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Published: September 29th 2015
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We woke up in Halifax this morning to find that before she left, Chantelle, our Couchsurfing host, had left us some of her mom's homemade Lassies (soft molasses cookies) on the table. Thanks, Chantelle!
We drove about 40 minutes to Peggy's Cove, a rustic, undeveloped fishing village with a famous lighthouse which marks its location. Once a working post office, Peggy's Point remains one of the most photographed lighthouses in Canada. Some of the villagers there still fish for lobster and their colourful boats sit prettily in the small inlet, casting multi-hued reflections. Lobster traps sit in piles on the docks and wooden saltbox houses are dotted throughout the village. There are small, locally owned gift shops, galleries, restaurants and tea houses.
A popular legend claims that the village's name came from the young sole survivor of a shipwreck near the cove who married a resident in 1800 and became known as "Peggy of the Cove". The village eventually came to be named Peggy's Cove, after her.
The rugged beauty of the rock formations surrounding Peggy's Point Lighthouse make it a sight to behold. The giant rocks worn smooth by the sea invite exploration. We took it all
in. Luckily we got there early in the day when it was fairly quiet, but before long, people were crawling like ants in every crevice and corner. I can't imagine what it must be like at the height of summer. Every year, despite signs warning of the dangers of venturing onto the slippery rocks close to shore, people die doing just that and get dragged out to sea by the dangerous waves. We saw it almost happen to someone while we were there. As Tim often says, "You can't fix stupid".
Also here is the "Fishermen's Monument", a large mural sculpted out of a 100 foot granite face of rock below the artist's home. It depicts thirty-two fishermen and their wives and children.
From there, we drove down the road to the memorial of Swiss Air Flight 111 which crashed in 1998, six nautical miles off Peggy's Cove, killing all 226 passengers and crew. The community was deeply affected and received admiration and recognition for its support, rescue and salvage operations.
While in Nova Scotia, we came across many cemeteries. I love visiting old cemeteries and Nova Scotia's are some of the prettiest I've seen. Many are
filled with gravestones worn by time so that sadly, they are now unreadable. Typically set on serene hillsides dappled by leafy trees, I would love such a beautiful place to be my last spot to call home.
We drove by a beautiful town called Mahone Bay on the way to Lunenburg. As it came into view across a harbour, we could see three churches lining the shore, nestled in the trees, their spires reaching towards the sky. Apparently, this is an iconic image of Nova Scotia, frequently photographed and featured on postcards and calendars. How I wish we could have spent some time there.
Soon we were in Lunenburg. Renowned for being the birthplace of the Bluenose, a famous fishing and racing schooner, Lunenburg is picturesque with colourfully painted historic homes, 70% of them original buildings from the 18th and 19th centuries.
Shops line the streets which parallel the harbour and the harbour is filled with boats. Unfortunately, the famous Bluenose II was out to sea that day. We were disappointed!
We left Lunenburg and drove to the Annapolis Valley, the beautiful and best agricultural land along the Bay of Fundy and Northumberland Strait. The tremendously
high tides of the Bay of Fundy created large areas of marshland, which, by means of dykes begun in Acadian times, have been converted into valuable agricultural lands. Traditionally the valley was known for its apple orchards but now many different crops are grown.
At the last minute, I had arranged two nights of Couchsurfing near Annapolis Royal, a town tucked into the valley. The area was so lovely with lofty trees, rolling hills and a river running through it. Following our host's directions, we started to drive off the grid, onto narrower and narrower backwoods gravel roads. The trees closing in on the road were drawing us in more and more. Just when we thought we might be lost and were worried we'd ended up in a "Deliverance" scenario, we came into an opening where there was a dilapidated, rustic house. We located our host (I'll call him Larry) who was chopping wood. He was in his 60s, slim, and sporting a grey ponytail. He brushed off his hands and led us into the house which was rundown, not very clean, and constructed by him and his friends with salvaged parts from other old houses. There was clutter
everywhere including little groupings of dusty rocks and papers. He made us a cup of tea and we sat at his table and talked about his job teaching grade 2 and 3 in a school of 68 students from K to grade 8. We talked about politics, technology in the classroom and his spirituality. He was of German descent but had adopted the spiritual philosophy of the First Nations people. He participated in sweat lodges and said that before you take, you must first give. He said that when he went to pick blueberries, he would lay a gift of tobacco at the foot of the bush and ask it if it was ok to pick them. Sometimes the bush said yes, sometimes it said no. As we talked, the room fell darker but he made no attempt to turn on a light.
As it was hard to keep Larry in conversation, we retired to our room which was, thankfully, clean. The bathroom had a smelly, not too clean, composting toilet which we reluctantly used and the items there were also covered in dust.
We slept a bit fitfully and when I woke up, Tim was already packing
up, even though we were supposed to stay another night. "You don't want to stay, do you?, he asked. I shook my head no. We were very appreciative that Larry had shared his home with us and the joy of Couchsurfing is meeting different people with different lifestyles but we felt more comfortable moving on. Larry had told us he'd be sleeping in and wouldn't see us till the evening so I wrote a nice note thanking him for his hospitality and explaining that we'd decided to drive further that day, which actually turned out much better in the end. Tim tiptoed outside with our bags, trying not to wake him, but when he bent over with the car key in his pocket, he set the alarm off. Frantically, he turned it off and we jumped in the car and left, trying not to speed down the gravel road. We had a little chuckle as we left. Life gives you some interesting experiences if you're willing to try new things.
(Scroll to bottom of page for more photos.)
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Roger
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Peggy's Cove & Tim
Jane visited Peggy's Cove in the 80's and to this day still raves of it's beauty. it is on the bucket list. I'm sure Tim will need some sort of counselling after that Couchsurf. Da da ding da da din danda ding ding ding......