Road Tripping I

Judy. You know we prefer staying in one place for a few days to a lot of road tripping, but for the past two weeks we’ve broken that rule and road tripped around Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. It’s been eye-opening.

Fredericton

Gary and Sally, friends from home, arrived shortly after we moved out of our Airbnb in Halifax, and we set off in search of Sally’s ancestry. Her son has done extensive family research, but Sally wanted to see where her grandmother, a Home Child from England, landed in Nova Scotia with her sisters, and where she was married, so after a brief but wonderful visit with Mary Lou and Walt and a visit to Port-Royal, we took the ferry across the Bay of Fundy to New Brunswick. In St. John we found the grave of a great-uncle, and in Fredericton (a town we all fell in love with), she toured the cathedral where her grandparents were married. This really gave our trip a personal touch. At the Art Gallery, we saw more Emily Carr paintings, an exhibit of the Group of Seven, and learned about Lord Beaverton, who donated the museum and tons of other stuff in the town.

Sally and friend

All the while, we did our best to put lobster on the endangered species list…

Flowerpots, Bay of Fundy

After Fredericton, we headed to Moncton to walk on the ocean floor at the Bay of Fundy and marvel at the “flowerpots”, the islands that become towers when the tide’s out. That evening I watched my first tidal bore, as the tide from the Bay of Fundy reversed the current of the Petitcodiac River (also known as the Chocolate River). We finished up at Magnetic Hill, one of those optical illusion places where you put the car in neutral and back up the hill!

We visited Le Pays de la Sagouine, a cultural center based on the stories of Antonine Maillet, where we experienced Acadian culture in a living museum.

Le Pays de la Sagouine

Actors portrayed characters from her books and interacted with us. And we heard some really fine Acadian music—which, not surprisingly, sounds like Cajun music.

Unfortunately, it was time for Gary and Sally to head home, so after a wonderful week, we sent them off and started off on our own adventure through Cape Breton Island.

Cape Breton sunset

Cape Breton is not like anyplace I’ve ever been. We learned that when the Acadians returned, they were allowed to establish villages, but only those that were separated by “English” villages. Meanwhile, the English set up the “Highland Clearances”, in order to get rid of the small farms in Scotland and let their sheep graze. So in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, huge numbers of Scottish farmers settled on

At Forteresse Louisbourg

Cape Breton as well. As we drove around the island, we followed the Fleur de Lis trail to Sydney and to Louisbourg, where we visited the restoration of the Fortresse built here in the seventeenth century. Think Williamsburg.

Party in Port Hood

We followed the Cabot Trail through fishing villages and mountains to the Ceilidh Trail and stopped at the Glenora Distillery. In Chéticamp, an Acadian village with a Mi’kmaw (First Nations Tribe) name, we heard Celtic music. In Ingonish we saw a killer sunset and heard Canadian folk music. In Port Hood we went to the Murphy Pond Music Festival and drank beer with lobster fisherman, descendants of the coal miners who lost their job and almost lost their town when the mine flooded, and listened to an afternoon of country music. Their strong faces said it all.

We’ve stayed in upscale hotels; been “upgraded “ to a room with a doorbell outside and a spa tub in the bedroom; spent the night in a hotel right out of 1930; slept in bare-bones motel rooms where the sound of the surf sent us into deep slumber; and settled into historic B&B’s

Room at the Royal Hotel, Sydney

Hillcrest House, Port Hood

Along the way, we’ve met kind people, eaten fabulous food, seen incredible scenery, and learned about a way of life we couldn’t have imagined. We’ve seen pride in ancestry and acceptance of others. One night, we saw the Acadian flag tattooed on our waitress’s ankle.

Canadian and Acacian flags

She told us that she had it done when she went to Alberta for work. She felt the need to identify who she is, especially when she was far away. And now she’s home.

Halifax vs Vancouver

Ted.  We have just about wrapped up our month in Halifax, Nova Scotia and I’ve been comparing this stay with our experience last year in Vancouver, British Columbia. These two cities have much in common but there are also some distinct differences.

Downtown Halifax

Both cities are on an ocean and see a steady stream of cruise ships. Both exemplify that general Canadian niceness. For example, cars yield to pedestrians and people stand patiently at cross walks until the sign says to “walk.” The climate in summer is similar, i.e. much cooler than most of the US. The cost of things we buy seems roughly the same but the sales tax is 15% here and only 12% in BC.

We prefer the wine in BC but both cities have lots of great beers. In fact, Nova Scotia has 10 times the number of craft breweries per capita as Georgia (and Clark - twice as many per capita as Minnesota!)

The biggest difference is that Halifax is a whole lot smaller. There are about 400,000 folks in the metro area versus 2.5 million in greater Vancouver. Halifax is also much less diverse. About 85% of the Haligonians (yep, that’s what they’re called) are of European descent, whereas nearly 50% of the people in Vancouver are of Asian descent. This is apparent in the restaurants as well. Halifax focuses on traditional east coast seafood like chowder, lobster, scallops and fish & chips whereas Vancouver has hundreds of great Asian places.

Since it is so small, it is easy to get anywhere on "the Peninsula" (central Halifax) by foot or bus very quickly. We have rented cars for day trips on two occasions and in 15 minutes we are out in the country.

Nova Scotia has rolling hills, not snow-capped mountains. The rocky coast is gentler but nice, and I’m told the water is warmer.

It may be because of the size of the community but folks seem generally more open and chatty here. Now, we did spend a good bit of time in suburban North Vancouver and we found folks there to be friendlier than those across the harbor. Again, a smaller community often means more open citizens. Interestingly, we have only seen a handful of homeless people and no panhandlers in Halifax whereas they are omnipresent and occasionally irritating in Vancouver.

The history of Europeans in Nova Scotia is richer and far older than that in British Columbia but more of the First Nations traditions have survived in BC. There are good museums and galleries in both cities.

Halifax is sort of a mini-Boston whereas Vancouver is a Canadian Seattle. Each is great but I have to say that I feel a bit more relaxed in Halifax, largely because of the smaller scale. Southerners might relate to the difference between the similarly sized North Carolina cities of Asheville and Charlotte. 

We have enjoyed each city for what it has to offer and hope to return to both. But first, we have more of Canada to explore. It’s a big dadgum country!

Another refugee story

Ted. Our tour of Nova Scotia led us to two Canadian National Historic Sites; Port Royal and Grand Pré ("Big Meadow" in English). The Annapolis River Valley was once on the front lines in a centuries-long fight between the British and the French.

Exterior of recreated compound at Port Royal

Port Royal was founded as a French trading settlement in 1605, five years before Jamestown. The compound was burned to the ground by the Brits in 1613 because their turf (Virginia!) was being infringed upon. 

Interior

But that was just the start, as this area repeatedly changed hands between these two superpowers over the decades. Becoming British once again in 1713, a series of small wars led the Brits to conclude that all French speaking Catholics needed to be removed so that English speaking Protestants could take their place. As it turns out, ethnic cleansing wasn’t a 20^th century invention!

From 1755-1764, 80% of all Acadians (more than 10,000 men, women and children) were stripped of their property and forcibly deported from Grand Pré and the other French communities in what became known as The Great Expulsion.

Grand Pré Unesco World Heritage Site

Actually, none of them went straight to Louisiana (as I erroneously stated in my previous post). They were mostly shipped to the English colonies in North America. Tossed onto distant shores with virtually nothing but the clothes on their backs, speaking a different language and practicing a different religion, the Acadians somehow survived. Over the following decades, the descendants of this diaspora scattered across the continent with some even returning to Europe. And yes, a number did end up in Louisiana. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was deeply moved upon hearing the tragic story of a young Acadian refugee who had travelled across North America searching for her lost love, Gabriel. In 1847 he immortalized her story in an epic poem, Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie.  

Statue commemorating Evangeline with memorial chapel

When we see the unprecedented numbers of refugees wandering the earth now, it would appear that humanity has never learned a thing. It is also apparent, though, that we are an irrepressible species and, given half a chance, tend to flourish wherever we are planted. One wishes the best for today's Evangelines.