline to his school, games, and
life. Jason spied some wild turkeys
foraging in the garden, so I went out to try to take some pictures. Then we found the deer grazing in my
father-in-law’s ‘deer marijuana’ field – a field of
clover and chicory, and other good things deer like to feed on. There were four hanging out for a late
lunch, munching away and giving us dirty looks as I snapped away with my
camera.
Posing deer in Palmyra, Maine
We took
a bit of a road trip up through Corinna, Dexter, and to Dover-Foxtrot. On the way we chose a dirt road to drive
down to do some exploring, and ended up looking at an incredible scenic
vista laid out before us – we could see for miles over the
hills. This was late afternoon, so
the sun shone golden on the green hills and trees, the battered barns and
paint peeled farmhouses. It was
truly an awe-inspiring sight. We
found out later that my in-laws had considered buying property up on that
very hill.
Just
beyond is the Guilford
covered bridge, a bridge still drivable (though it made me quite nervous
doing so). The sun was beginning to
set, so I got some wonderful photos of the sun shining on the flowing river
below, rapids and stones dancing to the evening breeze.
Covered Bridge
and river near Guilford, Maine
We
visited Lake Wausekeag on the way back down, and
had a beautifully serene view of purpling clouds over a calm lake, some
silhouettes of branches and trees framing the vision. It was getting quite cool out, but we
explored some of the back roads around the camping areas, and then went
home for an evening meal of leftovers from the wonderful repast from the
night before.
Lake Wausekeag, Maine
Tuesday, August 14th:
We woke
up early, breakfasted, and went into Corrina to buy some fresh grown
vegetables at the local farm stand.
We picked up Maine
new potatoes, corn, some maple sugar candy (gotta feed that sweet tooth!)
and other various things. We brought
them home and decided to go exploring near Skowhegan for the day. I was beginning to notice the definite
preponderance of broken down buildings – be they working farms or
stores, houses or barns – and the tendency for the average Mainer to
sell anything it can to get buy. I
saw junk sales on the lawn, stores offering lobster, auto repair, bait, and
massage in the same establishment. I
noticed many small farms selling off excess produce, and antique stores at
every corner. I realize that Maine has a pretty
heavy unemployment problem, but this seemed more a show of strength in the
face of adversity than desperation.
Or was it? Could these folks
move somewhere else if they wished, or were they stuck here by finance and
family?
Random horse eating dinner
We
ended up in Waterville
at a Chinese buffet for lunch, and stuffed ourselves silly. We headed back home and decided to call
Geek Squad to find out the diagnosis on our sick friend.
Geek
Squad basically said (after first telling us it would take 4 days to do
diagnostics) that it was screwed, both the hard drive and the memory. Lovely.
This was after calling several times, and one clerk said he
couldn’t find the computer because their system was down. Jason told them to physically look for
it, and he found it in less than 10 seconds. Love that customer service.
Well,
this meant an investment in a new laptop.
We went back into Bangor,
picked up our damaged lifeline, and went comparing new ones. This was not an expense I had counted
on! However, we found a good one,
and decided to do some research on it when we got home (we’re not
that stupid). We had dinner at Olive
Garden in Bangor,
and while the food was good, it was nothing spectacular. Of course, what do you expect at a
chain? The breadsticks and the
sangria were the best parts J
Random odd sight in Maine
After
researching the internet for information on this model, it looked like a
good deal, so we called Bangor
– the only model they had was on the floor. So we called another Best Buy in Auburn, they had
plenty (because there wasn’t a floor model – go figure). So, we planned to go there the next
day. There were several days of
vacationing getting taken over here by computer problems. Sigh.
Such is our slavery to the electronic age, I suppose.
I think
I should be composing a ballad in honor of the dead laptop.
Wednesday, August 15th:
We
headed into Auburn
for the new computer this morning – a rather overcast day, but
nonetheless nice for its cool weather.
We had to call for an address, as the GPS couldn’t find it
right away, but find it we did. We
bought it, and took it out to the car – where Jason had to take
everything out, hook up the battery, and play with it a little first. Ostensibly this was to check that all was
in working order – but I know he was just itching to get his hands on
it and play. Boys and their toys.
We took
the scenic route home, via Skowhegan, and decided to (finally!) try a small
local place for lunch. We found a
place called the Old Mill Pub on the GPS, and it was in a neat spot, right
next to the river. I had a chicken
pannini; Jason had a club – good food, nice atmosphere, but a trek up
rickety little stairs for the upstairs tables. The table next to us housed a family
vacationing from the Isle of Man.
Cool old truck for sale
Back at
home, I did some research on the costs of the ferry from Bar Harbor to Yarmouth, and
discovered to my horror how expensive it would be to transport four adults
and one pickup truck - $1100! Wow,
that was incredibly expensive for our budgets, so we decided to look into
driving overland instead. I remember
doing research for the ferries in Scotland, and they are MUCH
cheaper.
I went
out for a drive by myself that afternoon.
Often I will see things I want a picture of, but feel foolish asking
Jason (or whoever else is driving) to pull over to get a shot. Trying to shoot out of a moving car is
very difficult, even with fast exposure, and 4 out of 5 shots are worthless
when that’s done. So I drove
up through Corinna, Dexter and Dover-Foxtrot again, and went back to the
covered bridge for some brighter shots.
I found old crumbling barns, houses draped in Americana, graceful horses and beautiful
fields of wildflowers. There truly
is a sublime beauty to Maine
in the summer, and I am very glad I came.
On my
way to Canaan for more of such pictures, I
conceived an idea for a new book, about the American Dream. How we are both desperate and ambitious,
two sides of the same coin.
Old shack
I went
home for Jason’s home-cooked dinner, with fresh corn, new potatoes
and barbecued pork steak. Yum! I am so glad to be married to someone who
can not only cook, but cook well. It
is truly a blessing.
Thursday, August 16th:
Up
early early early! Crack of dawn, here
we come! I was up at a quarter to 5
to trek up to Moosehead Lake. I wanted to see a moose, and this was the
best chance I had, so off we went.
Of
course, we could have been driving right next to entire herds of moose and
not known it for much of the trip up – the fog was thick, the
pre-dawn light was dim, and the world was quiet in a shroud of cold white
and grey.
We
headed up the road to Greenville,
a trip of about 1.5 hours. We saw
chipmunks, rabbits, logging trucks, and moose tracks, but no moose. We saw bear crap (yum) and some
incredibly beautiful spots, but no moose.
The moose were definitely avoiding me, the fools. I would immortalize them, make them
famous, put them on the cover of a book, but noooo – they had to be
coy and play hard to get. Bah.
We
drove up Sias Way
and Golden Road,
and I discovered what a truly bad road can do to your kidneys. There were craters in this road larger
than some swimming pools. It made me
truly wish I was an A cup, the rattling and bouncing was so painful. However, we found ourselves exploring up
logging roads, seeing crystalline lakes and verdant mountains around us, it
was worth it.
Cool pattern in wood
High-tech signage, Maine style
We went
to an area called Lake Caribou, drove past Mount Ketahdin (tallest
mountain in Maine) and along the Penobscot River.
There were lots of vacationers kayaking, fishing, camping, and just
hanging out. The views were
impressive, though the clouds kept threatening us with occasional showers. We then discovered that breakfast was a
long time ago, and our blood sugar needed an injection of food – so
we were thrilled to find a campground with a small refectory. The shop was called
“Pray’s”, and I saw several of these around Maine. A sweet old lady (who rather resembled
the moose we were so futilely searching for) apologized for having to
charge so much for beef jerky. We
found a nice place to watch the river rafter’s race down the river,
and then found ourselves in Bangor
again for lunch. We were tired and
beat up from our rides down the logging roads, so we stopped at a safe
place for lunch – Wendy’s.
Having tried to find another of Jason’s long-ago haunts, Pizza
Dome, we found an empty building instead.
We drove home after lunch and took a much needed nap before dinner.
River Rafters
The
whole family headed to a seafood restaurant in Newport for dinner, called
Angler’s. This must be a
popular place, as it was quite crowded, but their food was delicious. We had my sister-in-law’s daughters
with us as well, and the youngest, Charity, ordered smelts. She calls them ‘the bony
things’, and loved them (she’s 8, I think). I had fried oysters and clams, and great
clam chowder. The bread pudding,
however, left much to be desired – it was more like unsweetened bread
mush. L
Friday, August 17th:
We woke
early (though not as early as yesterday, thank the gods!) and had some
biscuits and blackberry jam for breakfast – my brother-in-law makes
great biscuits. I spent the morning
helping my mother-in-law with some much-needed laundry, and hung around the
house a bit. Jason decided to make
some clam chowder for dinner, so we went to pick up more potatoes and fresh
seafood, including some steamer clams.
Well, we ended up eating those for lunch instead, and Charity (the
8-year-old) joined us. She
didn’t even have a problem peeling the skins off.
I really didn’t like driving behind this guy
We went
for some ice cream at a local place, the Lake Shore Restaurant, right
between two lakes in Dexter. Saw
lots of people well tanned from a summer of sun. It’s very odd – Floridians
don’t tend to tan much, because they realize the power of the Florida sun, and
stay healthy by staying out of it.
In Maine,
the sun is so much weaker, there is little danger in getting toasty brown
much of the summer. Ironic,
isn’t it?
We had
a delicious chowder for dinner, and went to bed for an early day. Tomorrow we are planning on driving to Acadia National Park
and Bar Harbor.
Saturday, August 18th:
Well,
we got as far as Bangor,
and realized that it was simply pouring.
Even if we could see well, any photos I would get would be
terrible. We reluctantly headed back
to the house for some home time, and decided we would go when we get back
from next week’s trip to Nova
Scotia.
We had
lunch in Dexter with Jason’s Uncle Jimmy and his wife Holly, and my
father-in-law. The pizza was quite
good, which surprised both Jason and me.
There are many House of Pizzas throughout Maine, but it isn’t a chain
– simply the name many people choose to give their local pizza
restaurant.
Back
home again we watched some television and did some true relaxing. We also researched our ferry/driving
options for Nova Scotia, and decided that it would be better to drive up to
Nova Scotia, stay a night in Moncton, and take the ferry from Digby to St.
John on the way back. This way we
could visit with my mother-in-law’s Uncle Raymond in Moncton, and save a
good bit of cash. It would be a lot
of driving, but everyone insisted that was fine.
Sunday, August 19th:
We woke
up early to get on the road, as it was a long drive to Moncton.
However, we ended up getting on the road around 8:30am, which was
pretty good. Breakfast was at Tim
Horton’s, and gave us the caffeine fix to get through the drive.
We
drove to Bangor via I-95, and took Route 9
to Calais
(border). Most of this route was
simply trees, trees, and more trees.
However, the occasional isolated village or roadside stop broke up
the monotony and offered some interesting insight into the area.
We
stopped for lunch near Alexander at a roadside restaurant called
“Nooks and Crannies”.
Though we waited a long time for lunch (there was a large party who
arrived just before us), the food was good.
My in-laws each had Greek salads and souvlaki, I had a burger, and
Jason had fried clams. They had some
interesting decorations about the place, such as a half of a boat built
into the corner of the house.
Nooks and Crannies, Alexander, Maine
It took
about an hour to get through the line at Calais to the border guard, and through
Customs. Since we hadn’t been
to Canada
in a while, our car was searched, but everyone was nice and quick about it,
no harm. Politeness goes a long way,
on both sides. As we pulled away and
out of the town, Jason and I started singing… “Our country
reeks of trees…” with apologies to Ren and Stimpy.
We took
Route 1 up to St. John,
and stopped by Ossie’s for some ice cream on the way. They had good soft serve, and it really
hit the spot. It wasn’t warm
out, but the sun was strong in a cloudless blue sky, and it felt good to
stretch the legs.
Random fake lighthouse
We
discovered that our phones all changed times just before we crossed the
border, as that part of Canada
is on Atlantic Time, rather than Eastern Time. It changed back and forth a couple times,
so there must have been dueling cell phone towers, battling it out. Our cell phones all now said ‘Rogers’, so that
is evidently the local telecom giant.
We
drove up to Moncton
and found our hotel thanks to the GPS.
It was a Best Western I found through Hotels.com (http://book.bestwestern.com/bestwestern/productInfo.do?propertyCode=64007),
and Uncle Raymond and Aunt Nancy met us there. They had us follow us to the other side
of town(s) for dinner at one of their favorite restaurants, Le Paysan. Wonderful seafood and steaks, much more
food than I could finish! Uncle
Raymond is a hoot; I liked him a lot – full of fun and life, even in
his 80s.
We went
back to the hotel after dinner, pooped after a long day of highway hypnosis
and cramped leg muscles. My in-laws
have a Ford F-250, and it is very roomy, but sitting for 8 hours in the day
still cramps you up some. The hotel
beds were dead hard, and none of us got great sleep.
Monday, August 20th:
Today
we travel to Halifax. We wandered around a bit, looking for a
drug store in vain. We did find a
topless dancing place next to a Catholic School – no wait, no lines,
come right in! Armed with our GPS
(changed to a man’s voice for variety) we headed on – and on
– and on. Straight highway,
lots of trees. I thought there were
lots of trees in Maine,
I really did. Ren & Stimpy
weren’t kidding when they said Canada reeked of trees. Each hill we crested I imagined would
show Halifax
in front of us – and at each hill I was disappointed. It sure doesn’t SEEM like that long
of a drive when you are looking at it on a map. I stand humbled and corrected L We almost
broke the GPS – we tried to calculate the route to Halifax, but had it in ‘avoid
highway’ mode. Well, there is
no way to avoid highways to get to Halifax,
not over the land bridge. It froze,
we had to reset it.
We
stopped at Tim Horton’s again for breakfast (go figure) in Amherst, and
discovered that they use jet engines instead of hand dryers in the ladies
room. I had to struggle to keep my
hands under it! But it dried me off
quickly.
We
stopped at one town off the highway to get gas, and had a lovely drive
across the swamp to get there. The
river beds were low, and the mud looked like it would be alligator
heaven. Luckily, it’s a bit
chilly up here for such creatures.
Put it in Florida
and you would have a swamp party.4-+
As we
got closer to Halifax,
we saw more farms than trees, but such big farms they were! We weren’t talking the little
family farms of Maine,
but large industrial farms with 4 or 5 silos, acres and acres of land, big
nasty tangled farm equipment at every corner. Definitely a bread basket area.
When we
got to Halifax,
we went over the scary bridge (well, scary to our driver) and made the
mistake of listening to the GPS rather than following the map. The blue line, we have discovered, is
much more accurate than the spoken voice, and this is of great importance
when navigating around the wharf in Halifax. One run red light later, we found the
Marriott Harbourside, and were delighted (and relieved we made it in one
piece). I found this hotel via
Priceline for $75 a night, and it was great. The lobby was clean and beautiful; it was
right on the water, next to great little touristy shops and
restaurants. The rooms were
spacious, and oh, the beds were so heavenly soft and comfy. Especially after the monk-like pallets of
the night before. Bliss! (http://www.marriott.com/hotels/travel/yhzmc-halifax-marriott-harbourfront-hotel/)
They
couldn’t fit the big truck in their normal parking garage, so we were
asked to park in the receiving area.
Odd that, you wouldn’t think a pickup truck too tall, but
there it was. Perhaps they
haven’t yet caught on to America’s
love affair with SUVs in Canada. Or, at least in Nova Scotia.
We
settled into our rooms, and picked a place for lunch from the information
left in our rooms by the hotel. I
finally got a ‘local’ place, at my insistence, but mainly
because it was within walking distance.
We really didn’t want to venture out with the car again if we
didn’t have to, as the hotel is on a one-way access street, and
difficult to find again.
We
chose O’Carroll’s (http://www.ocarrolls.com/),
an Irish-style pub, for lunch – it was about a block away from the
hotel. It was a charming place with
nice old ironwork on the radiators and tables. Jason and I had a wonderful
steak-and-kidney pie, not so great calamari, and the in-laws both had
salmon. I finally got my
long-awaited pint of cider, and loved it.
We had dessert (divine!) and chatted with the staff about live music
that night.
We
wandered around the market shops near the wharf for some touristy
shopping. I picked up several post
cards for gifts to my co-workers, and saw a pirate ship launch from the
quay. There were several local
artists selling their wares, lots of shoppers and diners at the food court,
and boats skipping across the harbor – from tugboats from a
children’s show to pirate ships.
Ahoy!
We
decided to go explore Peggy’s Cove after lunch, so off we go into the
arms of a spiteful GPS. Apparently
my mother-in-law drives too fast to allow the GPS to recalculate after her
wrong turns, and it led us on a merry chase through the heart of traffic-filled
Halifax
during rush hour. While the street
we were stuck on was quite pretty with lovely Victorian houses, we were
much relieved when it released us from its grip and deposited us on the
highway out of town. I believe the
street was Connaught Street,
ironic as I know the lonely, rolling moors of Connaught in Ireland
is quite different from this distinctly urban area.
It was
a nice one-hour drive to Peggy’s Cove, full of twisty, turny roads
achingly reminiscent of Irish coastal roads. There were small fishing villages strung
along the road like a string of pearls, each one with quaint plastered all
over it. We even passed one road
called ‘Round Tuit’. As
we got closer to the lighthouse, we drove through an area where it was
patently obvious glaciers had visited – and deposited its load of
boulders on rolling hills. It
definitely reminded me of the west coast of Ireland, with miles of boulders
among green pastures. The Irish dig
up the rocks and make fences out of them to allow the land to be used. The Canadians evidently just leave them
where they are and fish instead.
Peggy’s Cove
When we
arrived at the fishing village that housed the lighthouse called
Peggy’s Cove, we were amazed at the extent of the boulders on the
shore, and resolved to climb them.
Charity would have had a blast, climbing to and fro – we would
likely have never found her again, lost in the white endless maze of rock.
Peggy’s Cove
Jason
used the binoculars to whale-watch (he saw one spume of water in the
distance), while I concentrated on not falling (again in the sandals
– I don’t learn) and catching dramatic shots of the area
without too many people in it. The
clouds behind the lighthouse were wispy, and made it look like there was smoke
coming from the top of the lighthouse.
With the sun beginning to set behind, it made for dramatic
silhouettes. The cries of the
seagulls and the crash of the waves drowned out the jabber of tourists on
that lonely outpost.
Peggy’s Cove
I
wandered down to the village for some more interesting photographs while
everyone relaxed for a while.
Evidently I had the right idea, as several other photographers also
came down to take similar shots.
There must have been about a dozen of us at one point; great minds
think alike. Then we got back in the
car and reversed our route to Halifax. We giggled again at ‘Round
Tuit’ road, and opined on what it would be like to retire to this
area. As beautiful as it is,
I’d likely go batty pretty quickly with so little to do.
Peggy’s Cove
Kittens lounging in the sun near Peggy’s Cove
Peggy’s Cove
We were
going to have dinner at the hotel pub, but the fare looked very staid and
uninviting, so it took not much persuasion to convince the group to head to
O’Carroll’s again for some dining adventure. Lunch had been a bit pricy, but dinner
was even more so. There was some
live music, but nothing wonderful – the same set of popular songs
I’ve heard over and over, done not much better than our local medieval
group bardics. However, the dinners
were delicious. I had the salmon
with chili maple sauce; it was incredibly savory and delicious.
It had
been a long, tiring day full of driving and climbing, exploring and running
red lights, and we all went to a deep sleep in our heavenly pillow-top
beds… sigh!
Tuesday, August 21st:
We woke
fairly early, but decided not to go exploring the Citadel this morning as
we had originally planned. We did
discover that last night’s dinner was charged four times on the
credit card. However, the waitress
had said she’d had some problems getting the charge through –
hopefully the three bogus charges will drop away. (They did the next day)
We
stopped for gas around the Shubanacadie
Canal, and grabbed
something to eat at our mainstay, Tim Horton’s. We took the more scenic southern, coastal
route to today’s destination, Pictou.
There were countless beautiful coves, lakes, and lots of roadwork
and orange barrels to break up the scenic monotony. Monotony, you say? Yes, monotony. There are only so many picturesque coves
and trees you can see until you say:
Nay! Enough!
Lobster traps in Nova Scotia
We had
lunch at a small roadside diner called ‘Your Home Away From
Home’ which was also a motel.
The chowder was incredibly good (had mushrooms) but the lunch and dessert
was merely acceptable; burgers and lemon pie. The setting was nice, right on the river,
with hummingbirds visiting the feeder while we waited. The owner also told my mother-in-law all
about Cape Breton Island, and how we
needed to visit in September and October during the Festival of the
Colors. Evidently this is when the
leaves change color, and the normal tourists have gone home. Those that are left are invited into people’s
houses for ‘kitchen rackets’ and ‘frolics’, dancing
and singing. People hop from place
to place all evening long, throughout the festival. Sounds like grand fun to me, anyone else
care to join us? Not this year,
though.
We
headed north across country and made it to Pictou around 5pm, despite
efforts by GPS to misdirect us. I
was a bit apprehensive when the street of the B&B didn’t show up
in the GPS, but I should have saved my worry – we found the street
very close to the harbor, and went up to our rooms - on the third
floor. Oh, my aching knees! My father-in-law and husband’s
knees were complaining as well, I could hear them. However, we settled in, chatted with our
warm and friendly hosts (Debby and Jamie MacLean) and got a recommendation
for dinner at the Salty Sea Restaurant.
(The B&B was called the Willow House Inn; www.willowhouseinn.com)
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