Prologue
Our Nova Scotia trip came off the heels of an 8-week long job orientation and career pivot for me. A scary transition full of new and unknown variables. I deeply underestimated how much this shift would impact my creativity, writing ability and overall brain band width. I was consumed with “imposter syndrome” and overcome with feelings of absolute failure and defeat.
At times I was able to detach from the overwhelming thoughts-but the usual “large girl in a small world” antics and witty banter subsequently took a hit amongst the distraction of change. It took a long time to launch my storytelling and the wide berth between the magical draw of Nova Scotia and post trip reality and exhaustion influenced my ability to narrate. For the first time my fantasy world of travel collided with real life conditions that ultimately made this one of the most difficult blogs to execute. Please keep this in mind as you read along. As always- thanks for the continued support.
Hello! Welcome to Edellsescipades and our 13 day “whale of a tale” from Canada’s Ocean Playground-Nova Scotia. A Girl and Her Hubs changed things up this year embarking on a nature filled trip of a lifetime.
Two weeks full of exploring Canada’s Maritime province almost entirely surrounded by water, home to over 8,000 miles of coastline, thousands of lakes, lush valleys, seven UNESCO World Heritage Sites and the world’s highest tides.
Arriving in Halifax, we retrieved our no-nonsense Jetta and launched our journey. The highway was traffic free flowing with ease and efficiency. We passed miles of fertile farmland as the sun faded into the Indian summer horizon. We stopped at a local market selecting yummy provisions and simple fare for our remote destination. In darkness we entered the secluded wilderness of Caledonia. Our rustic cabin at Mersey River Chalets awaited us with all the cozy comforts of home. Dining on Pumpkin Soup, we gazed out onto the dark onyx sky. The tranquility of the cabin and surroundings 0ffered a perfect night’s sleep.
Day 1 Caledonia
Waking up rested we sat on the peaceful porch, indigenous trees around us. Extraneous noise such as street traffic or a loud leaf blower were noticeably absent and replaced with the purest of silence. Without those disruptive interferences, the stillness felt like a gentle embrace. Foreign, unrecognizable animal calls of the wild ricocheted through the forest. Mischievous chipmunks beholden with aggressive food thievery skills stood stoic on their hind legs daringly close to us. The weather was perfection hovering between 50 and 60 degrees. There was a boardwalk path that encircled the property with a canopied awning of age-old trees. We went on a walk to explore the treasure chest of enchanting woods surrounding us. Inviting Adirondack chairs ushered us to sit and let the world tick on by.
We wandered over to the water’s edge where big boulders sat vulnerable exposing the bone-dry riverbed. The protruding rocks revealed a hidden underbelly rarely seen. Tiny springy frogs leapt hop scotching from end to end. Knotted clusters of chaotic tree conformations, acorns and leaves coexisted in this unique environment.
Hungry from our efforts we headed over to the only restaurant in town the Hollow Log Cafe. The meal was unmemorable and a means of substance. Back at the cabin, Hubs and I sat out at the porch contemplating life. The utter silence was surreal. Even though there were other cabins adjacent to us, there was a real sense of isolation, privacy and remoteness.
We sat there quiet on the porch enclosed in Mother Nature’s womb. I love the springy recoil of running on a boardwalk. With nothing but time and opportunity available I sprung and leapt like a rotund ballerina performing my own version of Swan Lake hoofs pounding on the glorious, planked path.
For an instant, the harmonious ecosystem faced imminent disruption from my intense foot clomping and ground reverberation. The pristine habitat that had survived the threat of predators, wildfires and drought was now facing potential annihilation solely from my gauchely gallop. I looped around, passing Hubs from the porch cheering me on like an enthusiastic race spectator. As the sun set, I completed 3 satisfying miles with no known ecological disaster.
That night we dined buffet style a cornucopia of grocery store gastronomy. We scurried out in the mysterious blackness of nightfall and peered up at the star speckled sky. The region boasts of a Dark sky preserve commitment protecting the nighttime sky from the effects of artificial lighting. We cautiously shuffled our feet scrambling to adapt with our stunted senses. Our eyes struggled to adjust as we craned our necks up as optical illusions danced in front of us. Then as if the ebony heavens parted, a flickering milkyway lightshow appeared. We stood frozen, eyes affixed above as the sable stratosphere and infinite cosmos briefly collided.
Day 2 Kejimkujik /Lunenburg
Leaving the chalet, I was so grateful for the gift of R&R. It was a last-minute decision changing our start from the hustle bustle of Downtown Halifax to the simplicity of the cabin. At Mersey River Chalets we basked in comfort, relaxation and solitude. It was an apropos introduction that set the tone for our laid-back Nova Scotia getaway.
Only 30 minutes away Kejimkujik National Park was our next stop. Only weeks prior there was a national forest fire burn ban due to a desperate need of rain. The restrictions impacted closures of all hiking trails in the area. We took a chance and glad we did. The ban had just lifted even though the area remained in a hazardous state with fire precautions in place. We made our way to Slap foot Trail recommended by the park ranger. The weather aspects were ideal for a water view hike providing cool air and an intermittent retreating potent sun. We walked the gravel path that hugged the shallow Kejimkujik Lake.
Tall lumbering trees shadowed the route that opened up to a wide sparkling spectacle. We came across a few other friendly hikers but mainly we were alone the entire time.
With innocent wonder and fresh eyes, we approached the calming waters of the lapping surf that breached the granite boulder rock formations.
Back in the car, we coasted towards Lunenburg. We stopped at Wiles Lake Farm Market and Bakery. The popular establishment demonstrated love, and a little sugar are the secret ingredients in yumminess. Hubs gobbled a cherry turnover that left him euphoric for the remainder of the day.
Lunenburg is a UNESCO World Heritage site of which 70% of the original colonial buildings from the 18th and 19th centuries still remain. This colorful sea faring town was a nautical delight. We went directly to Alicion Bed and Breakfast where the owner Joe met us with a hearty hello.
The 1911 mansion had been maintained to its grandest splendor. This antique jewel box represented a time when Lunenburg was a shining beacon of Maritime renaissance. The manicured lawn and exquisite fragrant flower blooms provided a dazzling and inviting welcome.
We set out on foot approximately a swift 20-minute walk-heading toward the old town. We dined alfresco at Dockside Restaurant. Overlooking the harbor, we spotted the revered and legendary Bluenose II fishing schooner-Lunenburg’s pride and joy. The distinct clip-clopping of hooves from horse and carriage rides on the street level inspired curiosity within us. The blush sunset dimmed into dusk triggering a temperature shift. Dainty sailboats bobbed and dipped buoyantly in the sea below.
Across from me-Hubs adorned in a plastic ill-fitting lobster bib cracked crustacean tentacles with expert precision, unctuous butter dribbles glistened on his chin, lips and fingers in boyish amusement. After dinner, we navigated the hilly sloping streets. We made note of the distinguished seafaring architecture and nautical details embodying the mystery and pull of the powerful sea.
Day 3 Exploring Lunenburg
The whole B&B breakfast situation always comes with anxiety and uncomfortable conversation. However, this morning we genuinely enjoyed the interesting dialogue that was exchanged. Our Hosts Chris and Joe provided a tasty spread with notable attention to detail. Breakfast included grilled vegetables, mini quiche and homemade granola. The antiques and elegant plating helped to create a sophisticated and pleasurable occasion.
Our plan for the day was to canvas Lunenburg from stem to stern. We walked to the Fisheries Museum. It highlighted the diverse fishing heritage and the coastal way of life. We arrived just as it opened with few people in there and when we left there was a line out the door.
From there, we hopped from store to store, busloads of tour groups infiltrating my space and peace. We relaxed a bit and stopped for coffee at no 9 coffee bar. Next, we visited the historic home of Knaut Rhuland House Museum. Benjamin Knaut was the former owner and sheriff of Lunenburg when it was built in 1793. The free museum offers a glimpse of early residential life in Lunenburg from 1753-1910. We popped into St. Johns Anglican Church which dates back to 1753. The white wooden Carpenter Gothic Style church serves as an anchor both symbolically and metaphorically to the proud residents of Lunenburg. A fire in 2001 nearly destroyed the church but perseverance resides within the walls of the church as well as the locals who call it home. The stained glass that survived is a testament to the church’s resilient past.
We zigzagged back weaving in and out of the sloped streets perusing the many eye-catching art galleries. We returned to the B&B dedicating the evening hours to indulgent rest after a serendipitous day.
Day 4 Smith’s Cove
Rising this am the temps were cooler. I awakened before sunrise- a calculated decision as I was steadfast in running this morning. Stepping out into the 49-degree air, it was startling at first, but I quickly adapted. For 3 miles, I followed the harbor trail to the quiet empty docks. As the sun began to rise, the pink sky served as my compass. The placid water reflected my current mellow state. I memorized the bucolic vignette, storing it in my brain’s data bank for a “break the glass if necessary” kind of future emergency.
I returned just in time for breakfast. A new set of characters sat with us today-just as engaging and enjoyable as the previous day. A divine array of delicious plated food was served with care and attention. Joe, one of the owners provided us with a detailed account of Lunenburg history. He generously solicited useful tips regarding our future upcoming plans that would prove very helpful. Alicion B&B was an enjoyable stay in a lavish setting. We were pampered and taken care of. We ate well, we frolicked, we roamed, we listened, laughed and most importantly we had fun.
On the road, the brilliant sun guided the way. The fall foliage was in full affect displaying a mosaic of coloration. A chromatic palette of earthy browns, radiant golds and fiery cardinal hues electrified the empty roadways creating a standing ovation of lustrous saturation. At this point, we started our audio book Anne of Green Gables, a fitting tale set in Prince Edward Island in the late 19th century based on the adventures of an 11-year-old orphan girl. As our journey continued, we would become more invested in the story and the characters.
We stopped in Liverpool and visited the Fort Point Lighthouse one of the oldest surviving lighthouses in Nova Scotia constructed in 1855. We climbed 2 flights of a makeshift ladder to the rickety top peering through dirty streaked windows. Outside we nestled on a bench taking in the Liverpool Harbor landscape.
We drove further to the town of Annapolis Royal for lunch and a little sightseeing. We stopped to eat at Sachsen German Bakery Café and Restaurant. The food and service were wretched and best to be forgotten.
We walked around Fort Anne. In 1710 the port fell to the British and was renamed Annapolis Royal in honor of Queen Anne. Annapolis Royal went onto to play important roles in the American Revolution, the Napoleonic Wars, and the War of 1812.
We traversed the historic grounds gazing beyond the mighty Annapolis River as blistery winds whipped about us.
We continued on until we passed the most unusual and peculiar roadside establishment Frank and Dora’s. This oddity is a kaleidoscope of madness-retro time travel-fever dream. It falls somewhere between toy store meets Disney cantina.
Every naughty food group you can imagine exists within this circus sideshow. Fried foods, mega burgers and ice cream of every variety imagined. We ate at a picnic table facing the water, as Hubs devoured a gargantuan chocolate dipped ice cream cone. It dripped and folded onto itself due to excessive weight threatening an imminent tragic collapse. Nonetheless, it did not take away from his enjoyment.
We eventually arrived in Smith’s Cove at The Harbour View Inn where we would stay the next 3 days. We would utilize this central location for many jetting off day trips planned. The building has grit and good bones as they say but definitely needs an improvement in insulation and soundproofing. The 125-year-old home has 10 guest rooms and all were occupied. The Inn held so much history it was the first in the area to have electricity, prevailed through the Great Depression and WW II.
It was a full day of sights, sounds and tastes. This evening, we focused on our upcoming itinerary and self-care.
Day 5 Smith’s Cove/Digby
We awoke and after a generous hot made to order breakfast we got on the road. We drove through curving roads along the sea to Point Prim Lighthouse. Only a handful of visitors trickled in due to the early hour. We circled the park to different observation points, each more bewitching than the next.
A solo seal bobbed up and down playfully floating and retreating in the white foamy waves of the Digby Gut waters. This section narrows into a dramatic channel that connects the Bay of Fundy to the Annapolis Basin. It is known for its swift currents and breathtaking seascape.
Next, we drove to downtown Digby. Pulling into the virtually empty marina vacant sailboats docked and forgotten for now. Retail shops opened their doors; eager buyers entered in search of the ultimate keepsake.
As luck had it, this coincided with the weekly local Farmers and Artisans Market. We breezed through the kiosks eyeing the handcrafted items, jewelry, ceramics, crafts and other goods. I purchased a few specialty organic soaps-an impulsive procurement I will use and always remember my time in Digby.
Back at the B&B we took advantage of the amazing walking path on the property for a truly splendid walk. The Digby Rail Trail is part of a network of former train tracks that were resourcefully converted into all-purpose trails that span almost 25 miles. The only sound to break the silence was the delicate crunching of pebbles beneath us as teaser glimpses of the Bear River appeared through the mangled tree configurations.
Beautiful homes dotted the shoreline evoking fantasies of living in such a magical environment. We made it to Smith’s Cove Lighthouse.
For dinner we returned back to downtown Digby to dine at Sydney Street Pub.
It was a popular hotspot with intriguing options. We sat window side Hubs got a seafood pasta dish that included Digby’s famous scallops, shrimp and mussels. He toasted with the local ale-fully enjoying his meal with hearty gusto. I had a hummus sampler with homemade chips. Our dining out was few and far between so when we did partake we savored every minute of it. After a long day full of Digby’s wonders, we rested up for our continued adventures.
Dinner at Sydney Street Pub
Day 6 Smith’s Cove
This morning, I set off at sunrise for a run along the Rail Trail. The air was brisk, and the path was empty. Chimneys billowed out punchy smoke as the residents of the area were ending their slumber. I listened to music that helped move my legs as my mind reflected on gratitude and love, then bounced back to heavier subjects of reality, work, home and family.
Checking each item in my head as if going down a grocery list to ensure I remained grounded to my responsibilities while everything in my being encouraged me to stay focused and present. In the end, I came away from the 2-mile run with restored clarity and recharged energy.
Next on the agenda was a long-awaited must do before I die item that Hubs begrudgingly obliged to. We embarked on a 50-foot Cape Island style boat through the Petite Passage Whale Watching Company. The hour-long drive down Digby Neck provided a montage of rugged coastline, rolling hills and serene pastures.
This would be the final week for business until they reopen in June. The dynamic crew radiated a genuine passion for their gig almost as much as the customers on board. We met up at the Petit Passage Cafe where we paid a well spent $107 USD for the two of us. I was granted a “senior” discount even though I am several years short. Yay!
The café is full of cute whale swag, warm thick hoodies and snugly hats. All of which are seemingly useless once I return to 80-degree weather in Tampa! I was able at least this time to restrain myself from purchasing. With some time to kill-Hubs fetched his newest obsession maple ice cream. I lost count how many ice creams Hubs scarfed down but his hunt for Maple Walnut Ice Cream carried on until Nova Scotia and the Hubs parted ways.
Look alike couples in matching expensive LL Bean Outerwear worthy of a rugged expedition loaded the boat frantically battling for the best vantage points. A rowdy gaggle of ladies from Orlando whooping it up on a girls trip grabbed the upper tier. Through the 4 hour voyage I got to know all the characters on the boat, all more annoying than the next.
As the cool water mist hit my face and I stared off to the horizon to quell any potential sea faring bubbly gut scenario-my mind went down a Gilligan’s Island rabbit hole. My crazy thought spiral was interrupted as we approached Brier Island the loud engine dulled and we slowed down. 2 hump back whales were spotted on the opposite side of the boat. Immediately the whole posse of passengers shuffled to one side jockeying for the ultimate whale debut. As if on cue, 2 lava-colored cylindrical masses appeared.
They dove and levitated up in an ethereal weightless manner. With acrobatic ease and agility, they flipped from one side of the boat to the other following us for several miles. Each time we resigned playtime was over, expelled air jetted up from the blowhole signifying the frolicking would commence. We were instructed to look for the whale’s footprint which is a glassy, smooth visible circle that produces a vortex from the whale’s powerful motion.
These majestic mammals kept us entertained and when they finally gracefully dove down unveiling the sought after tail flip-dip display the convoy erupted in a celebratory ovation.
We made the trek back to land spotting a few white sea lions lazily sunning themselves on some rocks.
The potent sun rays penetrated heavily on my tired eyes balancing the cold salty sea spray. I closed my eyes as the engine’s constant purr and diesel fumes induced rapid sleep and compelling dreams. I was stirred back to consciousness as we landed back where we had started. With my heart full and content, I could now take Whale Watching off my bucket list. On the way back to the B&B we returned to the kitschy Frank and Dora’s where Hubs had fish tacos. Feeling a little under the weather the two of us called it an early night.
Day 7 Egerton
Rounding out our time in Smith’s Cove I went for one final exhilarating run. This morning the weather was a bit warmer, and the trail was now a familiar friend. The salmon sky and wilderness around me generated a therapeutic healing inspired by the aesthetic terrain.
Our time at the inn turned out to be a fruitful surprise. The historical backstory of the Inn was remarkable and noteworthy. The location was an ideal starting point for our sightseeing goals and most memorable whale watching caper. The trails, running and hiking opportunities were fortuitous.
The next 4-hours of driving was an odyssey of golden farm fields and highway. We continued with Anne of Green Gables motoring through the unspoiled Nova Scotian landscape.
We stopped in Truro found easy parking downtown and chowed on pleasant Mexican grub at Taco Brothers. The neighborhood was charming, but we were on a mission to get to our next place, so we quickly left.
Pulling up to The Bird in Hand in Egerton-a small subcommunity in New Glasgow an immediate feeling of calmness settled in. Coming directly from the confines of the B&B-I was yearning for a few days of freedom and no obligation. B&B life is not cut out for everyone. I vacillate between love and hate. On one hand, captivating discussion, engagement, social contact, pampering and helpful tips were all benefits gained from our B&B time. But with all that comes a give and take principle-fear of breaking someone’s items, communal living, mandated meals at designated non-negotiable times.
B&B’s have a romantic nuance- an old dwelling that offers history, antiques and architectural details of grandeur. However, century old plumbing, poor insulation, and thin walls interfere with efficiency, comfort and convenience. The magical recipe for a stellar itinerary is a combination of structure and downtime. It is an ongoing discord and with each vacation we learn.
This gem of a B&B is the very best of accommodations. A deliberate attention to details were evident in the owner Sarah’s well-traveled ethos. She had a lifetime of global experiences and clearly understood the needs of the wandering spirit. She collected all her research content into a book called Holy Days: Reflections of a Travel Pilgrim so you can add esteemed author to her long list of talents.
The coastal cottage is tucked away nestled amongst a bucolic storybook lane. Adorable beachy bungalows align the pebbled path framed by colorful well attended flowers. We were welcomed by Sarah and provided free reign of our portion of the shared home.
I was rejoicing in our independence. The home was fully stocked and even special substitutions for me and my weird vegan preferences were available. The ingredients for a grand breakfast was supplied. The kitchen was bright and cheery with dreamy skylights, ample space, a supreme gas stove and high-end cookware.
Windows faced an idyllic beach setting a scene worthy of a master painting. A lonely canoe bopped and floated in the swaying tide-free for us to use-which we forfeited based on a collaborative decision that it would likely not end favorably for either one of us. Deer pranced through the yard in intervals, randomly through the day.
Inquisitive squirrels tiptoed with curious bravado as a variety of birds approached in friendly flight. A bed with luxury high thread count linens faced a set of romantic French doors that opened to a dreamlike fantasy milieu. Midday when the sun was at peak brilliance, we sat outside on the Adirondacks with a direct survey of the water. We closed our eyes cat napping under the shaded refuge of the umbrella. The main selling point though was the washer and dryer-a celebrated providence as it was day 7 of 13.
We settled in as darkness descended. Cozy rain drops dampened the thirsty ground while we nourished on hot pumpkin soup. We rested, we laundered, we took advantage of all the amenities. We had everything we needed; we had nowhere to be and no commitments. It was pure and unconditional freedom. We slept like carefree cherubs under the moonlight’s deep protective glow.
Day 8 Egerton
With no breakfast to report to, we rose when our bodies signaled-a refreshing allowance. The clear blue sky and the sweet serenade of local birds were our alarm clock. I made Hubs a superior omelet with an enviable cast iron skillet. The simplest of ingredients real butter, fresh farm eggs, modest brown bread prepared over a gas flame-all premium components for a stellar end result. With tummies full, we drove the short distance to Melmerby Beach on the Northumberland Shore.
Our original walk we had mapped out was derailed due to closure. Instead, we walked along the sea shelled beach, the turbulent water domineered an astounding ovation of thunderous white capped waves. The imposing roar and energetic pull of the of the undulating Northumberland Strait evoked a vacuum of welcome isolation.
Returning back to the B&B we reveled in the act of nothingness It was on this day I started my writing-chipping away at the herculean and cherished art of word mastery.
Day 9 Cheticamp
As our time in Egerton was coming to an end, we relished our fleeting pause. The Bird in the Hand B&B was the best of all worlds. An obligation free 48 hours that provided a strategically placed reset at the halfway point. The essential reboot granted an optical palate cleanser as the threshold for visual beauty had reached its maximum capacity. These 2 days were bookended by spectacular nature and unapologetic laziness.
We began the 3-hour journey to stunning Cheticamp on Cape Breton Island . We navigated North accumulating the most miles. We were entirely alone on the rural roads.
During our short 8 days Autumn had flourished upon the landscape, painting the countryside in a spectrum of pungent scarlet, deep brassy greens and gilded gold.
We made a pitstop at The Farmers Daughter-a country chic farm store with a little bit of everything and anything. The “down-home” space is packed with an eclectic array of high-end well-made goods. Even with our strong American dollar and favorable exchange, the prices were too much to justify.
We eventually made it to our quarters for the next 2 days. This portion of our sojourn becomes a bit mentally chaotic. A constant reshuffling, repacking and reassembling became burdensome-only because of my inability to downsize. Hubs duty became reorienting me, keeping me abreast of our now rapidly changing schedule.
Located on the wondrous Cabot Trail sits the red barn-resembling humble abode of the Auberge Doucet Inn. The family run establishment offered us a comfy bed, hot shower and a simple breakfast. Our room faced the gleaming blue waters of Pleasant Bay. It had been a long day of driving for the Hubs, and some much-needed restoration was needed for him.
Up until now, we had run into very few people and little to no children. Stampeding above us with restless tenacity was a small but mighty brood of tiny tots with a remarkable amount of pent-up punchiness. The trampling, yelping and overhead commotion triggered the first telltale signs of homesickness for me.
Travel fatigue set in causing a heavy cloak of malaise that burrowed deep in my bones. I attempted a walk to ward off the inevitable. I made my way down the road as cars raced by me in aggressive haste. The sun rays burned through me like a vulnerable ant under a microscope. I moved with sluggish apathy as febrile achiness made my mobility feel like quicksand. With the weight of the weariness bearing upon me like a heavy anchor, I opted instead for cold medicine, a steamy bath, and some hot soup.
Day 10 The Cabot Trail
Awakened before dawn from the rambunctious offspring, our day started earlier than we would have preferred. For 9 days the weather had been sublime. Sunshine, cool air, no humidity and clear skies. But on this day, the conditions deteriorated into gray sky, sideways rain and intense wind gusts. Although I was in a cold medicine induced haze, I was beginning to feel better. Due to the elements-most of this day would be studied by the warmth of the passenger seat of the Jetta. But nonetheless some of the most arresting views and striking vistas were captured on this day.
The Cabot Trail consists of 185 miles that loop around Cape Breton Highland National Park and climbs through forested plateaus and quaint fishing villages. The most popular hiked trail is the Skyline Trail. It is full of thrilling cliffs, spontaneous whale sightings and ample wildlife. However, it was closed due to high winds. We were more than content to simply from the comfort and safety of the car.
Hubs finessed his way through the winding roads with outstanding vehicular proficiency. As our ears popped, in the preferred clockwise route, we scaled the desolate trail. The gloomy sky and pelting on and off rain served as our copilot. With many stop off opportunities, we pulled over to witness the crashing white waves of the vast Gulf of Saint Lawrence dauntingly below us. From an intoxicating bird’s eye perspective, we fought to steady ourselves against the penetrating wind gusts.
We continued on periodically passing souvenir gift shops and specialty stores boasting the best, cheapest, most splendid mementos of the region. I of course fell for it each time. In truth, it was the final week of the season and what was left was the vestiges and scraps of a lucrative and fruitful year. Left for our amusement was the forgotten freezer burnt bubblegum ice cream and the stale overpriced maple candy.
At Neil’s Harbour we stopped-enticed by the suggestion of Chowder. The tiny postage stamp village of 300 permanent residents-mostly of the lobster and crab industry. The rain began to ramp up and The Chowder House served as a literal a port in the storm. The warmth inside along with the hearty, creamy soup served as an immediate shelter from the turbulent swells and whistling gales outside.
Day 11 Cabot Trail South/Baddeck
With 3 days left and 2 more hotel stops, we were at the main stretch. The funk I had been feeling had mercifully dissipated coinciding with the welcome sun reemerging. Yesterday’s gloom was just a distant memory. Auberge Doucet Inn served as a handy gateway into the park. Hovering on the fringes of sickness the much-needed downtime helped accelerate recovery.
We continued on the Cabot Trail going counterclockwise taking the South route towards Baddeck. We backtracked in a figure 8 mirror image of yesterday’s route-just in the opposite direction. But, instead of the rain, fog and grey skies we had glorious sunshine.
We were wrapping up our audio novel Anne of Green Gables. We were fully immersed in the story and although it was written in 1908 it continues to hold up in today’s time. Arriving in Baddeck we went straight to the Alexander Grahm Bell National Historic Site and Museum located in the Bras d’ Or Lake UNESCO Biosphere Reserve and also the home the Mi’kmaq People and their descendants.
The museum provides a comprehensive review of Alexander Graham Bell’s life, his greatest invention-the telephone, contributions to the deaf and the not widely known influence with Helen Keller.
The self-guided tour ends with a real size replica of the first powered air machine to fly in Canada-the Silver Dart. Bell had a major impact on the aviation world with his innovative creations and his groundbreaking fearless spirit.
We checked into our hotel The Silver Dart Lodge. I was beginning to feel homesick and transitioning mentally to the approaching end. The simple room had a smashing view of the Bras d’Or Lake. We sat on the petite shared deck watching the sun set.
The small village was full of gimmicky all you can eat lobster joints. The hotel recommended Lobster Galley for dinner.
The family run popular restaurant has been satisfying lobster lovers for over 40 years. We chowed down facing a postcard lookout of St. Anns Harbour. Hubs cracked, twisted and manhandled the succulent Lobster, eagerly dredging through the glistening butter bath. I chomped away at a plate full of Caeser salad. The meal concluded with a sweet, nectarous strawberry shortcake.
Day 12 Antigonish/Elmsdale
I awoke to a dreamlike cherry blossom-streaked sky. I jogged along the oddly busy main street. Car exhaust and loud engines overpowered my attempts at mental mindfulness. I tried to make my way to the water’s edge but succumbed eventually due to unfavorable running conditions.
We left Baddeck crisscrossing our way, town names flashing in front of us overlapping from the beginning of our journey. Deep rich autumn color bursts outlined our route. Fall had surfaced, a crescendo of pigmentation spreading out like a saturated canvas in front of us. We stopped in Antigonish known as the “Highland Heart of Nova Scotia” and home to St. Francis Xavier University.
The eclectic college town was deserted as it was an early Sunday morning. We walked the empty main street envisioning what this college town was like on a hopping Friday night. Everything was closed with the exception of Moonlight Chinese Restaurant. My tummy rebelled at the notion of Asian cuisine, but I kept Hubs company as he poked the greasy slop with disinterest.
Our last evening was in Elmsdale a community on the outskirts just minutes from Halifax where we would depart the next day. Driving up to the Briarwood Bed and Breakfast one is instantly transported in time. The home dates back to 1862. It sits on 60 acres of land and is nestled at the end of a lane that certainly predated the rest of the town.
We were escorted to the Thistle Room-a cozy corner, a tiny nook of the household that would eventually be full to capacity. My first reaction was fear and claustrophobia. A TV from the 80’s with a VCR sat next to some other relics from a bygone era.
But stay with me here, we wandered outside, peak Autumn conditions surrounded us. The sun bounced off the carpet soft emerald, green sprawling lawn. A softness my feet have never felt and likely will not ever again.
We walked along the margins of the backyard as the property seemed to unfold going on for what seemed like infinity. The fall foliage was in blazing pageantry and the most intense spectrum we had witnessed thus far. Throughout our riveting scavenger hunt, I was most amazed that after 13 days-my eyes could still react to beauty around me. I was worried I had reached my permissable allotment for a lifetime.
We found some shade under a massive tree, rested in Adirondack chairs as hollow acorns unforgivingly plunked down around us. We sat in a reclined state for a heavenly amount of time.
Only hunger stirred us to our feet. For dinner, we went to the few restaurants in town the Millstone Public House. The hockey themed bar/restaurant was full of energetic locals. We enjoyed good, hot, tasty pub grub. We returned back to the B&B for our last night in Nova Scotia.
Day 13 Halifax/Home
Waking up on our final day, I felt we had accomplished what we had set out to do-embracing the Nova Scotian way of life. We joined the other guests for breakfast. We toured the rooms leading to the dining space, afraid to touch the priceless heirlooms on display.
We dined with four other Canadian couples all at the beginning of extensive itineraries. Energetically we were out of sync as we were dwindling down our time, and they were all ramping up. Between the small talk and awkward niceties, a precarious jar of coveted homemade berry preserves lost its grip breaking up the beautiful still life spread creating a sticky, oozy (frankly unforgivable) mess (thankfully not caused by us). We decided that was a sign to hightail it out of there for Halifax.
After 13 days of continuous marvel and nonstop amusement, I did not think there was anything left that could intrigue me. But as we entered Halifax, I quickly learned that there was indeed more to see.
We only had a little over an hour to fully absorb all of which we could cram in this short span of time. We had done extensive research on Halifax and last minute we swapped out a city experience for wilderness. We parked and descended onto the pristine Harbourwalk, one of the longest continuous boardwalks in the world.
Berthed colossal cruise ships offer easy ship to shore accessibility. The backdrop of old-world brick buildings converge with modern glass architecture for a pleasing aesthetic. With limited time and end even less Canadian currency, we skirted by nautical themed tempting kiosks and luring maritime merch. Conveniently planted hammocks, Adirondacks and other unique seating offerings hugged the entire length of the boardwalk’s promenade for prime viewing opportunities.
With time ticking away, we feasted on our final meal at Asia Restaurant. The Asian fusion cuisine was one of the best and memorable meals of our trip. The unique Monkey themed décor was a special touch as we were led to a balcony.
We sat outside overlooking the harbor. We people watched as we devoured pappadam and chutney, exotic dumplings and buttery naan. It was the perfect sendoff and finale to a phenomenal 13 days.
Epilogue
Nova Scotia was a departure from our usual European extravaganza. We had a packed itinerary, but we also took it easy with little pressure. Gone are the days of museum death marches during the day followed by all-nighter operas in the evening.
This was a good old fashioned road trip full of nature, fresh air, exquisite foliage, maritime brilliance, sublime weather, yummy food and lots of rest all alongside my best friend. We engaged with interesting people, learned a culture that we previously knew very little and most importantly reconnected with each other. It is only in the retelling of this journey do I now realize the spell Nova Scotia left on me.
Next on the agenda, March 2026 -Florence Italy
A Girl Her Hubs and a Suitcase 