Canadian Goodbye

St Stephens to Home

Breakfast Report:
Tidy done-up breakfast room, with real plates and mugs - labeled recycle bins ( in rooms as well). I never knew that Wonder bread made so many products. The “English muffins” were the strangest - essentially toughish bread in the shape of an English muffin. I can’t imagine what their bagel tasted like.
Country music on radio station. In fact in New Brunswick in particular, there were a lot of country music stations. Hank Snow (if you're old enough to remember) is from Nova Scotia. There were a lot of French stations in Digby area. Gaelic music stations on Cape Breton. And I've got to find out about those Baptists.

We seemed to be the first to leave motel. And Mott had been slamming car doors since 6 , looking for that one forgotten item that customs would seize upon. Gone the tomatoes, the boudin blanc. Then I added a few slams ( Cruiser doors good for dramatic slamming) of my own, and we imagined people turning over in their beds saying “Will those people just leave!”

No one at customs – he took my word for the fact that there was no dirt on my potatoes, bought in a store. Last chance to see a moose across a backroad to Bangor. Alas!

Mott had set up a fishing appointment with Jimmy before we got to Bangor.

There is no place like home.

Digby and the Fundy coast at low tide

Time for the little guys

Dead low

Stirring up the mud

Just making it !

Heading Back

Digby to St. Stephens

Breakfast Report: The only place open – Just a Little Bit of Heaven, bakery and restaurant. And maybe there was a bit of heaven in the hearty wheat bread.

It was cloudy and cold and windy, so we nixed spending another day and booked a ferry from Digby to St. Johns. 3 –hour trip vs. 7 + hours driving. We missed the dramatic Fundy tides as the inlet narrows, but did get a taste of it in Digby, where the fishing boats at the dock dropped some 30 feet below the pier.

We found a town we would go back to – Annapolis Royal – the oldest town in Canada (I think), founded in 1602 by Champlain. But the English wrested the town from the French , in one of their many political tug of wars. A later French governor founded Port Royal nearby. We stumbled onto a Farmer’s market – organic, I think this trend well entrenched. Pottery, woodcarving, natural wool skeins, angora, and the last of the seasons veggies plus apples and several bakeries with croissants and baguettes. Potato pancake and smoked sausage vendors. There is a German influence in this area. There are many houses from the 1700’s – then the 1800’s, the photo of a B&B The Queen Anne. The town seems to have a craft bent,

We considered whale watching – this is supposed to be one of the best areas along the Atlantic. A Scottish couple touring told us how fabulous their trip was, but we passed on it.

Then one last fish meal at the restaurant in the fish market. Nix on the FF – but the fish cakes were good, a lot of potato, but fishy too. We arrived in St Johns at 5:30 and realized we wouldn’t make it to Bangor. But the race was on to make it to the border - while driving into the blazing low sun, and before dusk and moose-time. So here we are in St Stephens (our fish and chip mecca) and the only place in town to eat was the Esso station. We thought a landlubbers meal the better option – hot turkey and steak sandwich. ..and I must say it tasted good.

We are in yet another simple motel with rates that seem improbably high. This is a AAA 2-diamond - $104 and we have paid up to $135 for similar places. We are surprised at how expensive things are – especially lodging, but food as well. But I guess in these far-flung provinces, it is to be expected.

The people are cheerful and polite and welcoming with lots of red heads in their ranks. I love that a comment on the weather is a code for hello, to be continued or not.

Next time: I would stay in one of the inns with a restaurant on a remote coast for several days. We had the names of a couple of these, but it didn’t work out. I would also explore more of the South Coast , east side and around to the Acadian area on the southwest coast. I would also spend some time in St Johns ,New Brunswick and some of the inland towns.

Annapolis Royal

Fishcakes Nova Scotian style

Dinner at the Esso Station

It's back to the USA!

East Coast to West Coast

Day 6 – Fisherman's Cove to Digby

Breakfast Report: Basic continental in B&B, watching the weather channel, amplified by the innkeeper’s weather tales of the year.

We looped into Halifax early in the day – didn’t stop – but pretty residential areas, frame houses of every hue, adjacent to downtown and a very busy port. South thru gentle hills to Mahone Bay where we lucked into a little organic farmer’s market. French Bread, almond patisserie, smoked salmon, tomatoes and cucumber. And that was lunch on the boot of the car.

Lunenberg a UNESCO protected town is very pretty – if a little done up. Too many gift and craft shops. But the architecture of the early 1800’s is very particular and winsome. The English were trying to populate the area and invited protestant Germans, Swiss, French and Scandinavians. And I think the style is a sort of blend of these cultural influences.

In general, the ethnic origins of Nova Scotia residents seem to be illustrated by the prevailing church denominations and they vary throughout the island. From a preponderance of Presbyterian churches on Cape Breton Island to Baptist churches along the south shore. I think I’ve seen one Methodist church. Many Anglican churches everywhere, and Catholic churches in the French areas. Jehovah’s Witness congregations surprisingly widespread.

CBC has some interesting programming – and it really does give you a feel for the issues of the country. Continuing with the I-Pod - with the “real” story of Columbus and his explorations – not very pretty in total. He did have good navigational skills – but terrible colony management abilities – and his morals were questionable – as was his delusionary view of the world.

Digby is known for their scallops, available all year – sea scallops . What restaurant to sample them in?….the one in the fish market on the wharf, the locals favorite, an upscale traditional (AAA rec…heavens, not) or the new trendy café – whose menu sounded like they could maybe cook. We went to the locals favorite – wrong choice – I had corn as a vegetable. The scallops were the same as what I can buy on the Cape, but I don’t overcook them. No photos…end of story.

But we are in a great room, downtown – dockside (0ver a restaurant, quiet this time of year) with balcony and watched the fishing boats come in and the tide go out. This is the Bay of Fundy with tremendous tides –tho nothing like those farther up the bay where the channel narrows. Digby gets plenty of tourists, but still seems like a real working town. Pirates operated off this coast in the 1700’s , and did very well for themselves.

Canadians: I don't think they watch much TV other than the weather channel. Very kind and helpful - a car pulled up next to us as we were reading a map and wanted to help

Lunenberg

Digby

Prince Edward and Cape breton

Such Nice People

Day 5 – Cheticamp to Fisherman’s Cove, nr. Halifax

Breakfast Report : Trying. The Acadian place wasn’t open until later, so we drove and drove, hoping to find something. Finally we spread out our languishing picnic fare. Quite OK. We had bought a PEI aged cheddear cheese – and it exceeded expectations – crumbly like an English cheddar and with a very different flavor than premium American cheddar. And the garden tomatoes and bread were top-notch.

What year is it?








The only moose I saw

Beautiful early light bathing Cheticamp and all its well-groomed little houses, lawns and boats. Mott thinks they all decide to mow their grass on the same day at the same time. We hadn’t gone very far down the west coast and we were out of Acadialand – signs in Gaelic, and less pristine properties. This coast is more open to the water, more small communities and small fishing harbors. And fewer trees.

Longish drive to Halifax area – but didn’t want the city hassle of finding a hotel there, so went to Fisherman’s Cove, 15 minutes down the peninsula to a small Inn (B&B) right on the docks. Atmospheric…an oh-so-nice hostess. Active fishing community unloading mackerel – lobster season here starts in a few more weeks (I guess they are trapping lobster on another corner of the island). Bluefin tuna is the prey of the season – big ones.

CBC entertained us for awhile . reminded that some of their political issues not that different from ours – their First Nations population maybe more combative than ours. Then we launched into “A Voyage Long and Strange” – some indepth stories of the superficial and often very wrong facts that Americans have come to accept as their founding history. Starting with….America was known well before Columbus lucked into Plymouth.

We bundled ourselves (its coolish) and sat on the B&B deck eating pickled local herring and California (wrong!) wine. Mott packed oyster knives and glove in hopes of finding oysters – but when we were near the famous Malpeque? field in PEI, they had closed the beds due to weather/red tide/something. We did find some in Sharkey’s – yeh – appropriately named – that were not as good as our homely local Waquoit Bay oysters. And now we are in different waters.

Dinner – a lesson in discernment. We chose the not known for fish and chips (big batter we were told) place on the wharf, for a done-up generic place…that we later discovered was AAA – UGH…had we have known . It is in the fishing cove, but buy their fish from a wholesaler in Halifax. I had said I wanted whatever fish came into the wharf that day. We knew we were doomed. And with tiger shrimp (very unlocal) on the menu I was having ever-deepening regrets. Halibut chowder tasted of flour and cream – potatoes provided texture . Period. Added salt and lots of pepper – still I was eating floury cream gravy with lumps in it. And it harbinged the shared hot seafood Caesar salad – red pepper s and onion galore – could determine no real seafood taste – those Tiger shrimp, a scallop and shreds of something fishy. The puffy rolls were at least 3 days old – and the butter tasted stale as well. The local Jost wine was just fine. The view was first-rate with a purple sunset. But I hope that is the worst meal I will eat…and I will rant no more.

Canadian pulse: weather is a big thing – and is the code for a greeting – “Isn’t this a nice day!?!” Weather reports pasted to reception desks, if the weather channel not on. People are very lovely and cheerful ..and gentle.

Oh Canada, Quebec Livre (mllg)

I have been reluctant to write anything about Canada since I left the Cape because quite frankly I have been underwhelmed. I don’t want to offend my Canadian friends, but my route, has revealed not much more than I can see on the Cape (trees, trees and an occasional glimpse of water).

Today we left Chettticamp on Cape Breton Island and drove a nice coastal road where I would like to own a couple of ocean front acres to retire on; beautiful country and wonderful views with a tidy port.

The one thing that is particularly noticeable in Canada is where the French speaking people live. I can now drive down the road and point out a French speaking house and when I drive through a French speaking village it is so obvious it brings me to attention.

The French speakers all mow their grass (perfectly at 8 am on Saturday morning), their houses are pristine clean, there is never junk in the yard, their landscaping is immaculate and you know the houses are as clean and well maintained inside as out.

Drive two miles down the road and you can spot English speakers. You can see Cape Cod or almost any other Canadian/US village. Trash in the yard, weeds (like mine), a house in need of repair and a lout (like me ) in a pickup truck drinking a bud light.

Why is this? Is it just that the French are neat and clean or are they trying to show somebody something (the conniving bastards!). It must be part of the Quebec livre campaign that de Gaulle started.

I don’t know the answer but if I emigrate to Canada, you can bet I will locate in a French speaking area, I just hope they will let me in. Merci beaucoup and cheers.

Baddeck to Cheticamp in the Drizzle

Day 4 – Baddeck to Cheticamp

Breakfast Report: The Silver Dart Inn - beautiful oatcakes and good, strong coffee – served in a sunlit room with a water view. What more do you want?

Scenic drive ahead, small fishing villages , and many a National Park picnic spot. Maybe picnic supplies a good idea. A baguette and some smoked halibut pate?? But whoops… we are in Celticland – the wonderful bakery had hearty loaf breads and muffins, but baguettes? “we don’t do those.” Although, up the east coast of Cape Breton, we found a boudin blanc, white sausage, and local pickled herring. The road was pretty much hemmed in by trees, so glimpses of the water only occasional.

I think we are treed out!

There were many arts and crafts establishments, and gift shops selling Celtic wares. And every other person had a B & B. You do wonder how people manage to make a living. And then it started to mist. The red rocky coastline was inviting, the weather not cooperating. We decided to go just one more harbor before laying out the spread on the dashboard. And there was the little Chowder House, in tiny McNeils Harbor which was full of boats and traps.

Seafood chowder was Gre-at, with a lot of potato, my crab burger – was only crabmeat (sweet and delicate) and mayo on a plain ole hamburger bun, that didn’t do it justice. But the French fries were marvelous. Next time…. And the picnic? There is always tomorrow.

We climbed up, over and down dramatic mountains in the gloom, with the sea below – and reached Cheticamp, an Acadian town, where the signs are in French and you hear French spoken. There is a crafts co-op known for their wool rug-hooking. The local women dye the wool themselves and work on their projects individually as a cottage industry. The English spoken had an unusual intonation – a French-speakers English.

A small fishing village, Cheticamp has known prosperity when potash was found the beginning of the 20^th century. The community flourished for awhile, but the arrival of WW 2 brought the industry to an end. There is a beautiful stone church soaring over all. The votives were sparkling like jewels.

Laurie’s Motor Inn is still in the…maybe 70’s….rubber plugs in sink and tub (as were last night’s). They work very well.

And the clouds broke to allow a sunset.

And then: Dinner

Where? I think we made the right decsion – lowkey place – Hometown Kitchen Restaurant.

Crab dinner. And learned some interesting things – the lobster and crabs seasons are very limited, and vary according to the region of the island. Lobster season here May 1 (if ice is gone) to July 1. Assuming this is about conservation.

Someone said – “when there is a will, there is a way.”