Touring Nova Scotia with a friend September 25-29, 1978

Over the past several days I’ve again met up with the ‘more-than-a friend’ from Vancouver who previously joined me in Georgian Bay at the end of July.  He’s living in Calgary now, which while good for his career, is not so great for his social life (having spent a little time there myself, I am not surprised).  He’s never been to the Maritimes before, and was particularly keen to visit Nova Scotia and the Cabot Trail, especially at this time of year, when fall turns the leaves of the maples red and the birches yellow.  So we agreed to do it together.

We packed a lot into the next five days – a lot of driving and sight-seeing – and spent our evenings around campfires, talking long into the night.  Went to bed already half-asleep, and got up early to break camp and hit the road again.  I didn’t open my journal, didn’t write even one word during this time.  But I did take a lot of photos, each one worth at least a few dozen words, if not a thousand.

 

We headed east from Truro, across the Strait of Canso to Cape Breton Island.

 ...and followed the northern coastline of the Island to Inverness Beach, where we spent our first night.  We sat together on a desolate beach and watched as the sun sank into the ocean, and a dusky rose hue coloured sky and land, seeing all through proverbial ‘rose-coloured glasses’.  We listened to the rhythm of the waves, scratching at the sand, pulling it deeper into its watery embrace, crashing against rocks, wearing them down, softening their edges.  

I indulged a sudden love of little rocks – colourful little gems – making ever-changing patterns in the sand as the waves swept over them and back, over them and back.

 I filled my pockets, then a bag, with ‘special rocks’.  I have them still – my Inverness Beach Rocks.

 

The next morning we stopped at a local cemetery, old white markers in a field of little pink wildflowers, overlooking the sea.  When my time comes, I can think of no better place to rest.

And then we began our 'scenic drive' – the famous Cabot Trail around Cape Breton, where spectacular views unfolded around each bend.  As luck would have it, it was a foggy day, but the mists in a way made things more magical, the coastline gradually disappearing into the haze.

 

        Note: for more information on the Cabot Trail go to:  https://www.cabottrail.travel

We stopped for the night at Cape Breton Highlands National Park – another Canadian gem with gorgeous forests and fabulous coastlines on both sides of the Island.  In later evening we went to White Point, which is almost, but not quite, at the northern tip of the Cape.  The setting sun was losing its battle with the heavy fog, but in its dying gasp turning the entire scene blood red and inky black.  

 

 

 

The next morning we continued on, through Sydney, to Louisbourg, where we spent several hours exploring the old fortress.  In the 1700s, Louisbourg was not only the capital of l’Ile Royale (Cape Breton Island), but also a thriving seaport, a key centre of trade with France, and a military post.  As with many of Canada’s wonderful National Historic Sites, all of the buildings had been beautifully and faithfully restored, and all of the ‘staff’ were in period costumes, and stuck to their roles as soldiers, sailors, farriers, bakers, and bankers, refusing to engage in any conversations that required knowledge of things that didn’t exist during the time of the fort.  

 

 

                                        Note: for more information about Louisbourg go to:  

                        https://www.pc.gc.ca/en/lhn-nhs/ns/louisbourg/decouvrir-discover/histoire-history  

From there we carried on along the slower coastal road between Cape Breton and Halifax instead of the shorter route, inland through Truro.  We made endless stops at little towns and parks along the way.  When we got to Halifax we took a little stroll, then crossed the bridge to Dartmouth, about 10 minutes away.  

 

 

                                                    Halifax harbour, from Dartmouth.   

One of our favourite stops, just outside of Dartmouth, was Peggy’s Cove, a rocky headland with great views of the lighthouse.  

We lunched there among worn and wind-swept, boulders and rocks, their soft grey and white colours almost glowing in the sunlit day.  They looked almost surreal, like a two-dimensional painting.  But they were solid enough, and too big for me to add to my collection, though I would have liked to...

It was getting late by the time we left, and maybe one of us had had a little too much wine....?

 

The skies brightened and we carried on through Lunenburg, stopping only briefly to take an iconic photo of some good old boys at the Lunenburg Outfitting Co., so red against the now blue-blue sky.  

 

Not far out of Lunenburg we came to what was, I think, our most favourite place in all of Nova Scotia  – Hirtle’s Beach.  At first it was unassuming enough, just another little village on the southeastern coast of Nova Scotia, with a nice beach.

We set up camp at nearby Rissers Beach Provincial Park, and headed into town for an incredible lobster dinner at the community hall, a real local affair and fund-raiser for the town. The lobster dinner was excellent, but truly it was the pies – lemon meringue, apple, and peach, all made by local ladies, that stole the show.  Earlier in the day we'd taken some pics of lobster traps, which were strewn about everywhere, testimony to the ubiquity of lobster here in Nova Scotia.

 

After dinner, we went back down to Hirtle’s Beach after dinner, and again sat together watching the sun go down.  And oh, what colours!  This was my friend’s last night, and this seemed a fitting ending – a great meal and a spectacular show.  

  

 

On my friend’s last day we headed to Digby, stopping in Yarmouth to admire and photograph the flotillas of colourful boats in the harbour.  

 

And then our little time together was over: my friend caught the Digby ferry to Saint John, from whence he was flying back to Calgary, and work;  and I carried on to the Annapolis Valley.