Annpolis Royal to Halifax, NS

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On the road at 7am after finally getting to sleep around 2am and then wakened by the crows and gulls at 5:30. That is it, no more weekend camping.

The Tim's at Middleton beckoned me for breakfast, so I gave in.
"You'll not be findin' any fancy coffee shops in this valley. Tim's is the best around here. You'll always see the bikes there too." And that was how the motorcycling travel agent on the parking lot of Tim's in Digby filled me in on where to go for coffee.

At the counter ahead of me was a representative of a similar group that created by little hell-in-a-tent last night. A guy and a girl had been sent for coffee for a group who were too hung over to get up. I knew about this because they were talking about it very loud with a running dialogue of who drank what. I asked them if they were the nominated coffee slaves for the morning.

"Hell no," the girl said. I'm pregnant so I feel great, eh. He (the guy with her who was barely there) just wants coffee so bad he came along. Sorry for taking so long here, but I got a mess of coffee to get."

"Oh that's OK, I'm in no rush," I said, and I told the truth there. On the road so early, I really had no timeline I had to ride to at all.

I looked at them and, as a result of last night's events, was placing them in the 'you piss me off catagory' when the girl blindsided me.

"Here," she said to the Tim's person serving the coffee, "this is for a coffee for this guy for making him wait."

I stalled, as it took me a second to take in what she had done. "Thank you very much. That was nice of you."

'Oh, that's OK. We're making you wait too long."

I thought, I guess you never know what is all inside anyone until they get a chance to show it. Nonetheless, her personal qualities do not endear to me the inconsiderate, immature, loud jerks next to me last night. I will never understand how people like that can continue to get by in this world. Then again, the fact they are there maybe an indication of some of the problems we have.

Outside there was a scruffy looking guy who had parked his motorcycle and walked over to look at mine. As I approached he commented on how far from home I was. He too was riding one of those old Honda Goldwins from the 70s, just like John in Augusta, Maine.

This fellow's name was Jim. He was onin his mid-forties, but he was retired from the Canadian military (Navy) and he "lives in the woods, rides motorcycles and rescues Rotweillers." Jim was a nice enough guy, but I'll bet he spends a lot of time to himself. I didn't entertain the Rottweiller discussion as that is one breed of dog that truly scares me. He was the fourth person I had met since arriving in Nova Scotia who was involved with the military. Interesting.

I continued up the valley through Kingston, Berwick, Waterville, New Minas and on to Wolfville. I passed group after group of motorcyclists going the other way. I found out later on they were doing a Poker Run as part of the Annapolis Valley Days. Thank goodness I was going to be in Halifax and not in the valley.

At Wolfville there actually was a great coffee place located in an old building that was once a library, so I stopped again.

The country I've been riding through today is very agrarian, with cattle, vegetable crops and some grain. In the towns some of the homes a nicely refurbished, but in the country, the homes of the people who work there are newer and are no different from what you would find on the prairies in the country. Listening to the conversations of the locals in the coffee shops and the grocery stores, I also hear them talking about the same things as you would hear in those same places on the prairies, albeit with a different dialect.

There is an element in this area that doesn't exist much in the country on the prairies and that is the retired folk. I presume the beautiful countryside and the relatively short winter attracts the old timers. I'm not sure whether the places here are less expensive, but if they are now they won't be for long.

I visited Grande Pre and learned about Evangeline. That bit of history involving the British has a similar flavour to the Scottish Clearances. Stupid.

I then turned more eastward to head over the hills to Halifax. For my money, the countryside starting at about Wolfville and extending to the range of rocky holls you need to climb over to get to Halifax, is the nicest part of this side of Nova Scotia north of Digby. I liked any given 3 km of the Annapolis valley, but to me it is a lot of the same thing, as are a lot of the prairies only on a larger scale and with many fewer trees.

I wanted an hotel in Halifax that was downtown so I could be off the bike for a couple of days. I booked in for two nights at the Halliburton House Hotel and stayed for four. What a great hotel - not a grand hotel, but cleverly presented to make the clients feel grand.

The Halifax Jazz Festival was on, so I went to listen to Mike Cowie's Trumpets. The show was free. The group was comprised of three trumpets and a rythm section of piano, base, and drums. They were very good. I especially liked their ballads which included one of my favourites, 'My Funny Valentine.'

As I was off the bike for two days, I wanted to see what the beer was like in the Scottish town. The desk clerk at the hotel recommended The Henry House just down the street. It was a winner. An olde world pub in an old stone building that, of course, belonged to the Henrys at one time. I discovered a locally brewed real bitter from Granite Brewery. My goodness, I was transported back to England with my first sip. They got the taste and texture spot on. Yes folks, beer does have texture.

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