Next stop on the Nova Scotia tour took us to Blomidon Look Off. The haze kept us from looking off at much but we did get to see an entrepreneur working the system the best he/she knew how. At this blip on the map there was the “Look In guest room,” the “Look & Put,” the “Look and Lick (ice cream of course),” the “Look and Eat” take out, and the “Look Around” gift shop. The only thing missing was the view. So mom and dad and I went up to the nearby national park and hiked a trail (a long, long trail) to another look off. Finding nothing we headed out for what really mattered—the CheeseHouse.

Another marketing ploy. I reasoned that the Foxhill CheeseHouse would offer us a tour of a cheese processing plant or a chance to milk a cow—something. Nope. But once she brought out the sampler tray all was forgiven. We bought lots of yummy Cheddar, Havarti, Gouda, and other stuff along with a loaf of delicious bread and went away from said Fromagerie happy campers.

Next stop was the Acadia Heritage site. This was a nice surprise in our quest for historical and cultural enlightenment. We learned all about the Acadians, a group of French people that settled Nova Scotia around the time the Pilgrims were claiming a rock in Massachusetts. These people built dykes to deal with the huge tides that drenched the land and were neutral in the continuous struggle between the European powers that were fighting over the land. In the mid 1700’s the British instituted an ethnic cleansing campaign and deported all the Acadians—many of whom suffered and died after their belongings and homes were taken and destroyed. Some of these people migrated to various regions, one of which was Louisiana where today they are called Cajuns. Sound familiar? It’s too bad the army corps of engineers didn’t learn how to build dykes like the Cajuns’ ancestors or maybe Katrina wouldn’t have destroyed the levies. Hmmmm.

While at the heritage site we went to a memorial church where Evangeline the cat sprawled out in the window sill allowing all of us to pet her if we wished. She is named Evangeline (just like my Aunt Vangie) after the Evangeline in the story by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Evidently her character represents the horror of the deportation and brought it out in the open for everyone to see and to remember. I bought a copy and will be reading it soon. Too bad we are still doing this kind of thing today.

Stay tuned as the adventure heads toward the tidal bore and my near drowning. Okay, I’m exaggerating but I did fall into the rushing waters of the Shubenacadia River. If you think you know how to pronounce it, I’ll give you a prize.

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