The Great Escape from Grand Manan

Julie and I woke the next morning at a very chilly, ungodly hour. We bundled into as many layers as we could, and emerged from the van, pleased to find that the gas smell had dissipated. We rushed over to a dock that looked rather busy, and found our whale watching tour. The boat was somewhat small, but fit about 15 passengers all eager to see some whales in their natural habitat. I was extremely excited myself. There have been very few things on this trip that I have insisted on doing, but whale watching was certainly one of them!

The captain of the boat did a mini safety demonstration before informing us that if we didn’t see any whales today, he wouldn’t charge us for the trip out. “Oh and there’s a free first coffee, tea, or hot chocolate for anyone who wants one. Seconds are a dollar each,” he added before assuming his spot and setting out for the open ocean. Content with the trip so far, Julie and I took the time to get comfortable, grab a hot chocolate, and relax as the Atlantic slipped by.

About an hour in, the captain’s first mate announced that we were in prime whale watching territory. Suddenly, a great spout of frothy water launched into the air. It came from quite a ways away, but all the passengers, myself included, leapt to the railing of the boat to catch a better glimpse of the elusive whale. We saw a few more spouts off in the distance, and the captain directed his boat in chase, hoping to get us even closer.

Example of a Finback whale. We saw a lot of these guys.

We whale watched for a good three hours and saw several different members from a pod of finback whales, as well as a handful, at the very end of the trip, of humpbacks, my favourite kind of whale. It was a wonderful trip, and while I didn’t take any photos, I will remember the awe I felt just watching such large, powerful creatures slipping in and out of the waves.

Example of what we saw of the humpback whales.

Back on shore, Julie and I returned to the van feeling quite hungry. We decided to drive down to a little provincial park we’d seen the night before and have ourselves a picnic. We set ourselves up at a picnic table right by the ocean. This time it glittered with the warmth of the sun instead of the cold of the moon’s silvery light. Everything in Grand Manan looked so much more cheery and safe in the daylight than it did the night before!

We ate salad for lunch and when we were finished, Julie suggested we stay and relax for a little while. So we unpacked our camping chairs, pulled out our books and our sunscreen, and read for the next three hours. At some point, I decided to get up and do the dishes, and I packed them all away in the van. Then I asked Julie, “What time did that man who followed us last night say the ferry left?” “Three o’clock.” “What time is it now…” “Twenty to three.” We looked at each other. A silent decision to hastily pack up and race for the ferry crossed between us, and then we were both bolting into the van, buckling our belts, starting up the beast, and powering down the dirt road to the highway as quickly as the speed limit would allow. Once on the highway, we were rolling at 80km/hour, but the fast-stretch didn’t last for long, falling into 50km/hour zones frequently. Julie and I both knew it was only 1/2 hour from one end of the island to the other, but we were not sure whether we would catch the ferry or not, and we were not willing to get a speeding ticket in order to do so.

Eventually I could see the ferry. It was docked, but I was sure it was preparing to pull away. We arrived at the gate, our adrenalin causing us to be a bit out of breath and fidgety. The lady at the gate was very pleasant with us. “Hi there, how can I help you?” “We’d like to get a ticket for the ferry please,” Julie answered. “Which ferry?” asked the woman. “Uhhh, preferably the 3pm ferry.” The woman looked at us, almost in disbelief. She glanced quickly at her watch and radioed the ferrymen. “Hi boys, do you have the doors shut yet, over?” she asked. “Not yet, over,” came the response. The woman shot us a sly smile. “Do you have room for one more vehicle, over?” “Yeah sure, send it in, over.” Julie and I glanced at each other. I fist pumped a little. I know, but it was just such an exhilarating moment.

“You girls are so lucky,” commented the woman as she rang through our ferry toll. “They usually have the doors closed already and are off at precisely 3:30pm.” “What time did we get here?” We asked her. “Three twenty nine exactly.” It was fate.

Elated by our successful dash for the ferry, Julie and I rewarded ourselves with some tea and a cup full of coffee-flavoured ice cream. Then we started reading our books when who should come and sit down with us, but the man from the truck the night before!

As I said earlier, the daylight changes everything, and it was the same case for this gentleman, whom we learned was nicknamed Beaver, after the character on the old show Leave it to Beaver. While I’d been terrified the night before that he’d possibly been a crazy psycho killer out to kidnap and murder us, my opinion 180’ed and I found that Beaver was actually a really kind, friendly, and interesting person. The three of us had a very nice chat about the whale watching among other things, and then he was off to attend to his duties since he worked on the ferry. I told Julie almost immediately what a nice guy I thought he was. I was a little ashamed I’d even thought he could be a serial killer. But I couldn’t help it the night before. I’m a bit of a freak of nature that way; I always think that I’m going to encounter an evil murderer and meet my doom.

Before the end of the ferry ride, Beaver joined us again, and we had another lovely chat. Julie and I both left the ferry, and Grand Manan Island, very pleased with the entire day, and most especially with the friendly and generous people we’d met.

-Nicole

Introduction to Grand Manan

Has anyone else ever heard of Grand Manan? Before this trip of ours, I personally hadn’t heard of it. But it is an island located off the Southish coast of New Brunswick, and it’s totally part of New Brunswick. Julie and I took the last ferry across that night, the 9pm ferry. The ride was an hour and a half, and by the time we got to Grand Manan, it was very dark out.

Allow me to set the scene for you: The island is dark, with very few street lights illuminating the roads. No houses or shops have their lights on. It feels like a ghost town. A large silver globe hangs in the starless sky, illuminating the icy waters that surround the dark, deserted island, reminding the residents and visitors of their inability to escape. The two young women in the light blue hippy van take their first right off the ferry, lacking a map or proper directions to lead them where they need to go: Seal Cove. The road leads to a very desolate part of town, one where the houses are vacant, with rags of old blankets hanging in the dark windows, lit only by the reflection of the moon on the dirty panes of glass. They women hastily turn around, lest there be any ghosts haunting the premises (a deep fear of Julie’s). They continue on one of the sole highways on the island, almost the only vehicle in the streets, almost.

The vague directions provided to them by the lady that owns the whale watching tours out of Grand Manan the young women follow as best they can. They look for a hill, as mentioned by the lady, a hill at the bottom of which will reveal a road that will lead to a free parking lot where the young women can park for the night. They drive slowly, and angry drivers pass by on their left. One vehicle doesn’t pass, so out of consideration, the young women pull over with their hazards on. To their dismay, because they are grumpy and a little nervous, the car slows as well, and pulls up cautiously beside them. In the car is a pleasant mother of two children who sit sleepily in the back seat. She asks if the young women need help. They answer, and she points them to the road they seek, then drives off into the night.

The young women turn left onto the road. They drive slowly, as the road is lit only by their headlights, but features many hills over which they cannot see. The road continues straight towards the coast for fifteen minutes, and opens to a very dark and empty parking lot. The lot is right by the ocean. The women can hear the waves lapping against the beach, but they cannot see them as the lot is surrounded by a thick covering of tall reeds. In fact, the reeds surround the entire, empty lot; a lot that exists so that hikers may park their vehicles to walk the trails along the beach; a lot that is nowhere near a house or shop, or any ear that may come to the rescue if necessary. The women decide the lot is probably a good place to get kidnapped and murdered by some freaky serial killer who waits for unsuspecting women to emerge from the late-night ferry, and so they turn back.

They drive on, into the night, passing Dark Harbour, Little Dark Harbour, Deep Cove Beach. Finally, a dimly lit harbour comes into view, and then they see it: a sign that reads Seal Cove. Relieved, they pull slowly into a parking lot situated right beside the harbour. They pull as tight as they can to the grass edging the gravel lot. They park the car, but do not turn off the ignition, discussing whether or not they might be towed from the area if they remain there, when they see a large black truck pulling around and then right up beside them. A man sits in the truck. He leans out the window, so the women open the driver’s side window to speak to the man. He asks if they are lost or in any sort of trouble. The women assure him they are fine. The conversation continues, and he reveals that he followed them from the ferry. The one woman is worried about this revelation since her friend has recently divulged that they are travelling alone. The conversation ends eventually, with confirmation from the man that the young women will most likely not be towed and a “good evening” from each side.

The women roll up their window and lock their doors. They snuggle the van in even closer to the grass hill beside the lot and then drop all the blinds. Upon entering the back of the van, they prepare for bed but they can’t help but notice a faint smell of gas. The smell strengthens when they climb into their soft, warm bed, and they panic a little about getting carbon monoxide poisoning, or getting sick from the gas fumes. One woman (Nicole) worries about the possibility of some freaky serial killer dumping gas on the van, planning to blow the women to pieces for mere pleasure. They decide to emerge from the van to check if there is a leak in their gas tank. This has the one woman worrying about being kidnapped or attacked once outside, but she goes out anyway, her companion following. They kneel beside the van but see no gas leak. The gas smell seems to come solely from inside the vehicle. They climb back in. Paranoid, they make a quick phone call asking about the gas smell and are reassured that it probably just comes from idling too long. They open all the windows, even though the outside is very cold, and they huddle under their sheets until sleep mercifully takes them away from their worries.

-Nicole

New Brunswick: Land of the Majestic Moose

I have to admit, we did not give New Brunswick a very good chance to impress us, but although we weren’t there long, our experience certainly turned out to be quite memorable! We drove into New Brunswick from Nova Scotia. We knew we’d crossed the border when the first thing we saw was a GIANT “Caution Moose” sign, complete with flashing lights. The thousands of pine trees helped too.

We drove to Moncton as our first New Brunswick stop. We got there fairly late, but we had a little raw veggies, cheese and crackers picnic in our van (in the VIA parking lot…we’d been hoping to steal free wifi), and we had a restful sleep. In the morning, we visited Magnetic Hill. I’ve been there before, but I don’t remember it being so touristy! They have a waterpark and everything now! Cloud 9 didn’t make it all the way up the hill, mostly because I stepped on the brakes on the way up because I couldn’t keep Cloud 9 straight while we were being “pulled” uphill. Lame, I know, but still an awesome experience. And to let you all know, the car after us, a TINY, easy-to-maneuver Echo or whatever, had to do the hill TWICE because he didn’t get up even close to half-way the first time. So I’d say I did a pretty decent job.

ANYWAY, right after Magnetic Hill (about 15 minutes all said and done) we high-tailed it out of Moncton and headed straight for the Hopewell Cape. We were there to walk the ocean floor, but we arrived in time for high tide instead. It was really neat watching the tide come in. It’s so quick! The tide rose 46 feet that day. Hopewell Cape boasts some of the highest tides in the world!

It was super cold while we were at the Hopewell Rocks. We cooked chicken noodle soup for lunch since we were waiting for the tide to go out, and we had a dessert of these crazy-intricate gummie animals on a stick. Mmmm…

Once 4pm rolled around, we went back into the park and down to the ocean floor. It’s a pretty awe-filling feeling to walk on the ocean floor. I was at the Hopewell Rocks once before when my friend Denise Cruickshank invited me to go on her family vacation to New Brunswick, but it wasn’t the same. I didn’t have the same appreciation for nature’s amazing ability to create such beautiful rock-sculptures…or her ability to work towards their complete destruction. The seaweed fascinated me too. It looked so much like plastic seaweed for a fish tank! I couldn’t get over it. I kept squishing the little air packs, to see what was in them. I’m weird, I know.

After we satisfied our curiosity on the ocean floor, Julie and I peeled out of the Hopewell Cape, destination: Grand Manan.

-Nicole

The Best the Island Has to Offer

As if PEI wasn’t cool enough, Nicole and I decided to improve the experience with a little alcoholic taste testing. This, at the request of a complete stranger.  Don’t tell the kiddies – but talking to strangers can result in some great things. For us, it was trying delicious beer. For you, it is this blog post.

You see, when searching for a place for a nice casual drink the stranger suggested that we try Gahan House, a brew pub famous for its seven unique beers. He also suggested we try the Tester Rail – a line of small glasses that provide a taste of each of the seven brews (as well as a bonus beer).

Below is a description and our verdict for each beer:

Sydney St Stout
Description: Dark, creamy and similar to a Guiness
Verdict: “Blegh”
Supporting Evidence: Too bitter, bad after-taste

The 1772 IPA
Description: Similar to your standard IPA, with a higher alcohol content
Verdict: “Hmm, tastes familiar”
Supporting Evidence: Fruity with a bit of bitterness, but it’s not overwhelming

Iron Horse Brown
Description: Brown Ale with a hint of chocolate
Verdict: “Meh”
Supporting Evidence: Unremarkable, but with a sweet caramelized after-taste/

Island Red (Julie’s Favourite)
Description: Standard Ale
Verdict: “Mmm!” and “Nice red flavour”
Supporting Evidence: Sweet at first, but mellows as the finish

Oyster White (Nicole’s Favourite)
Description: A white beer
Verdict: “Oh yeah!”
Supporting Evidence: Nice and smooth, like a better version of Ricard’s White

Harvest Gold
Description: Pale Ale
Verdict: “It’s beer…”
Supporting Evidence: Smooth but nothing special

Sir John A’s Honey Wheat Ale
Description: A honey ale
Verdict: “Uh…”
Supporting Evidence: No flavour. Tastes like water.

Bonus—Mixture of Sir John A and Horse Brown
Description: See name of mixture
Verdict: “Umm…”
Supporting Evidence: It’s alright, but by this point all beers blended together.

If ever you find yourself at Gahan House in Charlottetown, PEI, I hope you can use these meticulously detailed beer descriptions and comprehensible ratings to make the right choice for you!

-- Julie

Green Gables and Red Dirt

Warning: This post has not been edited. I apologize in advance for grammar and spelling mistakes.

If you haven’t guessed the location of this blog post, you fail. But just so no one falls behind, I will explicitly state that this is about our adventures in PEI. And bear with me, this is a LONG story.

Our PEI adventures begin in Nova Scotia – much like another famous story about a girl (brownie points for those of you who understand this). From Pictou, N.S. we boarded a ferry that took us to the island. The trip across was pretty relaxed as Nicole and I wrote our postcards and drank tea that had an odd lobster-y taste.

Once we landed on the island we decided that our first stop should be Lord Selkirk Provincial Park. We chose this destination because it was close and we could make our lunch there – baked beans and pea soup, yumm! Well, we intended to just make lunch, but we ended up doing much more. You see, they had a laundry facility, showers and very accommodating park attendees. So what started as a quick hour-long rest became an afternoon of cleaning up. I had never felt so clean…

As we waited for the laundry, we decided to explore the small park. This is where I discovered that PEI dirt is red, FOR REAL. I know, everyone knows that the dirt is red but I underestimated how red it would actually be. I was expecting regular brown dirt, with maybe a reddish tint. Nope. I was impressed.

RED DIRT!

Moving on…

Heading on toward Charlottetown, I tried to contact a friend that was working there at the university over the summer. Unfortunately, she never responded. Believing that I had the wrong number, Nicole and I just decided to stop at UPEI anyway for the free overnight parking. It was at this point that I realised God loves me.

Laura LOVED Cloud 9.

Not wanting to give up completely, we decided to walk to the residence to see if maybe she would be on some kind of registry. We didn’t get that far… because we ran into her on the way! It was such a flukey incident that I still can’t believe it happened. But I guess being a small island helped a bit… but the luck of it all gets better.  Laura’s job only gives her one day off a week, and we had showed up the day before her day off! So we were able to go drinking that night, and then go out to breakfast together. So lucky…

After breakfast with Laura, we headed off to make dreams come true by visit Green Gables. Now, you have to understand I have been stoked to see Green Gables since the early planning stages of this trip. Knowing how much I hyped the place in my mind, Nicole was worried that I would be a bit disappointed by what we were to see. But she didn’t need to worry…

It was awesome! Sure, the house wasn’t too exciting – looking very much like the heritage home I worked at in Ridgetown. But it was cool to see the rooms made up to look like they belonged to the various characters of the Anne of Green Gables story. And the grounds around the house were what really interested Nicole and I. On the land surrounding the house, they recreated famous paths like Lover’s Lane and the Haunted Woods. Those were a lot of fun.

And, to make it an authentic touristy place they had a gift shop with lots of kitschy goodness. Among the paraphernalia was Raspberry Cordial (again, brownie points if you get this). Of course, we had to try some.  So we bought a bottle and split it. It tastes like melted freezie. Kinda gross actually…

With Green Gables done, we  stopped at a place on the beach to pick up postcards and experience some of the famous PEI beaches. But it was a cold, grey day so we didn’t stay long. So we headed out to the town of Cavendish to cross one last “must do” on the list…

Cow’s ice cream. Apparently it’s the best in the world. Our verdict: it’s ice cream. But I must admit, they have awesome branding and some of their flavours are interesting, with pretty creative names. Unfortunately, none of them come to mind right now…

After ice cream, we headed for Confederation Bridge. But before I write about that, I have to tell you how gorgeous the province is. At this point, the sun began to peak out and the skies were blue. The island is very green, with all kinds of fields and trees. It’s very picturesque. And the rolling hills are a pain to drive on, but they add something to the beauty of the place.

The drive through the country was a great way to end our time on the island. It really left an impression on me. But all too soon we were at the bridge. (For anyone travelling to PEI, everything is close on the island.) I was actually pretty sad to be leaving the island. We’d barely been there 24 hours, and there was still so much that could have been explored and seen. Sure, it’s a tiny island, but I think it has a lot to offer. I’ll definitely be coming back…

Confederation Bridge

 The bridge was an experience on it’s own. Confederation Bridge, I believe, is the longest in the world. And it’s a bit unsettling to think that you are driving ON the Atlantic. But it was pretty cool. At the end of the bridge we drove onto New Brunswick where we had a whole new set of adventures awaiting us.

-Julie

Cape Breton: A Tale of Two Trails

Being about a week and a bit into the trip, Julie and I were certainly due up for some alone time and our Cape Breton experiences served to encourage this separation. The first night was great, although it was so cold that we could see our breath. I’m not sure how cold it has to be in order to see your own breath. Obviously above freezing, but that didn’t stop Julie and me from sleeping with our sweaters on that night.

We’d decided to splurge and stay at a campsite since we weren’t able to make it all the way to Cape Breton Highlands National Park. So the next morning, we made use of the camp facilities, taking turns to have a shower (only a day after our bath in the river!), and cooking ourselves a fantastic breakfast complete with pancakes, oranges, spam (yes father, I like spam! Jan Reid would be so proud of me! Hahahah), and tea. We were both in a pleasant enough mood, but then something happened (about which I am not able to speak, so don’t ask). Needless to say, we were both fuming afterwards—inwardly of course…outwardly we were short and passive-aggressive with each other, that is, if we spoke at all. We pretty much drove in silence the whole way to the park.

At our first campsite...

Once at the park, we started to test out the idea of separation with Julie going into the information building to figure out things, and me going to the bathroom. When she came back, I could tell she wasn’t in a great mood still. Neither was I, so it was okay. We grumbled with each other while we figured out our plans. We decided we would stay for the night and walk one or two trails before we’d settle in for supper. Once that was decided, I went with the parks person to fill up our water jug while Julie called her mother to wish her a happy birthday. Once back in the van, we drove to the campsite, and then further discussed things.

Initially, we’d both planned on doing the Skyline trail because, by the description on the map, it sounded really picturesque, with on opportunity to see moose, seals, and even whales. But when we got to the campsite, Julie took a look at the map and said, “I think you’re underestimating the distance between here and the Skyline, trail Nicole.” Having already set my mind to hiking the Skyline, I was a bit perturbed that Julie didn’t want to go anymore. The stubborn ass in me crept out at that moment, and I told Julie (nicely) that she didn’t have to come with me, but that I still wanted to do the trail. Since we’d already discussed potentially having some time off from each other earlier, we decided walking two different trails would probably be good for us. So we agreed to meet back up at 7:30pm and off I went.

Well, of course, Julie was right. The Skyline trail was WAAAAAY farther from our campsite than it looked on the map. And not only that, but it was at the top of a freaking mountain! This realization only fueled my ascent though, and I marched right up that mountain, all 455 meters of it, without even taking a break. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t too difficult a hike, but I suppose it helps when adrenaline and angry thoughts are acting as energy. Don’t get me wrong, not all these thoughts were about anything, or anyone, in particular…but you know how it is sometimes. Once you’re in a mood, it can be hard to direct your thoughts to pleasanter things. I did try though. I thought of the walk as burning off my negativity, and I couldn’t help but be amazed at the beauty around me. Cape Breton is certainly something to see for all those in love with nature.

View from the road to get to the Skyline

I also made some friends on the way up the mountain too: a small group of bikers. They chatted with me as they slowly (and I mean slowly…I was almost walking as fast as they were biking) pedaled up. I discovered that they were biking from Sydney (NS), all the way around Cape Breton, and back to Sydney. None were biking for anything but pleasure, but they were obviously fit. I only saw one of them walk his bike a little ways up the hill while he caught his breath.

The walk up didn’t seem very long, though when I looked at my cell phone, I was shocked to discover that it had taken me about an hour and fifteen minutes, but finally, there it was, the sign for the Skyline. And, as Julie had also told me, I still had another half an hour or so to go to get to the actual start of the trail. I’d only made it up the main road to where you could get out of your car to hike the Skyline. I walked this “pre-trail” bit in about 15. At this point, I was feeling worn out. I’d packed myself an apple because I knew I would need the sugar, so I ate that and drank lots of water. I never stopped walking though.

I was disappointed, but relieved at the same time, to find the trail pretty busy with people. The parks people at the information booth, as well as multiple signs throughout the park and trail, warned of the presence of coyotes, which could have only meant that they were more aggressive than your average Wile E. Coyote (Super Genius). So it was a relief to have so many people around, but at the same time, I really just wanted to have time alone to think. When I got to the trail, I didn’t see any boardwalk. I hiked for a little bit, and finally found it: a raised walkway that lead out to an area on the side of the mountain where the ocean and the mountains of Cape Breton stretch out onto the horizon forever. The sight was absolutely breath-taking. I walked down the path until I was on a perch that was right on the edge. Looking down was pretty much a sheer drop. I can’t even describe how beautiful it was. The ocean glittered as the sun danced along its surface, the mountains sloped up gracefully, covered in a dress of deep green, and the clouds dappled the blue sky like cotton balls accidentally strewn across the floor.

View from the boardwalk

I asked someone to take a picture of me. She was with a guy who was obviously terrified of heights. He kept having to sit down to pretend he wasn’t up so high. I felt bad for him. “You don’t like heights huh?” He couldn’t even bring himself to talk, just shook his head. His girlfriend/fiancé/wife/whatever just smiled and said, “Nope, he really hates heights.” He started muttering that he couldn’t go any further down the platforms. She looked a little annoyed by his fear. I smiled at him and said, “Well you should be really proud of yourself for making it this far!” He looked up briefly and smiled at me. It felt good to help cheer someone up.

Checking my cell phone, I realized that I had to turn back in order to make it to the campsite by our proposed deadline, so I said goodbye and headed back down the way I’d come. The way back always seems to be harder than the way to someplace, and this time was no exception. My legs, having gotten a moment’s rest while on the platform, decided they were going to start hurting. My ankles protested, and then I made the mistake of shifting my toes in my shoes. That’s when I realized I’d formed blisters on every one of my little toes. Now that I had discovered these blisters, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. When I’d finally made it to the road again, I was secretly wishing that someone would offer me a ride down.

I had no such luck procuring a lift, but when I was about 10 minutes from the campsite, what did I see but a big blue van pulling out of the drive. I felt a mix of emotions at that instant. A little part of me was annoyed. I wasn’t late, and here was Julie, coming after me like a worried mom. But the majority of my thoughts were filled with “wow, how nice of her, it’s so thoughtful that she would come and pick me up.” So in the end, it managed to help my mood, although I have to admit, I still wasn’t completely cured of my grumpiness. When we got back to the camp, Julie offered to cook dinner so that I could explore the beach a little bit. I took her up on her offer and walked down to the beach. My feet were stinging at that point. I figured a dip in the ocean would do them some good, so I perched on a bit of a sand bank, just out of reach of the water, and I pressed my feet into the freezing cold water. It felt really good.

The beautiful beach

I sat there and relaxed as I watched the sun moving slowly towards the horizon. The beach was made of little and big stones, no sand, so each time the waves pulled back from the beach, the little stones would shift, making a bit of a soft crackling sound as the water receded. It was very soothing to listen to. I was joined in my relaxing by several sand shrimp too. They were slightly creepy looking, but it was interesting to watch them leap towards my legs over and over again.

Eventually I stood up and walked along the beach, exploring the rocks. I thought to myself that this beach would be a horror to behold by any parent with a stone-collecting child like I used to be.

More at ease after being at the beach, I made my way up to camp for supper. We had spaghetti again, always an excellent meal, and while we ate, Julie told me about how amazing her day ended up being. I envied her ability to just find joy and pleasure in anything, since my walk hadn’t exactly completely relieved me of my unrest. I thought to myself, this is a skill I really need to learn. But it was nice to know that she had enjoyed herself and was no longer really upset about the morning’s events. For me, it took a good long sleep. But when I awoke in the morning, I was in an extremely chipper mood. I didn’t have sore muscles, my blisters seemed to have disappeared (although I’m sure they were still there), and I felt fully refreshed. On top of all that, I was extremely proud of myself for having walked up a mountain and back down again. So despite my awful mood the day before, I’m really glad for it too. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to keep bragging to Julie that I climbed a mountain!

-Nicole

The Hike

On Monday we arrived at Cape Breton Highlands National Park. After reviewing our options at the front desk, Nicole and I decided to spend the night in the park at the Corney Brook Campsite – especially since we wanted to experience a night right next to the ocean. And that’s exactly what we got.

Corney Brook, it turns out, is pretty much a grassy lot on a plateau. Below this, accessible by stairs, was the Atlantic Ocean. To get the full experience, we decided to back into a lot right on the edge – in front of a fence marked “Danger: Land Erosion.”

Random scenery from the trail I am writing about.

Once we were parked Nicole and I decided to go our separate ways. You see, as much as we are good friends, alone time is a necessity for our sanity. This, on top of the fact that I was in a very grumpy mood that day.

I must admit, I was a little worried about separating from Nicole. I mean, anything could happen and the numerous signs warning of coyotes were no comfort. But I spoke with some of the park employees and they said that the trail she had chosen was very popular and always busy – that was very comforting. So as Nicole walked up the road to the Skyline Trail, I crossed the street to the Corney Brook Trail.

Just at the beginning of the trail, I ran into a woman who was just emerging from it. I asked her how the trail was because she seemed like an avid hiker, all geared up and such. Her response was kind of unsettling. She said that it was excellent and very secluded. She was the first and last person I saw on the entire trail…

Before leaving, she highly recommended that I grab a walking stick – just in case of coyotes. With those words, she left. The bells on her backpack jingling as she went. BELLS! I can only assume they were to keep the coyotes away…

The mysterious walking stick.

Inching closer to the mouth of the trail, I definitely had second thoughts. But just a few feet in, there was the perfect walking stick … just sitting there waiting for me. Obviously this was a sign that I had to keep going. So I picked it up and continued on my adventure.

Aside from coyotes, fear of less tangible things kept me on my toes. This "tree-mummy" face greeted me along the path. Creepy.

Continuing along, I began to feel more at ease. Until I came across a large pile of droppings*. I don’t know what coyote poop looks like, but I can only assume it would be similar to a dog’s.  This pile did not look like it was left by a canine, so I figured I was still safe and continued on.

Another thing the hiker told me about the trail was that there was a small waterfall at the end. That was the only marker of distance on the whole trail. You see, the trail had no markers, I had no way of telling the time and the trail was a single route, there and back the same way. All I knew for certain was that the trail was 4 miles long – approximately 6 kilometres.

Rapids or small waterfall?

On the way in, time passed a bit slowly. Fear of being eaten by a coyote will do that. So I began to wonder where this waterfall was. Not knowing what “little waterfall” meant, I wondered if the woman had meant the rapids that I could periodically see below the cliff. But I knew the waterfall when I saw it.

Just as the path narrowed with a steep, thickly covered mountainside to the left and sheer drop to the right, I took a sharp turn. And there it was: a very impressive waterfall that could only be described as awesome. Awesome in the truest sense – the waterfall instilling both awe and a slight bit of fear. Having been a relatively quiet walk, the roar of rushing water was pretty startling.

Not-so-small waterfall.

After enjoying the waterfall – and the cool breeze that came off of it – I turned around and headed back “home”. Feeling pretty accomplished and proud of myself, I had a fun and carefree walk. But I don’t know if I should have been so relaxed. Because quite near the very end of the trail, I happened upon a fresh-looking pile of what appeared to be canine excrement.

*I have since come to the conclusion that this was probably moose scat. Thank you Science North!

-Julie

Right out of a Western...

Ugh, one awful part about this trip is the lack of shower opportunities. Sure, Walmart provides clean, well somewhat clean, safe facilities for restrooms between the hours of 7am and 10pm (except Sundays as we discovered), but they don’t come with showers. And after 4 days of no showering, Julie and I were starting to look pretty darn greasy. We were eager to hit Cape Breton because we were pretty positive we’d be able to find a nice lake in which we could take a swim, and a bath, but our clean dreams became reality much sooner than expected.

On our way out to Cape Breton from Halifax, we stopped off at a little provincial park called Salt Springs Provincial Park. We stopped there because we were hungry and there were picnic benches on the highway exit signs so we knew we’d be able to cook at this park. We chose the river picnic area, and came across an open field surrounded by trees and bushes. There were two little outhouses, a smattering of picnic benches, and a garbage can that allowed you to sort your garbage and be a good citizen by recycling.

Julie and I pulled out our camping stove and started to boil some water for lunch – mac and cheese and tuna, yum! We also set up our solar shower bag on the grass in the sun to encourage the water to heat up. We were going to wash our hair either way.  As Julie tended the stove, I went walking around the area to see if there actually was  a river, and to determine whether or not we’d be able to get down to it if there was one.

Well, obviously, there was a river. It was quite shallow and ran over a stone-cluttered bed right past our picnic area and beyond. There was even a second branch that joined it at a nearby junction. It looked brown and muddy from the ridge on which I stood, but I’d made up my mind – I was taking a bath in that water, no matter how cold. I figured that since it was shallow, it probably wouldn’t be too cold, not like swimming in the Atlantic anyway, which is what we were planning on doing if we couldn’t find a shower or a lake to use for bathing! The only other thing I worried about was leeches, but I figured the river was too quick to encourage their growth. Though I figured we’d be safe from those bloodsuckers, I didn’t tell Julie about my fears, in case it would prevent her from joining me.

After lunch, Julie and I donned our swimming gear, packed up our shampoos and scrubbie puffs, and slipped on our water shoes. Then we marched down to the river, and we waded in. Well I guess it wasn't exactly wading since the water only came up to our mid-calves! The water was definitely brisk, but it was as clear as glass as it sung over the rock-littered river bed. We bathed at the junction where the water wasn’t very deep. In order to get our heads in the water we had to lean down and dip our hair in. I totally felt as if we were in a Western movie, halting our horses for a short swim in the river to wash away the grime of the road. 

Unlike cowboys and cowgirls though, Julie and I screeched about how cold the water was. It didn't stop us from continuing our little bath: it just felt so good to be clean again! We shampooed twice, just in case, as if that would ensure we could go another 4 days, then we scrubbed ourselves down. When we were done, we wrapped up in towels and went back to the van.

After bathing in the river, Julie and I decided the water was probably clean enough that we could wash our dishes in it. So down we went again, and we stationed ourselves by the river, but closer to the first branch as opposed to the junction – initially…because just as we started unpacking our dishes to wash them, I spotted a GIANT brown spider sitting less than 3 inches from Julie. I jumped back and grabbed my video camera, squealing about the giant spider beside Julie. Julie was surprisingly calm about it, though she told me later she was surprised she was so calm. The spider was a good inch in body length alone, 2-3 inches with the leg span included. I think it was a dock spider. This picture looks a lot like the one we saw, so I’m pretty sure it’s a dock spider. We didn’t have anything but the video camera so I only got some video of the thing. It was gross.

We promptly packed our dishes and moved a little further downriver. Hahaha, not really surprising huh? It’s a good thing we didn’t see that spider when we were bathing!

As we were washing our dishes, we were joined by a biker dude who lived just up the street from the park. He never introduced himself, but we did have a nice long chat about where we were from, our trip across Canada, and the Cape Breton area. He was pretty nice, although I have to admit, when he first came down to the river with his black chaps over his blue-jeans, I reverted to thinking about being in a Western, and I was positive the dude was going to shank us for our horsepower…especially when he asked us if we were alone!

Anyway, all said and done, the bathing really perked Julie and me up. We were much happier during the remaining drive to Cape Breton, and while we’d been snapping at each other a bit before, we were instead singing to the tunes and chit chatting merrily until we reached our destination!

-Nicole

It's Raining, it's Pouring!

So Julie and I have reconsidered our first opinion of Halifax. We’re not sure if it would be our favourite city to live in. Today when we woke up, it was drizzling out, but drizzling here in Halifax is completely different from “drizzle” in Ottawa, or Southwestern Ontario for that matter! Here, drizzle is a constant and persistent, but at the same time somewhat lighter, rainfall. It’s the kind of rain that is light, but falls in big drops that soak your clothing quickly. Just going from Cloud 9 to the Walmart to go to the bathroom this morning meant getting very wet.

Determined to finish up our tour of Halifax (we still had the Halifax museum and Pier 21 to go), we both bought $5 Walmart rain jackets, Julie bought an umbrella (because her previous one died) and we headed for the bus stop. Julie, the fashionista that she is, decided the rain jacket looked stupid, so I wore mine, and she opted for her umbrella. I’m pretty sure she got less wet than I did. It’s not that the rain jacket didn’t work, it really did work well, but I wanted to keep my big bag covered too, and it didn’t fit very well under the rain jacket – that and there was a lot of sideways rain…I hate sideways rain.

Anyway, we braved the weather and headed downtown, completely soaked from the hips down by the time we got to the first museum. That’s when we decided we wouldn’t want to live in Halifax all the time. It is a beautiful city, but we were both not sure whether we could deal with all the rain all the time (apparently it rains there a lot…).

Pirate that greeted us at the museum

The Halifax museum was a good place to pass the day, though the exhibits had a lot of text to them. We saw artifacts from sunken wrecks near the Halifax harbour, we learned a little more about Sable Island, and we even saw artifacts directly from the sunken Titanic! The Titanic sinking is kinda a big deal in Halifax considering a lot of the recovered bodies are buried in a cemetery here. We also walked through an exhibit titled "Hello Sailor", which depicted the life of gay and lesbian culture in the navy. The exhibit seemed a little half-baked though, and I don't mean drug-wise. Julie and I were both a little disappointed. Neither of us really got a good idea of exactly what the exhibit was trying to portray.

They had a lot of these impressive models

Personally, my favourite part of the museum was the display on the Halifax explosion. I didn’t know much about it beforehand (though Julie had filled me in a bit…she’s so full of Canadian facts…I should be ashamed to claim any sort of Canadian citizenship in comparison!), but the exhibit was really informative and touching as well. It’s crazy to think that the Halifax explosion marked the largest non-nuclear explosion to date.

After we finished up the Halifax museum (we didn’t do the boat), we walked down the boardwalk all the way to Pier 21. Of course, it rained all the way there, until we arrived, and then it decided to clear up. Just our luck. 

Wet and tired, we entered Pier 21 to find an interactive and most enjoyable exhibit. The display really put you in touch with the feel of Pier 21 as it used to be, when thousands of immigrants and soldiers alike passed through its halls before, during, and after WWII. The display featured a setup of the waiting area where immigrants sat, waiting to speak to immigration officers; a mock train that visitors could enter, and that also included different compartments (complete with sliding train doors) in which played the stories of various immigrants who had passed through Pier 21; and a ship deck on which visitors could walk. Inside the mock ship was also a theatre in which was played a bunch of stories from Pier 21 through the projection of haunting, ghost-like holograms onto a stage that was dressed with actual set-pieces. It was really neat!

Overall, Julie and I loved the Pier 21 museum. It didn’t feature a huge display, I think it only took us about an hour to get through it all, but it was very interesting, and extremely personalized. You really felt, when you left the museum, that you knew some of the people who had been through there so long ago.

Finished up with museums for the day, we ventured back towards the downtown, hoping to catch a bus. We popped into the Keith’s brewery to snap a few pictures of Mr. Keith, when the idea of hot soup popped into our heads. And there, above our heads, hung the sign for the Red Stag Tavern. We entered tentatively, not sure if we should commit to eating out when we had so much food back in the van, but when we were told they had a significant selection of chowders, Julie was convinced. Neither of us wanted to cook either, so it worked out well. Julie filled her craving for seafood chowder (well almost filled it…the seafood chowder was not nearly as good as the chowder we’d had in St. John’s), and we both got a warm meal to tide us over on our way back to the van. The only downside? Barrett’s Privateers blared over the tavern’s speakers almost as soon as we sat down. But that’s okay…nothing’s perfect!  

-Nicole

Halifax - Day 2

Day 2 in Halifax was just as beautiful as day 1. The sun was shining, but the weather was warm instead of hot. We got off to a late start, sleeping in until 10am, then going grocery shopping at the Walmart. We purchased about $50 worth of food overall, but it should last us quite a while.

We got downtown around 12noon or so, and we started with a visit to the Historic Properties. They turned out to be a bunch of shops, which we browsed. Nothing of great interest there, and unfortunately the Bluenose wasn’t docked.

We walked down the boardwalk after, with Julie hoping to catch Theodore Tugboat at port. We weren’t so lucky, but we did take down his schedule. Julie was determined to get a picture with him.

Peace Monument (on the inside)

To pass the time, we took a ferry to Dartmouth where we visited the peace monument—a half-formed pyramid full of rocks. Literally. Hahaha. Apparently, students had put the monument together, and had contacted all the governments of the countries participating in either the G7 or G20 summit that occurred sometime in the 80s or 90s, or something like that, and all the governments had sent them pieces of rocks for the display. Some were neat, like a chunk from the Berlin wall, but others were just labeled “rock”, and that was that.

We didn’t spend too much time in Dartmouth, since we had a busy schedule. But we did take the time to test out the playground! Lol. We also met a gentleman with whom we chatted for quite a while. The people here in Halifax are so friendly! It still weirds me out to have strangers just randomly talk to us out of nowhere.

Back on the Halifax shore, we walked the boardwalk and came across some tallship tours. We decided to take a ride on the Tallship Silva. 

We thought it would be a guided tour of the Halifax Harbour. There was no “guided” part, but we did get to sail around the harbour for a good hour. Boy were we unprepared for sailing though! Being on the water, even just in the harbour, was COLD! We enjoyed our relaxing little tour, though that Barrett’s Privateers song (the one that the choir kids always sing…Stefanie, Brian...you know what I’m talking about. Lol) played about 4 or 5 times while we were on the boat. Apparently their music selection was very slim! That song turned out to be the bane of our time in Halifax as you will find out a little later.

Anyway, once back on shore, Julie and I rushed over to catch Theodore Tugboat. He was just pulling up to dock when we arrived. Julie was like a school kid! We got one of the Theodore employees to take our picture. I also took a couple one-on-one photos of Julie and Theodore…Julie can now cross yet another thing off her bucket list (this is thanks to you by the way Simon Mattioli!).

At this point, we’d pretty much accomplished everything we were planning to accomplish, except for dinner and a tour of Keith’s Brewery. Hungry and tired, with 3 hours to kill before the last tour of the day at 8pm, we decided to head back to the van hoping that we would have enough time to drive it to the nearest park with picnic tables so that we could cook dinner before going for beer. We also decided that we wanted to go out and experience the Halifax nightlife (the tour, which offered two pints-worth of beer, seemed to be a good start to the evening…).

The bus back seemed to take longer than expected, but we arrived at the Walmart parking lot around 5pm. We used the GPS to help us find the nearest park, and we packed up our backpacks and shoulder bags with pots, cutlery, food, and dishware. Then we ventured into the park to find a picnic table. It was our first time using the camping stove. Julie and I were a bit afraid that we would make the propane tank explode somehow. We were also really worried that we would get in big trouble for cooking in the middle of this jogging park of sorts. So one of us pretty much kept a look-out while the other cooked.

We ended up creating a delicious spaghetti dish with spicy sauce and spicy sausage added in. No other food ever tasted so good! (Everyone always says that…lol). 

True to our deadline, we were out of the park and heading back to the Walmart parking lot for 7pmish. We got all dolled up (well, as dolled up as Julie and I get), and we went out to catch the bus at around 7:15pm. We were pushing it for getting to the Keith’s Brewery on time for the last tour. The bus came at 7:35pm, and Julie and I were getting a little antsy. We were almost confident that we were going to miss the last tour. When the bus finally arrived in the downtown area, we missed our stop. The stop after we jumped off. It was 7:53pm according to Julie’s cell phone. Desperate to start our evening with two pints, we ran all the way to the brewery – downhill! Julie was terrified of falling, being in flats. I was more worried about blisters and missing out on the tour.

At 7:57pm we entered the doors of the Keith’s Brewery. We rushed into the little gift shop where the tour tickets could be purchased, and we were just in time! The tour was…interesting. Probably the best Keith’s commercial we’ve ever seen. It started with a more than chipper tour guide who was so over-the-top happy, we thought she was going to have a heart attack. She kept gushing about Keith’s beer as if it were the love of her life. What a script! The poor actress! Lol. She was dressed in period costume as befitted her character and the tour, and she escorted us “back in time” to the humble beginnings of the Keith’s legacy. At this point, we watched a historic video about “Keith’s crisp, golden, India Pale Ale” hahaha literally. We learned about the fact that the beer was called India Pale Ale because it was the first good tasting beer to be sent to the troops in India (the first beer that didn’t go bad before it was shipped there) during a time when the British army had decided on a 1 gallon ration of beer per solder per day…no wonder they couldn’t shoot straight! It wasn’t their shitty muskets, it was because they couldn’t see straight! Lol.

After the film, we were taken into the brewing room, designed to look exactly like the brewing room would have back in the late 1800s. A very enthusiastic male guide joined us and explained how Mr. Keith always inspected the ingredients himself, to ensure only the best quality possible for his beer. Then he lead us down a tunnel that had originally connected the Keith’s brewery to Mr. Keith’s house. This time it lead to a “tavern”, where we were provided with large pints of any of Keith’s 4 available beers – the  blonde, red, stout, and the pale ale. While the guests drank their beer, the actors, 4 of them total now, sang a few songs. The first was some sad tune about a lover, but can you guess the second one? That’s right! Barrett’s Privateers! Wasn’t THAT a treat! When they announced they were going to sing it, I involuntarily shouted out “NO!” and quickly turned away with my hand over my mouth, embarrassed. They didn’t listen to my protest and forged on with their song.

Now a note for those who decide to visit the Keith’s brewery for the tour: it says you get 2 pints of beer on the tour, and this is true enough, but what it doesn’t say is that you must chug your two pints or you do without. Two songs and one joke in, they announced a last call for beer! Julie wasn’t more than half-way done her pint. I had been drinking quickly, so I was about 2/3 done, but many of the other guests weren’t half done themselves! Julie and I decided that it’s their way of saving money on the beer. They rush you through drinking so that you don’t consume as much…wasn’t very cool in our opinion! But overall, the tour was fun. We even met a couple of girls who were from Chatham and Ottawa respectfully. They were both in Halifax for some kind of veterinary conference. Pretty neat!

Once we were done the tour, we decided to walk along the boardwalk and enjoy the sunset. We ended up passing the Jazz festival that was going on, and were almost at the right time and the right place to receive free tickets for the evening. Only we weren’t. Instead, the couple just in front of us was stopped by the stranger looking to relieve himself of his jazz festival tickets. Julie was sorely disappointed. Lol.

Walking along the boardwalk at sunset was absolutely beautiful. The water was very clear and we could see down to the rocks in the shallower areas. I couldn’t tell you how many starfish I counted while gazing down into the water! There were starfish with four legs and some with five. I even saw a few move.

Once near the information booth we veered uphill, heading to a bar-populated area we’d seen earlier that day. Being such a beautiful night, all the patios were packed, but we managed to squeeze ourselves into a two-seater table at the Foggy Goggle. (I loved the name of the bar!) Julie wasn’t feeling so hot, due to rushing while drinking the last beer and a half at the Keith’s Brewery, but we ordered a pitcher and a couple glasses of water and slowly worked our way through them. There was a huge group of guys sitting beside us who looked like they might know the city well, so we decided to poke one of them and ask him if he knew where we could find any live music. The answer was the Split Crow. He gave us directions, and then turned back to participate his man date again (apparently they aren’t exclusive to New Brunswick. Lol).

Later in the evening, his friend, who was absolutely hammered (so much so that he spilled beer all over his pants not minutes before introducing himself), approached us and invited us to go to the casino with him and his friends. We obviously declined, not being gamblers ourselves…momentarily we were interested in potentially having a random adventure. But in the end, we didn’t go. That’s something we need to work on. We need to be more adventurous! But it’s hard to feel comfortable going somewhere with perfect strangers, and a group of guys at that! I guess that’s part of what Canada is about though. Sure, we have crazy people here, but not nearly as many as the US does. Stefanie and I were talking about that before I left on this trip actually. She was telling me how she was so shocked that such a big deal was made out of the military commander who was nabbed for murder out in Trenton, but as Brian pointed out, that kind of thing almost never happens! Doesn’t feel that way of course. I mean, what with the media, we are never able to forget how scary the world is. But anyway…

After our pitcher, our party spirit was pretty much dead. Julie’s stomach was in full rebel mode and neither of us was sure exactly when the buses stopped running, so we found ourselves a bus stop and we went back to Cloud 9. We certainly slept like babies that night!


-Nicole