Day Seventeen

This is The End

Well, this is it. I’m a little sad that the trip is over. Its been fun blogging it. Thanks for all your hits, and all your attention. I know that I could just keep on writing, but…..I like the special occasion of it all. So….until next time….

One last shot for you–bugs from four provinces and one state. Enjoy!

Day Sixteen

So, we left our fine hosts in the Eastern Townships and moved on to our most-oft-visited hosts, Brother Joe and his fine wife, Miss Betsy.

It was, in fact, a special day for my brother. Although he doesn’t much like the focus, it was impossible for us to drive by the bridge to the USA without stopping in and sharing a glass of grappa on his birthday.
Where would any of us be without his constant questioning the current wisdom, without his challenging our beliefs and making us explain them to him and ourselves, without his gracious good nature and his most giving heart, without his strong sense of family and inclusion, without his deep, unbending affection for us all? Where would I be? Lost.

‘Love you, brother.

Day Fifteen

This is what I am looking at as I write

We left Riviere du Loup and had a leisurely drive down the Sainte Francois River Valley to end up at North Hatley. The Progeny will remember that as the site of our one great ski adventure, Hovey Manor. As beautiful as the lake was in the winter, the summer brings out its best.
We’ve come to visit the Pilgrim’s good friend, Lucinda, and her husband Brian. More lovely people you will never find. Warm and gracious, thoughtful and smart, its been a quick, but rewarding visit.

We arrived and took a much need walk up the hill behind their house, just to stretch the legs and get some air. And the view of the lake was worth the trip.

Back down the hill for a swim.

Then a lovely dinner on the porch, good conversation and to bed sleeping in that velvety air that you only find once a year, if you’re lucky.

Day Fourteen

Friday.

Five years ago, it took the Pilgrim and I thirty days to walk 770 kilometers. Today it took one day to drive over a thousand.
We’ve had many journeys, she and I.

Our day started at this house in the Margaree Valley.

And ended at this one in Riviere du Loup.

And this is what we saw in between.

Not much else to say. We did everything in the car, including write this post.

I’ve got to go to bed.

Say Goodnight to the St. Lawrence.

Day Thirteen

Thursday

3000 kilometers. Five tanks of gas. And about eight new pounds.Time to go home. Day thirteen was our rest day, before the start of the long trek back. And it rained all day long.

Rain, hell….stormed. King Lear –type storm. Look at the ocean…..

Luckily, we had a cozy fireplace in our cozy home, so we could snooze, read, listen to the rain, and generally mellow out.

Until the power went out.

Then ,we mounted up and toured around the Margaree
Valley. Starting with a tour of the only single malt distillery in North America.

The tour was a bit of a bust, and the taste of scotch they gave at the end was so small, no one could really tell what their scotch tastes like. Oh, well, it was warm inside.
We went back home and the Pilgrim played with the horses

Because the power was still out, supper at the Normaway
was reduced to soup and salad and their fabulous porridge bread,
so we got full somehow.
Right at the end of dinner, the lights came back on, so the barn ceilidh went ahead, and this is where you’ll have to use your imagination, because there is no way to describe how remarkable this evening turned out. We have no pictures, no sound recordings, no film. Just our memories.
The stage was full of seven players—three fiddlers, a flute player, a guitarist, and a young boy on banjo and mandolin. They played real Acadian music. More than this I cannot say. The best music of the trip. I only wish you had all been there. Truly. They played the clouds away.

We danced our way to bed under the dome of stars.

Day Twelve

Day Twelve

Wednesday

The Cabot Trail. This day was really the reason for the whole trip (besides a visit with the Eldest)
and what a glorious day it was!
The weather was perfect, the road not too crowded, the drive dramatic, and the scenery breathtaking.
Obviously, one of those experiences almost not worth photographing, because all pictures fade in comparison
to the real thing. Its best sometimes to leave those pictures in your mind. But here are a few tidbits.

The furthest we got was to Meat Cove.

The Pilgrim wanted me to tell the Best Friend that its where “the Appalachian Range finally falls into the sea”.

It feels like the end of the earth. Eight kilometers of gravel road to get here…and there is no where else to go. Look at map of Nova Scotia, let your eyes wander up to the very tip, and you’ll find Meat Cove.
Luckily, they had wireless internet, so the postings could go on.

Back into the Living Room for the journey up and down three mountains….switchbacks looking out at the Gulf of the St. Lawrence, just glad I wasn’t driving. Beautiful sights.
We had to stop because we thought we saw a whale.

This is the eco-friendly whale watching that the Middle Child likes to espouse. From a great distance. But we did see her crest!

Anyway, back down the mountain and to our new hideaway, the Normaway in the Margaree Valley. Spectacular place. We have a “chalet”….which means a screened-in porch with a wooden swing and a fold-down desk, looking out at the horse pasture. Dinner was good and local, and we were sent a bottle of wine from our new friend, Adrienne Molloy, all the way from Halifax.
Thanks, Adrienne, what a fabulous surprise!

Afterwards, the Ceilidh (pronounced Kay-lee) in the Barn.

Three fiddlers, and an old man on the spoons. It turned into a square dance at the end of the evening, and the best part about that was three sets of four couples…one of local regulars, one mix of locals and tourists, and one of the younger generation, all teenagers, everyone having fun and dancing up a storm. Literally.
Rained all night.

Day Eleven

Rainy Tuesday

Not much of a day, really. Sorry to complain, but it kinda rained all day. We set off after cook’s-morning-off-pancakes prepared by a young lady seen reading a cookbook in the kitchen. Bad sign.
And then we drove up to Cape Breton. The End.

All right, there were a few adventures. Here’s a shot from the middle of the Canso Causeway that connects Cape Breton Island to the rest of Canada…

We stopped off at the world famous Red Barn for lunch, mostly because the literature said that it had “two Award Winning Gift Shops”. Two? We had to stop.
Our waitress was fabulous, as were the scallops.

Then we stopped off at the Alexander Graham Bell Centre near his home in Baddeck.                                                            You can barely see his house there in the rain.

Mostly because the Pilgrim had read “Reluctant Genius” in preparation for this trip, we had to stop.                                    But he was a truly remarkable man, and these exhibits prove it.

Back on the road, there was only one more place I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t talk the Missus into it….

We found our new home, a lovely spot called the Gowrie House in Sydney Mines.

We drove around Sydney Mines and North Sydney, but in the rain it all looked a little sad.                                                      So we repaired back to our overdecorated rooms,

Had a read, a snooze, and then another lovely dinner of local foods.                                                                                   Strawberry soup to start, roasted tomato and pesto salad, Lamb for me and salmon for her,                                                 and the dessert was free, so the calories don’t count.

Good night, all.

Day Ten

Happy Natal Day!!!
Not sure what that means, but its what we’re celebrating down east today. Tea and toast, packed and hugged, the Pilgrim and I took our leave from the Eldest (I didn’t really cry) and the Comforts of Kline and hit the road again. The MacDonald Bridge was closed so that the Halagonian citizenry could celebrate in style–by walking over to Dartmouth?            
Anyways…a friendly cop redirected us and we were on our way. A pleasant stop at an old sawmill town…

Sheet Harbour                 

 leftover pork sandwiches and Diet DP. A feast!
Halfway down the road, we took a little cable ferry to continue on our way.

As the Pilgrim pointed out: “The second boat ride of our trip”. After Brother Joe zoomed us up The River.
We lingered on the journey to see the old lighthouse at Port Bickerton

Now a community-run museum after it had fallen into disrepair, we learned a little and admired a lot.Back on the meandering trail to the town of Guysborough, and our stop at the DesBarres Manor.

And what manor it was, in a manner of speaking. Beautiful rooms and the chef cooked fresh, fresh, fresh….

after we ordered, Chef himself went out to the garden to pick the herbs that went on the dishes we had selected.
Local smoked salmon on a home-made biscuit for me, followed by a humus-stuffed chicken breast, and Lobster bisque for the Missus followed by locally caught halibut, that chef was filleting as we walked in.
And look how pretty she looked at dinner.

Now there’s a picture, eh?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESSE!!!

We can’t let the day go by with out wishing the best of days to the middle child, Jesse Paul Rock.

We are almost as far east in Canada as he is west. It’d be excellent if one of these years we could celebrate together.

Cin, Cin, Jesse! Slainte!

Day Nine

Sunday.

Our last day in the ‘Fax.
Cuzzy’s still working, so your humble narrator was in charge of the bacon ‘n eggs to start our day sunny-side-up.

Our plan was to drive to Chester, a pretty little harbour town down the south shore, to go to a play that a friend of the Eldest’s was directing at a lovely old theatre, the Chester Playhouse…

So, KRR put the pedal to the metal and drove the Crispies down shore.

The play was good, Cape Breton’s own AnnMarie MacDonald’s “Goodnight Desdemona, Good Morning Juliet”.
The production was good, the crowd was small, but appreciative. We met Greg, the friend, who had to fly right after the show, because he was helping his father smoke some ribs in the backyard. A bar-b-q fan. I liked him very much.

We walked aroiund the town a little bit,

but it was getting dagerously close to nap time. So, KRR in charge of the charger again, got us back to Kline just in time.

A little rest, then a big bar-b-q feast of our own, after the Only-Working-Man-In-The-House finished his day.

Thanks to the Innkeepers on Kline for a fabulous stay. Warm and welcoming, and free pets to keep you company,
I give this place five stars and highly reccommend it to everyone travelling to the East.

Tomorrow, back on the road. But I bet this is the nicest place we stay on the whole trip.

Day Eight

Saturday

The day started out great! Your humble narrator won a free Dr. Pepper! The day could only go downhill from here.

But not right away. First the Ladies and I went to Janes on the Commons for a lovely little brunch. Shrimp cakes and poached eggs for me…and I don’t care what anyone else ordered, because mine was delicious. Nothing like fresh seafood.
A leisurely walk back, and then we went to Bedford for supplies–out to the fancy store. Well worth the trip.

We came back and took the Bosco out for a walk, just to stretch all eight of our legs.

Then the Pilgrim and I made some Indian food. Chicken Tikka, rice, potatoes and cauliflower, and a cucumber raita.
Old buddy Andrew was in town, so he came over to help celebrate Saturday.

After the only working man in the house came home, we all just sat around in the backyard, eating, drinking, and generally having fun.

and, before you knew it, it was time for bed.

Day Seven

Friday

another glorious (and sadly for Torontonians) not-too-hot day in the Fax.
We started with a nice walk in the park….and all the way up the Dingle Tower…..

…and guess who else made it all the way to the top…..

(for more info, click on picture)

After wandering back to the Inn on Kline and dutifully posting, The Cuzzmaster and I set ourselves a new Ultimatum:

(Shocking how much he looks like your humble narrator, isn’t it?) Good movie, lotsa action, lotsa cars blow up.
The first 7/8 of the film is a chase scene and the last 1/8 explains what we’ve been chasing.
But we both liked it and had a good time. (The Bud the Spud fries beforehand couldn’t have hurt either.

Back for a nap in the hammock and a backyard game of scrabble.

I was the one napping, so I didn’t even ask who won, but I’m guessing the Librarian.

Then, the eldest came home and it was the time of the Handing-Over-Of-The Parents. Cuzzy’s week-end was ending, and the Eldest’s was just beginning. so, naturally, we went out to celebrate. Dinner and a movie.

Dinner was Hamachi Steak House–yum, yum. I started with what was called “An Executive Martini”–(Grey Goose with a splash of single malt scotch) which the Pilgrim said she heard later on in the night. Steak of some sort for everyone but Daddy–who thought it was time for his first East Coast lobster.
Again, I say, yum, yum.

And for the movie, you ask? To celebrate Natal Day, the city of Halifax was projecting “The Big Lebowski” on the side of a building down at the Harbor. City officials were unsure of the popularity of an event like this…whether people would come out to see an old movie. But you know what happened……

Oh, yes….they came. Some even brought their own couch.
(Jesse—-click on the picture below)

the Dude abides.

Day six

Thursday

Back in the ‘Fax

This is the scene that greeted us as we arrived at the Comforts of Kline Inn.

Our first whole day on the coast was just fine. Poor Katie had to work.
Weather was glorious (although we heard that TO was positively stinky)
so we double-dated on a walk through the woods, but only one of us went swimming.

The rest of us just rested.

At least until it was time for lunch. We went on down to the Soho Grill on Argyle for a burger and a beer, which no one ordered.

Then, of course, there was the street business that always happens when JPR is away.

The afternoon was work for Katie, work for Jamie, and Brewtender for Cuzzy and Casey.

But the Boss recovered enough to make the world famous Cuzzadillas, which somebody was too hungry to photograph. (ahem).

The evening ended with Sarah and Dominic getting asked to leave “So You Think You Can Dance” It made me so sad I had to go to bed. (sigh).

Day Five

WEDNESDAY

Our day in Saint John….three tours by three teenage girls. Walking, window shopping, and driving, driving, driving…all the way to another province.

First, the Pilgrim and I packed our room, loaded the chariot, and hiked over to the Imperial Theatre
(about to be rescued by the Eldest)

and got toured by Sabrina—who wants to be an actor, director and producer—so she can’t decide between Ryerson and York. She showed us all around the beautiful, old theatre, upstairs and down.

And it is a grand, lovely place. A joy to see.

Then, after breakfast at Cora’s,

we dropped in to Loyalist House, for the Mayor’s Tea. And a tour by Christine–a cute girl from Rothesay, wearing a period dress, sneakers and braces. Although she didn’t know the name of the current mayor, she recognized ex-Mayor Teed, who really wanted us to have some more tea in the room where the portrait’s eyes followed you across the room. We declined and moved off to the next tour.

The Jewish Museum.

Led by a reluctant and shy, but beautiful young lady who told us that the Jewish community has gone from 300 families in the 1960s to 30 families today. A rabbi visits from Halifax, but only when the community calls for him. A miracle that they can keep a museum open.

Then, weary and walked-out, we went to Tea Infussions for an infusion of tea and a foots-up,

until the Eldest finished her long and arduous, but completely successful, day.
Three travelers in the chariot now, we zoomed to the ‘Fax, where Sir Cuzzy of Blogs had killed us a pie and a salad, and just in time, too for these three nearly cranky cranks. And what a clean house!
Oohs, ahhs, and a new Raptors shirt for the Cuzz-man.

“So You Think You Can Dance?” The perfect end to a perfect day.