The Ocean is Never Far Away in Cape Breton

No matter where you go in Cape Breton, you are always less than an hour's drive from the ocean!  It is, after all, a small island.  Whether it be a rocky shore, a sandy beach or high cliffs looking out over the Atlantic, the ocean is very much a part of the scenery here.

One of my favourite ocean views on Cape Breton Island located at Broad Cove Beach near Ingonish.

Where the Land Meets the Sea

Cape Breton surely is a beautiful place where the rolling hills of The Highlands and rugged coastline meet the Atlantic Ocean.

Hopefully soon, I will be doing one of my favourite road trips in the whole world and heading around The Cabot Trail and enjoying views like this. 

Staycation or Nocation...What Will it Be This Year?

I always told myself  I would take at least one international trip once a year for as long as I live.  Than the Coronavirus happened.  I live in Canada and while our situation did get fairly bad for a while, we seem to be flattening the curve.  My province wasn't doing so well for a while but in June, with the help of strict social distancing practices, we managed to get our cases down to almost zero.  My specific region only had a few cases but the regulations are the same across Nova Scotia.

For a while, it looked like I wouldn't even be able to go camping in the Cape Breton Highlands (only two hours from my house) due to the strict regulations were  in place.  However, in recent weeks, those regulations have loosened and now the four Atlantic Canadian provinces have allied together to create the Atlantic Bubble.  This means that residents of Prince Edward Island, Newfoundland, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia can travel between the four provinces without the need to self-isolate for 14 days after crossing borders.  This is good news for regional travel, not so much for those wishing to travel nationally or internationally.  I've come to terms with the reality that I won't be leaving this region anytime soon.  Most likely not even this year.  And that's fine with me. After all, I live on an island that has been voted one of the most beautiful in the world and the Maritime provinces of Canada have so much to offer in terms of scenery, culture and the great outdoors.  So instead of a no-cation this year, I'll be doing a staycation.  And honestly, it's seriously overdue.  I owe it to my own backyard to explore it more and take this opportunity to really immerse myself in the surroundings I tend to take for granted.

Many things have already opened up here and many more are due to open up in the coming weeks.  I don't have any grand plans for the summer but I plan to make the most out of it as much as possible.  Although the Atlantic Bubble would give me the opportunity to travel to the other three provinces, I plan to stay right here in Cape Breton and enjoy the summer close to home.  I'll save money, spend more time with friends and family and support locally-owned businesses.  At least one camping trip in the highlands, a day trip to Inverness and Margaree on the west coast of the island and some other day trips to closer beaches and attractions are definitely in store.  However, much of the summer will be spent right here in New Waterford where I'll spend my days catching up on some writing projects, biking to Low Point Lighthouse every morning and swimming in the refreshing waters of Dominion Beach.  If you really put your mind to it and get creative, the restrictions are really not all that bad.  Imagine the money you'll save!  When this is all over, you'll have double the amount in your travel fund if you plan accordingly.  And this will end.  And when it does, destinations around the world will be there anxiously waiting our return.  

So no matter where you are in the world, this is your opportunity to see your own backyard the way tourists do.  If strict lock downs aren't in place and things are open, get out and do what you can.  Visit local parks, admire the local scenery, visit the museums and most importantly, support local businesses because they are going to need all the help they can get to stay afloat and bounce back when this is all done.!

A Newfoundland Road Tripping Adventure

Onto Bonavista and Twillingate

An Early Morning Start

I woke up very early the day I started my road trip to Twillingate, Newfoundland.  I took a little detour through CBS (Conception Bay South for those of you are not familiar with the local lingo) instead of heading straight for the Trans Canada Highway.  I stopped for a coffee and some breakfast at the Tim Horton's in Paradise and parked at Topsail Beach to eat it and enjoy the view.

To say signage is lacking in many areas of Newfoundland is a slight understatement.  Getting turned around at least once on the trip was expected.  I drove and drove on a highway that I thought was the TCH for miles before seeing a sign that confirmed that I was in fact on the right track.  

The Unexpected Detour

I didn't plan on going to Bonavista but, at the last minute, I heard there was some icebergs in the area.  I expected there to be icebergs in Twillingate as the town is known for its spectacular iceberg sightings.  However, I heard nothing about sightings there so I took a detour to Bonavista to see what might be the only iceberg on my trip.  At Clarenville, I left the TCH and followed the signs to Bonavista only to reach a closed road.  Well, that was unexpected.  I backtracked, got lost and had to stop for directions.  The lady I spoke with made a face that told me I was not the first one to come upon this roadblock that day.  Like I said, poor signage.  She gave me an alternate route and I was on my way.

It took a little longer than expected to reach Bonavista.  I drove for a little over an hour when the thought crossed my mind that I should turn around and head back because at this rate, I would be reaching Twillingate at nightfall.  But I kept driving...and driving.  I figured if I drove that far, I might as well keep going and hopefully there would be some icebergs so the extra side trip would be worth it even if I have to drive in moose country at night.

Finally, I made it to the lovely little town of Bonavista.  I didn't have a lot of extra time so I drove straight toward the harbor and lighthouse in search of icebergs.  I did fine one very small one.  All icebergs are impressive but after witnessing some very impressive ones near St. John's over the years, this one didn't really do much for me.  I took a short cut through a gravel road (I saw this gravel road, had no idea where it went, drove down it anyway out of curiosity and it ended up being a shortcut back to the main road), met some friendly horses along the way and stopped at a Robins Donuts to grab a coffee and inquire about icebergs in the area and to get directions to a place called Amherst Cove where there supposedly was an impressive iceberg attracting visitors.

Finally....Some Icebergs!

I only had to drive for about five minutes before passing the sight indicating I found Amherst Cove.  Another few minutes later, the bay came into view and a quick scan  revealed what looked like three icebergs.  I found out later that it was actually one iceberg that first appeared in the bay with an arch going from one point to another but the arch had melted and because much of the berg is submerged under water, it looks like three separate ones. I admired that massive, ancient chunk of ice, took some pictures and went on my way.  By this point, I was way off schedule.  But it didn't matter because the iceberg made it all worth while.

I backtracked to the main highway and took the same way back to the TCH despite knowing that there was an alternate scenic route that I was heard was worth taking.  My reason for going back the same way?  It may not be what I would normally do when the opportunity is there to take another route, but the late hour, the pothole-ridden roads, the unpredictable weather and the fact that I had a room booked at a hostel in Twillingate all contributed to my decision to drive through the exact same scenery I had already seen only a couple of hours before.

On the Road Again

I don't usually speed (mostly because I'm too cheap to pay for a ticket) but even while doing ten over, everyone was blowing by me.  I stepped it up just a little...well, more like 30 over the limit just to keep up with everyone and make up time.  My logic was the person in front of me speeding would be pulled over first.  I don't know if that's the way it works or not.  I blew through Terra Nova National Park hoping all the way through that a moose wouldn't step out in front of me.

By the time I reached the turn off in Gander, the sun was starting to set.  I wanted to keep driving so I would arrive before nightfall but I was too starved to drive anymore.  I grabbed some take out at a truck stop and quickly ate it in the parking lot and was off again.  I has asked someone how much longer to Twillingate and she responded with the usual "oh not that long".  I lived in Newfoundland long enough to know what this meant; not that long usually means long by most standards.  Islanders are used to traveling back and forth between Gander and Clarenville and Gander and Stephenville and St. John's to Corner Brook.  Long drives by most mainlanders' standards.  Just a routine drive for most Newfoundlanders.

The Long Road to Twillingate

I started out on the secondary highway 340 (also known as Road to the Isles) and drove...and drove...and drove.  I drove until I reached the point where "oh not that long" was long past.  I stopped at another service station and was told it would be another hour before I reached Twillingate.  Lovely.  I had already been on that highway almost an hour.  It was like I entered some kind black hole or alternate dimension.  It took everyone else "not that long" to get there.  But me?  It felt like I just kept driving and driving on this never-ending highway.  I knew Twillingate was a coastal village but the ocean was nowhere in sight!

Checking in

Finally, I passed a sign welcoming me to the town of Twillingate and than drove for another twenty minutes until I actually reached what looked like the coastal town I had seen in pictures.  I didn't have any trouble finding my home for the night, Hi-Tides Hostel.  It was right on the main road.  I parked and checked in so I could drop my belongings off and head out to take some pictures before darkness fell and those dark clouds that were moving in opened up.

Walking through the back door of the hostel felt like walking into an old friends home.  Shoes of guests who had already arrived lined against the wall, soft lighting over a kitchen where two guests prepared a late evening snack.  The sound of an acoustic guitar being played in a cozy living area where some young backpackers from across country were hosting an impromptu jam session.  The room where I would be sleeping was dark and quiet with four bunks.  After a brief introduction to the four ladies sharing the room with me, I unpacked some things and tossed them in a locker and headed out with my camera.  It was a good thing I also brought my rain jacket because only seconds after I managed to capture a few lovely shots of the harbour, the sky opened up.  I found myself trapped in a gazebo for about twenty minutes waiting for the worse of it to pass.  It was nice though.  A beautiful scene before me, the sounds of rain drops above me and not a soul around to bother me.

Despite sharing a room with 3 other people, I slept like a baby.  The three other women in the room were quiet and I got to know them a bit better the next morning at breakfast.   All were travelers passing through Newfoundland on cross-country journeys.  I always take an interest in these people making these cross-country journeys.  I've met a lot of them over the years.  They always seem to start the journey in Newfoundland and I meet them onboard one of the ferries or while hiking the East Coast Trail.  I envy those making this journey as it is one I've been wanting to make since I can remember.  I know I will do it one day.

Exploring the Lovely Village of Twillingate

I awoke early that Sunday and realized it was Sunday.  How did I realize it was Sunday?  Everything was closed, including that lovely cafe up the street that I was wanting to visit. I drove around and found another quaint-looking cafe with a "CLOSED" sign on the door.  Breakfast ended up being a muffin and cheese sticks from a local gas station.  I headed towards St. John's but took my time going back.  I noticed some photo-worthy scenes on the way to Twillingate but I was in such a hurry to get to the hostel that I didn't have time to stop.

By early afternoon, I was back on the noisy Trans Canada Highway.  I didn't see any moose on the way back despite everyone telling me they are everywhere this year. For some strange reason, I was drawn to a sign pointing to a place called Arnold's Cove just outside Clarenville.  I turned off onto the off-ramp and found myself in a picturesque little outport village.  Sometimes it's worth it to take a random off ramp once and a while.  This was one of those times.  

Back in the City

I arrived in St. John's in the early evening and checked into the Abba Inn on Queens Rd.  With everything in order for the evening, I drove around looking for something to eat until I happened upon an open Pizza Shop.  I paid a little more than I normally would for a personal size pizza (17 dollars seems a bit much for a very small veggie pizza), but it was quite delicious.  I ate it on top of Signal Hill overlooking that magnificent view of St. John's.  I stayed there until that magnificent view went from a golden, sun-soaked downtown skyline to one drenched in darkness and street lights.  Both equally magnificent in their own way. 

Celtic Colours International Festival - It's a Wrap...Until Next Year

Cape Breton Island is world-renowned for being one of the most beautiful places on earth and the island has gained much publication and notoriety in recent years. It was voted second most beautiful island in the world. It was voted most beautiful island in North America. The Cabot Trail, the scenic route that winds along the coast of the northern portion of the island has been voted the most scenic drive on the continent.

So Cape Breton is obviously known for its beauty but it is also known for having North America’s only living Celtic culture. In the remote, rural areas of the island, some of the people still speak Gaelic, a language considered dead in most of the world and children are immersed into the world of Celtic music and dance at a very young age. Some of those “children” have grown up to become accomplished and widely known stars of Celtic music and there is even a Gaelic College located at St. Anne’s where students can learn the language and learn about the culture and visitors can take part in many events throughout the year. Some of the most popular events take place in Mid-October and are a part of the International Celtic Colours Festival which has events happening at dozens of other venues around the island. The festival takes place just as the fall foliage comes out in full bloom, making the famed Cabot Trail even more spectacular. The festival started back in 1997 and since I moved away to another province around that time, I never had the chance to experience it first hand. Over the years, the festival grew and attracted more sponsors, world-renowned Celtic artists and followers and is now known to be one of Canada’s top festivals. This year the celebration ran from October 11th to the 19th. Over the course of those nine days, visitors from all over the world took in a number of musical and cultural events including concerts, art displays, culinary events, farmers markets, guided hikes and story-telling sessions. Lucky for me, I happened to be in Cape Breton during that time and took in some of those events.

I love all types of music but the sound of the Scottish fiddle has always had a special place in my heart, particularly the style of Scottish fiddle that is unique to Cape Breton Island. I grew up to the sounds of the Rankin Family, Natalie MacMaster, The Barra MacNeils and Ashley MacIsaac, all well-accomplished Cape Breton musicians. Even while I was living away, I stayed on top of the new generation of musicians that were emerging on the local scene. So when a friend invited me to join her for a night of Celtic music, as part of the Celtic Colours Festival, at the Joan Harris Pavilion in Sydney, I jumped at the chance. I always wanted to attend the Festival and Lennie Gallant and Ashley MacIsaac, two of Atlantic Canada’s top acts, were headlining the show.

The show, titled “Taste of the Festival” featured artists in residence, Harald Haugaard from Denmark and homegrown talent, Kimberley Fraser. Nordic Fiddlers Bloc, a group of fiddlers from Norway, Sweden and Shetland played a beautiful set of traditional Nordic reels. Norwegian dancer, Hallgrim Hansegard wowed the crowd with his flawless dance routine and Lennie Gallant performed a mix of some of his most popular tunes, past and present. Ashley took the stage last and, as usual, left the crowd spellbound. His unique style of fiddle playing combined with the sounds of the Cape Breton piano, played by several notable Cape Breton pianists who were invited to the stage during his set, made for one heck of a closing performance! You can think what you want about him and some of his past actions but there is still no denying that Ashley always was and still is one of the best fiddle players to come out of Cape Breton…and maybe even Canada and all of North America.

Festival Club, a nightly event offering artists the opportunity to showcase their talents in an informal setting, was taking place at the Gaelic College in St. Anne’s right after the concert. Unfortunately, I had already had a few drinks and left my car at home, so making the hour drive to the college was out of the question. I wasn’t able to attend any more concerts during the festival due to other commitments but I did take in a few of the cultural events that were happening around the island as part of Celtic Colours.

One of the events I took part in was a historical hike in the town of Boisdale. I love learning about history and I love leisurely, morning walks in the country so this made for a perfect Sunday morning. And bonus: The fall foliage in that area of the island is usually very vibrant and this day was no exception. I met up with a small group of people at the fire hall in Boisdale and we made our way along the old railway track and up through the center of the village while our guides gave us the history of the area and its people. The walk lasted about two hours and ended at a small bungalow where a fire and some tea were waiting. Since I was in the area anyway, I made the short drive to Grand Narrows and poked around at the Farmer’s Market that was being held there that day and bought some homemade baked goods to bring home to have with my Thanksgiving Dinner that was taking place later that day.

So my first experience with Celtic Colours was enough to encourage me to make plans to take part in more of the festivities next year. And I won’t have any excuses. I know it is coming up so I can plan for it and I am living in Cape Breton full time now so I’ll have no reason to be out of town.

Taking part in Celtic Colours was a bit of an eye-opener for me. When the audience at the concert I attended was asked where they were from, it seemed that most of the people in attendance were from the United States, Europe and other parts of Canada. When I arrived for the hike in Boisdale and introduced myself to the other participants, I discovered that most of them were from away. Meeting all these people from far away places and hearing about their wonderful experiences traveling around Cape Breton gave me a sense of pride. But it also gave me a sense of disappointment. Hardly any of the people I met were from Cape Breton. I’m sure tons of Cape Bretoners took part in some of the events during the festival but, in my opinion, maybe not near as many as there should have been. The island hosts a world-renowned festival that sees guests from all over the world and many of my friends and acquaintances didn’t even really know what the festival was nor did they have any interest in finding out more…so hopefully next year, more Cape Bretoners will come out and support this homegrown cause and learn more about our unique culture and heritage.

Long Weekend Road Trip to Nova Scotia's South Shore

I was born and raised in Nova Scotia and, minus the 11 years I spent living in Newfoundland, I have spent most of my life in the province. My family home has always been on Cape Breton Island in the eastern portion of Nova Scotia and although I wandered far and wide over the years and have seen most of Canada and the United States, I am ashamed to admit that travel around my home province has been surprisingly limited. I know every main highway, secondary highway and back road in Cape Breton and I’m pretty sure I know the island better than the back of my own hand but when it comes to the rest of the province on the other side of the Canso Causeway, I can only say I’ve driven through on the Trans Canada Highway to travel somewhere else in Canada or the US, I’ve done some Christmas shopping in Halifax and Truro and I visited Peggy’s Cove and a few other notable landmarks and sites as a child. During the most recent Canadian long weekend, I had the opportunity to see a part of my province that I had never explored before; the south shore as far as Port Mouton near Liverpool.

My sister moved to the southern shore of Nova Scotia after finishing work for the season in northern Cape Breton. A few days before the long weekend approached, I booked a rental car and made the 7-hour drive to Port Mouton. It was a great opportunity to spend some time with my sister but also to travel to a part of the province I had always wanted to see, especially the town of Lunenburg, a renowned UNESCO world heritage site.

Long weekends don’t come often and rarely do I have the time lately to set out and partake in my favorite long weekend activity – a road trip. I set out that Saturday morning with intentions of making it to my sister’s place by nightfall. I would have made good time if I hadn’t stopped so much. Coffee, meals and bathroom breaks lingered a little longer than they should have because when it comes to new scenery and potential photo ops, out comes the camera and before I know it, a half hour or an hour passes. I ventured off onto a few off-ramps that looked promising only to get lost and have to try and make my way back to the highway and continue on with my journey. I still made it to Port Mouton in good time although it was too dark and I was too tired to go out and explore.

I know long weekends are a time to sleep in for many people but I rarely sleep in anytime. I am one of those strange and rare morning persons. When I sleep in past 7:30, I feel like life is passing me by and I am missing something. This is particular true when the opportunity arises to see or do something I don’t get the chance to do every day. Such an opportunity awaited me that first morning on the South Shore and my excitement would not allow me to sleep in past my normal wake-up time of 7:30. I would have been up earlier if it had not been for the long and exhausting drive the day before. I needed a bit of rest to keep me going for another long day of sightseeing. And what a beautiful day it was; normal temperatures for this time of year in Atlantic Canada hover around zero degrees Celsius and it is not rare for there to be a few inches of snow on the ground but this day was exceptional with a cloudless sky, no snow to be seem and temperatures hovering around the 10 degree mark. Perfect weather for hitting the beach! Well, a walk on the beach in Port Mouton before getting on the highway towards our first destination.

Our first stop was Mahone Bay about an hour from Liverpool. I had heard about the town numerous times but the only thing I really recalled about it was the famous picture of the three churches across the bay that seems to be a part of almost every Atlantic Canadian calendar and graces the front of numerous postcards. With its scenic waterfront, colorful storefronts and colonial buildings, it felt like I had stepped back in time. A walk down the main street of the town revealed many boutique shops with numerous hand-made and hard-to-find unique items in the storefront windows but there was no time for shopping that day. I made a mental note to possibly return closer to the holidays to do some Christmas shopping there.

Next, we made our way towards Lunenburg but were distracted by a street sign that led us in the opposite direction. Anyone who has or does live in Nova Scotia or who has ever indulged themselves in the province’s folklore, has heard about Oak Island Nova Scotia and its famous money pit which is reputed to be the site of buried pirate treasure. Many digs have been conducted around the site and although the elusive treasure has not been found as of yet, there are many indications and clues pointing to it being there in the booby-trapped pit that mysteriously floods every time someone gets so far down. So knowing all this history surrounding the area, when I spotted the sign that indicated Oak Island was to the left and Lunenburg was to the right, we both agreed that it was worth the bit of extra time it would take to drive the seven kilometers to Oak Island in hopes of seeing the money pit for ourselves. Unfortunately, the pit currently lies on private property and was gated off to outsiders. We could see the island but we couldn’t drive or walk to it. I don’t really blame the current owner of the land; I can only imagine how many times he or she must have had to endure enthusiastic treasure hunters coming from all over with their digging tools in hopes of finding buried pirate treasure. I would probably stick a sign and a gate up too though there is currently a rumor spreading around the area that another significant search will be conducted in the near future. I don’t know if it is going to be a government-funded dig or independent but there must be a reason why they would try again after so many years. The evidence pointing to there being something there is just too convincing to pass up.

Because Lunenburg was the most anticipated part of this trip for me, we saved the best for last. I had always wanted to go to Lunenburg. The pictures I had seen of brightly colored houses and fishing shacks and the history I had so often read about in locally written maritime history books intrigued me enough to promise myself that someday I would make the drive there and experience it for myself. The drive to the town was scenic with fields and countrified landscapes leading to the coast. We arrived in mid-afternoon and found a parking spot on the colorful waterfront overlooking a bay filled with little boats and a large schooner docked at the wharf. I heard that The Bluenose, the famed schooner that was built in Lunenburg and put the town on the map, might be in town during my visit but I didn’t see it in plain sight. There was a fairly large schooner docked quite a ways down the harbor in what looked like some sort of shipyard area but it was too far away to see it was, in fact, the famous schooner or not.

We walked the narrow streets admiring the old colonial houses painted in bright colors. Popular maritime lure states that many boat owners painted their homes the same color as their boat but I have yet to determine if that is fact or fiction. Either way, both houses and boats in Lunenburg add a colorful character to both the natural and man-made beauty of the quaint little town. In fact, the town reminded me a lot of St. John’s, Newfoundland. Brightly colored buildings lining every street, painted murals of the seafaring history of yesteryear and steep streets leading up the next layer of shops and restaurants just like the “bowl” effect that the downtown area of St. John’s is famous for. We spent a few hours walking around the town, taking pictures, window shopping and admiring the beautiful artifacts and crafts that were for sale and eating some of the best carrot cake I had every had at one of the waterfront cafes. I could live in a town like Lunenburg. A small town with all the amenities of a larger city. It seemed to be bustling when we were there in the afternoon so I can only imagine what it must be like into the evening with many pubs, restaurants, cafes and bars lining every street.

Darkness comes early this time of year and we wanted to be back on the road before dark to make it back to Liverpool to take some sunset pictures and grab something to eat. There was a music festival going on in the area so many venues were jammed packed or had long lineups so we settled on one that didn’t look to be too crowded but was reputed to be one of the best places in the area to eat. Lane's Privateer Inn couldn’t have been a better place for us that night. We were looking for good food, good coffee (good wine for my sister who was not driving), a relaxing atmosphere and friendly service and this place exceeded our expectations. The food was delicious and the portions were just right and, as is often not the case in many places these days, we got exceptional and personalized service from the staff who were happy to make our visit an enjoyable one. It was the perfect end to a great long weekend with my sister but the weekend wasn’t quite done for me at that point; I still had that long drive back to The Cape early the next morning. Don’t get me wrong, I love nothing more than getting behind the wheel and heading out on the highway for a long drive except this one actually had a destination; back home to the start of a new work week…but at least it wasn’t starting on a Monday!