From the Observation Deck

A few of my previous posts have been part of my Canterbury Tails series about interesting people I meet along the pilgrimage of life. There were no shortages of them in Nova Scotia.

Our first character was Wayne. Wayne was our waiter in the café where we stopped for lunch in Truro, Nova Scotia. The seafood chowder was delicious and on this rainy day it really hit the spot. And so did the conversation. Wayne was the kind of guy you just have to love. He loves life, loves people, and is just plain pleasant to be around.

During our short time at the cafe this is what I learned about Wayne. He was once a sailor and traveled the world. Scotland was his favorite place. He knew since he was kid that he wanted to retire and travel. In eight years when his wife retires, he’s going to put his Harley on the back of his RV and they are going to go to Europe and travel around for a few years. Then they’ll pick another place to travel.

He has two German Sheppards and has their pictures framed and sitting on a shelf in the restaurant. He doesn’t own the restaurant but you wouldn’t know that unless you heard him talk. And come to think of it, you’d probably hear him talk if you met him so you’d probably find that out. Okay, anyway. Wayne has been putting money away for his retirement since he was young. He brought up his kids as a single parent and is happy to be at work at 5 a.m.

Seriously, we were only there for less than an hour and I haven’t told you everything. What a great guy—good luck and bon voyage, Wayne.

Another character who I didn’t get to meet for that long was our innkeeper in Pictou. When I called to make reservations and asked about a confirmation she said, “Well, I’m the innkeeper and this is your confirmation.” Maureen took us down to the house we rented and made some recommendations for dinner. She checked to see if the place was clean but I was much more concerned about the 20 degree angle of the house. Seriously. My mom and I slid halfway off the bed during the night. The leaning tower of Pisa has nothing on Maureen’s inn overlooking the harbour. But she was nice and hard working. Got to love the attitude.

Another one of our innkeepers was Barbara who ran a B&B in her townhouse. Driving up through a neighborhood that could have been mine, I was a bit concerned. But she was very helpful and kind. After she suggested we leave for the airport at an ungodly hour, I was sure that she and my dad had been hatched together. She was a bit cat crazy, which of course I loved because they were so cute and I was missing my furry babies. When not teaching her cats how to do a “high five” she was sleuthing on the computer—looking me up and checking out where I lived. All in all, it was a nice place to lay your head.

Our final character was Ben our waiter at the Mic and Mac restaurant. Awesome place outside Halifax by the way. He had this strong voice and a very friendly manner. At one point he came out with a cupcake and sang happy birthday with a beautiful, operatic, loud voice. This is the kind of guy who is comfortable in his skin and can really make you smile.

Many more lovely people were met on our pilgrimage through Nova Scotia and we enjoyed our time with all of these very friendly people.

Slán agus beannacht leat. (Goodbye and blessings with you.)

I don’t have photos of our new pilgrims so here are some funnies from the trip.

Me in the scarecrowe village

Mom and me in Pictou

A stuffed Pilgrim

One of the main reasons I wanted to go to Nova Scotia was to visit the Bay of Fundy. This area boasts the world’s highest tides. At one point they reach up to 55 feet. That’s akin to a five story building.

So here’s what happens that makes it kind of interesting. The tide comes in from the ocean and gets funneled into the bay and then into the Minas Basin. It then gets funneled further into a narrow river called the Shubenacadie (Shoo bin ack uh dee). When the tide goes out, the river is almost drained dry—lots of sand can be seen and the water that is left is extremely shallow. Then, when the tide comes in, it meets the water that is receding and forms what is called a tidal bore. A wave.

My parents and I arrived at the Tidal Bore Rafting Park and Cottages and sat on the deck of their restaurant overlooking the river. It was dinnertime so we ordered the Lobster rolls and took some photos of the dry river bed. Just a little while later we noticed a very fast moving body of water filling up the river. It was amazing to see. Seriously, the river was filling up before our eyes in less time than it took to have dinner.

The next night we hopped on board the zodiac and took a nice serene trip up the river. We got to see a few bald Eagles way up in the trees and the banks of wet mud on either side. Travis was our guide and he was a nice local kid who I would characterize as someone who lives for today. Travis just bought a house on the river in the flood zone with no flood insurance. During really high tides his basement floods and they fish right off his deck. When he told us the river widens by two feet each year I teased him about how in a few years he’ll just have to open up his refrigerator door to catch fish. Travis was a good guy though. I must attribute some great wisdom to the guy. He said, “You never know what’s going to happen when the tide comes in.”

And with that we hit the fast running water and he proceeded to drench us in the waves. The last bit of dunking managed to throw me and another camper off the side of the boat. I don’t remember much—just that Travis said not to hold on to the boat or we’d get sucked under. That was precisely what was going through my mind when I was under water. That and getting caught in the motor. But my Dad, who was halfway out the boat after I went over, said I “popped” right up. Yeah. Popped. I swam very hard to the surface with a ton of waders and wet shoes on. But all was well. I got into the boat and up the mud banks back to our warm cabin all safe and sound. Funny how the pulled muscle in my back didn’t hurt until much later.

All in all, it was a really fun adventure and I’d recommend it for all. But try to go during the mid cycle of the moon. If you go during a full moon you may end up getting more than dunked into the “Shubie.”

This is a YouTube clip of a rafting trip. It’s not mine but halfway through it you can see what it’s like on the river.

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.